Chapter 41 Wyatt & Wade #2
Her hands moving with tender care over my body.
My hands, pushing through her ginger hair.
Our bodies, naked, pressed together. Not mating. Not marking. Just holding onto one another.
Each time I dreamed of her, I woke up poisoned by greater longing.
I paused my scrubbing, rocking back on my heels to survey how much I’d accomplished.
I wiped the back of my hand across my slick forehead.
My mustache was damp with sweat too, my shirt clinging to my back.
The barn was cleaner than it had been in years, but it still wasn't enough.
Nothing would ever be enough when it came to Nelly.
My Alpha side was in constant turmoil around her.
Protective instincts warred with respect for her independence.
Possessive urges fought against the knowledge that she wasn't mine to possess. And beneath all the inexplicable, unstoppable Alpha shit was a simpler, human truth: Nelly Shaw made me feel whole when I hadn’t even known I was broken.
And now she might leave.
The pain of imagining her gone was a crushing pressure in my chest my lungs couldn’t expand against and a hollowness in my gut no amount of food could fill.
I attacked the floor again, my movements growing desperate. As if I could scrub away the reality of her eventual departure. As if I could clean this barn so thoroughly, make it so perfect for her dancing, that she'd choose to stay.
Wade returned, gallon of enzyme cleaner in one hand, sponges in the other.
Our eyes met.
He and I never talked openly about what Nelly meant to both of us. We didn’t need to. I could see the same storm brewing in my twin’s eyes. The same fear. The same hope. The same horrible hurt.
Wade nodded at me, then moved back to where he’d been cleaning before going to get extra supplies. I went back to work as well, scrubbing until my hands were raw, until blisters formed, until blisters ruptured, until the sting of the pain was so great my eyes watered against it.
"Please stay," I whispered quietly, watching as my blood swirled with soapy water on the floor. "Please choose us."
Choose me.
Wade.
I braced my shoulder against the rusted frame of the old tractor, my boots digging into the dirt floor as I strained to push the hulking mass deeper into the shadowy corner of the barn. Sweat trickled down my spine despite the cool night air seeping into the barn.
The machine groaned in protest, its weight fighting my efforts, but I needed it gone.
I needed to clear every possible inch of space for Nelly's dancing.
I glanced across the barn at Wyatt, who was attacking the floor with brutal focus, and I pushed harder, muscles burning with the effort.
Pain was good. Pain was simple. Unlike the complicated ache that had taken up residence in my chest since Nelly Shaw arrived in Wyoming.
Before Eros came into our lives, my days had followed a comfortable rhythm.
Though I woke before dawn, I never went straight to work.
I’d wait a while before going outside, giving Wyatt his space in the stables—something we all did, because the man was an ogre first thing in the morning.
I’d dress, then have a leisurely cup of coffee in the kitchen, my sips usually serenaded by the sounds of Cooper clanging pots and humming as he cooked.
After my daily dose of caffeine, I headed out to check on pregnant heifers and bottle feed a few calves.
If I had extra time, I’d take Duck out for a morning ride to, as ridiculous as it sounded, check on the actual ducks.
Then I was back home for breakfast with my pack brothers.
Often, Wyatt would still be mucking out the stables, something that drove Cooper nuts.
Sometimes, he’d announce our breakfast would be later than usual, trying to get Wyatt on board. It never worked.
But even the sporadic fluctuation of breakfast was routine and familiar.
Like checking the fence line, helping the vet when vaccine time came around, and spending my nights pouring over animal husbandry books by lamp light.
Before I knew how much I was missing, I'd been content with solitude, more comfortable with animals than people, and happy to let Wyatt carry the bulk of ranch responsibilities on his shoulders. A predictable world was safe, made it easier to stay sane against the first brushes of ferality.
But nothing made sense anymore.
She’d tilted my entire existence sideways.
I heaved as hard as I could, and the tractor finally gave way, sliding back several inches.
I repositioned myself, pressing my entire body against the metal behemoth.
My muscles strained against my skin, veins standing out on my forearms as I pushed with renewed determination.
Each inch gained was another inch for her to move, to dance, to stay.
My mind drifted to Dolly’s hard birth. Nelly was part of the reason the mother and her calf were doing well now.
She’d followed my instructions without hesitation, taking to the task like she’d done it a million times before.
I’d been fucking amazed by her, though I’d not had the chance to tell her at the time.
The vet had come, and I’d run out to meet him.
By the time he and I started walking back to the birthing paddock, Nelly was disappearing into the stables with Boone.
Not long after, they’d ridden off in the direction of the lake.
The lake with my ducks. The ones I’d wanted to show her at some point.
As I’d watched them leave together, jealousy burned through me.
I’d wanted my body to be the one behind hers in the saddle.
The next morning, her hair damp from the shower and curling around her flushed face, she’d looked at me across the kitchen table and said, “Thank you for letting me help. That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever been a part of.”
In my head, I’d told her she was the amazing thing.
In my head, I told her the calf’s birth proved she belonged at Sagebrush.
In my head, I told her I was falling in love with her.
Out loud, I said, “You’re welcome.”
The tractor moved another few inches. My breath came in ragged gasps, but I kept pushing.
I kept trying. I’d get the damn tractor where I wanted it to be or die trying.
Hell, maybe I was already dead. One final, growling heave forced the tractor the last foot.
I stood up, back aching and arms screaming.
I turned, sitting down on one of the long-gone-flat tractor wheels.
Wade had stopped scrubbing. He was standing now, staring down at his hands.
Even from where I sat, a good hundred feet away, I could see the blood and blisters.
We were both torturing ourselves, trying to drive back the pain and fear of losing our Omega.
Our Nelly.
The twins.
The moon was high in the sky by the time the brothers called it quits.
The glass panes—those that were still unbroken after the many years of neglect—were freshly cleaned, allowing silverly light to enter the barn unfettered by dirt and debris. They’d done their best to polish the floors to a dull shine, but that was an impossible task.
Their bodies ached with exhaustion, muscles protesting after hours of physical labor.
In the past, pushing themselves to the point of breaking was always the answer.
It got them through their lowest lows. But now, they felt unchanged.
The anxiety and worry breathed beneath their skin stronger now, as if they’d fed the monsters instead of slaying them.
Wyatt and Wade stood side by side, their eyes taking in all that they’d accomplished but also absorbing all that they hadn’t.
The barn was better, certainly. But as their eyes met in the dim light, both brothers knew they were thinking, once again, the same thing: It’s not enough.
Not for Nelly. Not for what she deserves.
"She needs a real floor," Wade said quietly, breaking the silence that had stretched between them for hours.
His gaze dropped to the rough-hewn planks beneath their boots.
He stamped down his foot, feeling frustrated.
Though clean now, the wood remained uneven, splintered in places, unsuitable for anything more than the machinations of a farm.
How had she managed to dance out here? How had she not hurt herself?
“We need to get somebody who knows what a real dance studio needs. Make this place over properly.”
Wyatt’s mind already raced ahead. “The barn’s not going to work in the long run. Let’s talk to the contractor tomorrow. They’re nearly done and hitting the slow season. I’m sure they won’t mind more work.”
“Build it close to the new house,” Wade nodded, following his twin’s train of thought. “She can walk over any time.”
“Maybe design it with a sitting area, give her a real getaway,” Wyatt added.
Wade laughed, a sound full of brittle hope. “That way she’s got an escape from our dumb asses.”
“What if she leaves?” Wyatt asked, interrupting their daydreaming.
“What if she stays?” Wade countered, trying to keep the dream alive.
“What if she stays…” Wyatt repeated, his voice fading with each syllable because hoping hurt too damn much.
The twins moved toward the barn door at the same time, but Wade fell back a step so they could exit.
They couldn’t fit side-by-side. Outside, countless stars spread across the black canvas of sky above.
The universe was infinite, but all the twins cared about was their small plot of land in Wyoming.
“Can’t believe she’s been using Gramp’s radio.” This from Wyatt.
“Where the hell do you think she found it? We looked for years.” Wade smiled at the fact Nelly brought Grampa Joe’s radio back into their lives.
“Dunno. But I’m glad she’s using it.”
“Me too.”
They walked slowly back to the main house, the crunching of the ground beneath their boots adding to the buzz of night life. The brothers’ thoughts tangled and knotted further with every step.
Was building a dance studio for a woman who might leave any day stupid?
If they built it, would the damn thing just end up a sore reminder of what could have been?
That would be Ghost too, wouldn’t it? If Nelly left, the mare would be a flash of white across the pasture, always making them remember.
What else could they do to convince her to stay?
How would they recover if she left?
The twins split ways after entering the too-small ranch house. Though it was only a few hours until daybreak now, they collapsed into their own beds, asleep before their heads nestled into downy pillows.
The brothers barely slept two hours before they were awoken again—one by Boone, the other by Levi—telling them to come to the kitchen to talk about Nelly.
Sleepy, heads hurting, and bodies sore from labor, the brothers both zombie-walked to the kitchen.
They each took an offered coffee mug from Cooper, who teased them to ‘wake up, buttercups, we’re taking Nelly into town today’.
Into town...
The twins exchanged groggy glances. At the same time, something sparked in their eyes.
They’d have to delay talking to the contractor, but the idea of going into town with Nelly filled them with possibilities.
They could show her the bakery where Cooper got their favorite bear claws.
They could take her to the handful of fashion boutiques to pick out clothing.
They could even eat lunch at Shorty’s, which had a very different vibe and clientele during the day.
Maybe she’d love the little town. Maybe it would be another selling point.
Both Wyatt and Wade tried to ignore the possibility that she’d refuse to go.