Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SADIE
“I still can’t believe Heath is actually letting him stay.”
Lydia has been on a rant since we learned Heath was allowing Lane to keep his job and stay here. I won’t lie, a small part of me is disappointed that he isn’t leaving. It would’ve made things a lot less awkward if I didn’t have to worry about our paths crossing.
I guess that’s why Heath made the rule in the first place—to avoid the inevitable uncomfortable fallout.
“It makes sense,” I say, trying to convince myself as much as her. “Lane was here long before I showed up. He didn’t break any rules—technically. He told Heath the night we kissed. Heath’s known all along. It wouldn’t be fair for him to lose everything he’s worked for after one slip up.”
Lydia blinks like I’ve lost my mind. “Are you kidding? I had front-row seats to that shit show. It was way more than a slip.” She places her hand over mine on the counter of the bar and lowers her voice. “Sadie…he was going to hurt you if Wes hadn’t stepped in.”
I shoot her a look, but I know she’s right. That night could’ve gone so much worse.
“We don’t know that,” I say softly. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s in the past and I’ve decided to move forward. Summer is almost over and I refuse to keep dwelling on one bad night.”
The lodge door swings open, and my skin tightens. Without looking, I know it’s Lane.
I knew it was a risk, coming here for lunch with Lyd. She warned me Lane still eats here every day. It was his routine, even before he and I were anything. It’s been almost two weeks since things ended, but seeing him still feels like swallowing glass.
His steps slow as he spots the only empty seat—right next to me.
The urge to get up and run claws at me, but I stay, frozen. We both live and work at the same place. It’s a miracle we haven’t crossed paths sooner.
He sits, nodding at Lydia and me. “Hey. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Hi, umm…I thought we could both benefit from…some space,” I admit, voice tight.
He nods once. His nose still has a nasty brownish-yellow bruise, but the swelling has gone down for the most part.
Lydia snatches my half-eaten plate away and takes it back to the kitchen. She’s clearly still upset, but I wish she would trust my judgment. I’m ready to move past everything. Why can’t she respect that?
“And I guess I’m done now.” I press my lips into a thin line as I slip off the barstool. “Take care of yourself, Lane.”
Before I can turn, his hand closes gently around my wrist. There’s no force in it, no threat, but my pulse spikes anyway. I suck in a sharp breath and he releases me immediately, but the echo of his touch lingers on my skin.
“Sorry. I just—was hoping we could talk.”
My thumb rubs the spot where he held me and I glance over to the swinging door leading into the kitchen. I swallow, knowing he wouldn’t have asked if Lydia was still out here.
“There’s nothing left to say, Lane.”
He opens his mouth to reply but snaps it shut at the same time I feel a presence behind me.
“Ready to go?”
The familiar scent of cedar and rain covers me like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. I look over my shoulder to find Wesley standing behind me, smirking.
We didn’t have plans, but the look he gives me says go with it. My pulse stutters, but I play along.
“Mhm, yes. I was just coming to meet you.” The lie rolls off my tongue easier than I thought it would. “I’ll see you around, Lane.”
Wesley guides me out of the lodge, holding open the door for me.
“Sooo, where are we going?” I fall into step beside him, curiosity blooming as we walk toward his truck.
He raises an eyebrow. “Nowhere in particular. I saw you standing there alone with him and you looked…uncomfortable. Figured I’d give you an excuse to leave.”
“Well, now I’m curious about our pretend plans.” I grin up at him. “Where are you taking me?”
“I guess that’s a surprise.” He swings open the passenger door with a flourish. “Hop in, Princess.”
Wesley brings me to the wildflowers again—the same spot as last time. But I don’t mind. This place truly is magical.
The wildflowers sway in the breeze, the petals brushing each other in an endless, quiet rhythm. A little reminder of how easily things shift—how one moment with someone can change everything you thought you knew.
We sit in the cab talking for hours. About upcoming events on the ranch, and me wanting to ask Heath about inviting my friends out to visit.
He asks how my solo training with Iris is going—I love that dog. I ask how he and Outlaw are getting along—they’re not.
It says a lot about him, how patient he is with that horse. How even though he’s made almost no progress, he isn’t giving up on him. Like he can see the potential beneath the surface and knows he needs a little more time.
The sun is almost set when we head back to the main house. Wesley has the windows rolled down and the late-summer air rushes in, warm against my cheeks. I lean my head against the seat, watching the pastures roll by in a blur of gold and green.
Somewhere in the distance, a hawk drifts over the tree line, and for a moment, I almost forget about Lane. About everything.
When we drive past the barn, Iris comes bounding across the pasture, barking and chasing after the truck.
“I thought you said training was going well?” he asks, watching my wild puppy sprint after us in the rearview mirror.
“It is.” I laugh. “She just has a little thing with chasing cars.”
“We’ll work on that tomorrow.” He looks at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Something warm flickers in my chest before I can stop it, but it’s gone just as quickly when I force my gaze back to the road ahead.
Gravel crunches beneath the tires as we pull in, and my heart rate spikes.
Lane’s truck. Parked right beside Emmett’s. My once-happy memories in that truck are now tainted by that night. His broken promises.
My hand fumbles for the door handle, then freezes. I know if I ask Wesley to turn around, he would without hesitation. But what would that solve? Hard things don’t get easier the longer you avoid them.
It’s difficult to see him—Lane. The person I almost gave a piece of myself to. The person I stupidly thought I was falling in love with. The person who would’ve hurt me if the man currently sitting next to me didn’t stop him.
I glance at Wesley. The muscles in his jaw tick as he stares at the same truck.
“Did Heath invite him to dinner?” I ask, my voice low.
“He never said anything to me.” He exhales slowly. “But he also didn’t tell me Lane was coming to dinner with you last time, either.”
“Right.” I nod slowly.
The same dinner where Wesley said the four words that have played on a loop in my brain every day since.
It should’ve been me.
I wish everything wasn’t so complicated. I wish Wesley had asked me to dance that night. I wish he had never pushed me away and built this wall between us.
I wish I had never kissed Lane.
Being with Lane meant sealing the door on me and Wesley forever. How could I ever be more with him after everything that happened?
Then Lane would be right. Wesley would get his turn—and I would be a slut.
I fucked everything up trying to move on from something that never really existed. What did I think would happen?
Summer is almost over, and then I’m going back to California.
Wesley’s place is here—working on his family’s ranch.
I force a smile, hoping he can’t see the dread hidden beneath. “Well, sitting in the truck won’t change anything. Plus, you know how Heath feels about tardiness.”
Before I can talk myself out of it, I swing open the door and slip out of the truck.
Wesley catches up to me before I reach the first porch step, putting himself between me and the front door.
“Wesley, what are you—”
“You have a choice. You don’t have to do this.”
“It’s fine—”
“No, it’s not. You don’t have to sit at the table with him and pretend none of it happened.”
“It’s not a big deal. I can handle one dinner.”
I try to push past but he blocks me again, closing the space between us. The scent of cedar and rain floods my senses. My heart pounds in my chest so hard I feel it in my ears.
“Just because you can endure it, doesn’t mean you have to,” he murmurs, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
His touch is feather light and sends a tingle through me. I feel myself slipping right back into the same pattern we were in before. I pull away, taking a shaky breath, and turn to look out over the pastures.
I can’t keep falling for this. Constantly being pulled in, only for him to push me away again.
I want a relationship. A connection. I want to be special to someone.
It didn’t work with Lane, and I accept that. He still has parts of him that aren’t fully healed, and that’s okay.
Wesley is not going to be that guy for me. He’s made that perfectly clear. He may wish things had gone differently, but no matter what, I know it always would’ve led us to exactly where we are right now.
We’re better off just trying to be friends.
“Wesley.”
His name is a plea on my lips. A complete sentence. An answer to the questions neither of us are asking out loud.
I look over my shoulder and my eyes meet his. Something flickers in his expression, and for a heartbeat, I almost wish he wouldn’t move—that he would throw me over his shoulder to run and hide away in the wildflowers.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he presses his lips into a thin line and nods, stepping aside and opening the door for me.
Heath did, in fact, invite Lane to eat with us—for reasons we will never know.
But thankfully, everyone is on their best behavior. I keep my head down and stare at my plate, pretending the roasted chicken and veggies are more fascinating than the tension that’s humming across the table like a brewing storm.
Heath carries most of the conversation and either he doesn’t pick up on the weird energy looming or he is really good at pretending.