Chapter 22 Twenty-One #2
Fine. I’ll watch without you. I have that app too, you know. *tongue sticking out emoji*
“What time are we meeting for dresses tomorrow?” I asked, setting my phone down. But Kyla and Abi answered with silence, both of them boring down on me. The only sound was Poppy’s coos. I looked back and forth at both of them until I finally gave in. “What!”
“You like my brother,” Abi stated blankly.
“We’re friends.” I reiterated, drawing out the word as long as I could.
My phone pinged again, and both Abi and I looked down at the screen.
Wyatt
Oh, I have your schedule confirmed—all settled there. And I forgot—what episode are we on?
I didn’t pick up the phone to answer; I just let the banner go black with the rest of the screen before I made eye contact with Abi. Her eyebrows raised.
“We’re friends,” I said again.
“You’ve said that four times now.” Kyla gave me a side glance as she moved Poppy to her shoulder.
“I’m trying to get it through your head.”
“Just being frank here.” Abi leaned back in her chair. “You’re not fooling me.”
“Me either,” Kyla added, her voice raised to appease Poppy, who buried her face in her mom’s shoulder, her fist working to get to her eyes.
I sat back and watched as Rhett came out to take his daughter, giving Kyla a kiss on the temple before humming into his daughter’s ear.
Shortly after Rhett disappeared into the house, Kyla said goodnight to us and followed him.
Abi offered to walk back with me to the main house and stables, and on the way, her phone rang, and by the blush on her cheeks, a dead giveaway that it was Cash on the other side.
I could see the light in both of their eyes, and even though I kept telling myself that Wyatt was just a friend, I was having a hard time fooling myself, too.
Wyatt opened the bunkhouse door, actually wearing a shirt this time, and his smile spread across his face.
I made it to my truck, took one look at the bunkhouse, and without even thinking twice, I bypassed my truck and the next thing I knew I was knocking on the door.
He had shown up to my house every night for the last few months, always with food and drink, and here I was…
empty-handed. I raised my palms in the air.
“Pretend I’m holding a pineapple pizza and a six pack.” I took a step into the threshold. “We’re on season two, episode thirteen, by the way.”
“Ah, right.” Wyatt shut the door, following me into the living room.
I had been in his place above the bunkhouse once, and even then, I mainly stayed in the kitchen, but I took in my surroundings.
It was probably no more than five hundred square feet, the living room and kitchen sharing a space, the queen-sized bed just a few steps to my left.
It was nothing special, nothing to fawn over.
No part of it screamed Wyatt Hartwell. I twisted my lips and plopped on the couch in front of a small flatscreen.
“This is where you bring girls?” I asked, instantly regretting it.
“I haven’t brought a girl here—or been to a girls' place”—he plopped down next to me—“in months.” He tossed me the remote. “Season two, episode thirteen. How was girls’ night?”
“Good,” I replied, cueing up the episode. “I mentioned the book club.”
“Yeah?” He raised his brows. “What did they say?”
“That we should join one that meets at the local bookstore. Abi said they read mainly spicy books.” I gave him a sideways glance.
His eyebrows raised even higher. “Oh…really? If you have TikTok, you can get some great recommendations from there.”
“No. No TikTok. And I won’t be joining the Smutty Grannies.”
“The Smutty Grannies? Oh, that's fantastic, and I really think you should join.”
“I won’t be doing that.”
“Come on, you can’t just live off of rodeos and Once Upon a Time your entire life. Join the book club.”
“There’s more in my future than a TV show and rodeos, you know. I’ll have to retire sometime.”
“Tell me.”
I met his gaze. “Tell you…what?”
“Your future. What does your future hold after you’re retired, after we’re done watching this TV show?” He shifted himself on the couch so one leg rested between us, his knee close to mine, his arm draped on the back of the couch.
My future. I could count on one hand those who asked me what I wanted to do with my future.
My dad, my first boyfriend Orion, Cash, and now Wyatt.
I licked my lips…did I want to tell him?
Telling him about my mom was easier than this.
This dream was mine and mine alone, but the look on his face, the eagerness he was showing to hear everything… I trusted him to hold it close, too.
“A horse sanctuary,” I answered, my voice soft.
His eyes twitched, his lips curving up into a smile.
“I want to have a place where retired racehorses can go to live their last years. I want to take care of sick or older horses that were going to be sent to slaughter. I want to find companions for blind horses, and I want horses to feel safe and comfortable, taken care of. I doubt it will ever happen, but” —I pulled my legs up to my chest—“that’s my future. ”
Wyatt’s smile stayed soft, his eyes flitting from my own, dancing as he searched my face. “What would you call it?” He finally asked.
“I…” I stumbled. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it, to be honest. I have no idea where I’d put it.
I’d need a lot of land and a building and a barn and…
well…it’s going to be a long time until I can make that happen.
I’m only twenty-two, almost twenty-three—” I stopped, my jaw dropping as I remembered the small tidbit that Abi shared earlier.
“You had a birthday, and you didn’t tell me? ”
Wyatt shrugged, pushing himself off the back of the couch with his elbow. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Not a big deal…you turned thirty. That’s a big one.”
“Well then, good thing I spent it exactly how I wanted to, huh?” He smiled at me. “This sanctuary, let’s call it ‘Once Upon a Rescue’—”
“Yeah, no. That’s not what I’m calling it.”
“It’ll happen.”
I tilted my head, my hair flopping down over my shoulder. I noticed his gaze trail down my shoulders, lingering there a little longer before his eyes snapped back up to me.
“Until then,”—he shifted again—“you went up the standings. You’re second.”
“Second? Last I saw, I was third!”
“Rising up. And it’s only May,” he whispered, his voice husky as he leaned forward.
My entire body screamed to jump into his arms, pull him close to me, and tell him that I wouldn’t be second if it weren’t for the support that he gave me.
All the double-checking my schedules, all the times he saddled and fed my horses as I checked in.
Maybe my mom was right, that I couldn’t do this on my own, but he made me feel like I could—and damn, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.
But instead of tackling him, I bit my lip and sighed, saying instead, “I should probably tell my dad. He’ll be excited.”
Shifting on my side, I pulled my phone from my pocket, pulling up the group chat.
Me
Hey! Check out the standings. Second.
The message turned to read, but a few moments passed before the dots appeared, followed by a screenshot of my smiling face in the number two slot on the PRCA Website.
Dad
You were third this morning! Looks like I need to buy those NFR tickets now.
Your mom says congrats.
The excitement from the news drained as it hit that mom didn’t even take the time to message me back herself. I read the message a few times and then showed the phone to Wyatt. He read the texts and met my gaze, his smile never faltering.
“I guess now’s not the best time to tell you I can’t go with you in a few weeks?”
“Really?” I scrunched my nose, lowering my phone down to the couch, my shoulders slumping. “The only reason I'll accept is if you’re announcing at a rodeo.”
He drew in a sharp breath with his teeth, “No. If only. I need to help Cash with wedding stuff.”
I relaxed. “Oh, okay. I’ll accept that, too. I’ll hate not having you there, believe it or not…I really enjoy you there.”
“I figured, but hey,”—he sat back—“I made sure your mom won’t be at any of the rodeos. Well…I made sure Miss Rodeo Montana wasn’t going to be there. I figured if she was there, your mom was there. I can’t have her killing your high.”
That time, I did tackle him, wrapping my arms around his neck as we both fell backwards on the couch.