Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
SADIE
The sheets are still warm, tangled around our legs, the room steeped in that heavy silence that follows when the world feels miles away. It’s the third night in a row I’ve snuck into Wesley’s room after everyone has gone to bed.
Every night, I have full intentions of slipping back into my room after—but I’m weak, and he makes it impossible to want to leave his bed.
His arm is draped over me, thumb tracing slow, absent circles along the curve of my back. Every touch is unhurried, like we have all the time in the world and he’s memorizing me in pieces.
“I want to tell Lydia,” I murmur, the words slipping out before I can swallow them back. “About…this. About us.”
His thumb pauses against my skin and he slowly exhales through his nose before pressing a kiss to my temple. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. You know how she is.”
My chest tightens. “I don’t like secrets, Wesley. She asked me point blank if we’d been together and I lied right to her face. Keeping it from her feels wrong.”
“I don’t like having to hide it either,” he murmurs, brushing his lips across my hairline. “I hate that you have to lie for me. That we have to sneak around like this is something shameful when all I want is to go to sleep and wake up with you in my arms.”
My breath catches, his words carrying more weight than I want to admit. I tip my head back to look at him and whisper, “That’s all I want, too.”
His jaw tightens, thumb tracing lower across my spine. “Give me a little more time, okay? Then we won’t have to hide it anymore.”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” I say, searching his face in the dim light. “I know how much this place means to you.”
His eyes soften, a small smile tugging at his mouth as he brushes a stray strand of hair from my cheek. “Let me worry about that.”
I can’t stop smiling.
Not just because my morning started with Wesley fucking me against the shower wall—though that is officially my new favorite way to start the day.
And God, I can’t get him out of my head.
I never thought I could be this consumed by another person, undone by every look, every touch, every stolen moment that leaves me aching for more. Whatever this is between us—it’s bigger than I imagined. Wilder. Addictive. Like he’s stitched himself into me without even trying.
This is only supposed to be temporary, but I can’t help the way I crave him.
The sun is already merciless, pressing sticky heat down the back of my neck, gluing my shirt to my skin. But I don’t care.
Because today is the first day I get to finally lead a trail ride. Well…sort of. Emmett’s technically supervising, but before we left the house this morning, he grabbed my shoulders, stared deep into my eyes in this ridiculously dramatic way, and said, “You’re the captain today. You’re in charge.”
Even in his goofy, carefree demeanor, I could feel the underlying warmth of encouragement.
After months of scrubbing troughs, mucking stalls, and brushing horses until my arms felt like overcooked noodles, Heath finally recognizes my effort, and the validation rushes through me like sunlight.
The ranch is his livelihood. It’s everything to him, so earning his trust makes the weeks of shoveling shit all worth it.
I weave through the gathered group like I’ve seen Emmett and the guys do a hundred times, checking in with each guest individually and introducing myself. I smile at a few nervous kiddos fiddling with their helmets and stop to help a middle-aged couple adjust their stirrups.
I’ve been able to answer every question about the trail, pair riders to the right horses, and even tell everyone a little bit about the ranch. Emmett has been giving me not-so-subtle thumbs-ups for encouragement. I’m overflowing with gratitude and pure joy.
How am I supposed to go back to my old life and do something completely mundane for the next forty years?
“Hey—Sadie, right?”
I turn toward the voice. A guy about my age is standing near the fence line.
He’s tall and built like a swimmer, with deep copper skin and a head of curly black hair that makes him look more surfer than cowboy, despite the broad-brimmed hat on his head.
I recognize him as belonging to the family reunion group that’s visiting this week.
“That’s right,” I say brightly, tucking my clipboard under my arm and giving him my full attention. “What’s up?”
“I’m Aric.” He gestures with his thumb toward the cluster of people behind him. “We’re still waiting on a couple of my cousins—sorry to hold everyone up.” His grin is easy, charming. “I’m guessing by the very official clipboard that you’re the one I report to.”
“You guessed correctly,” I say, returning his smile. “But no worries, we’re not in any rush.”
I start to turn and look over my checklist when he stalls me with another question.
“How long have you been working here?”
“This is my first summer, actually.”
“No way.”
“Way.” I laugh, adjusting my hat and trying to look casual.
“Well, you’re a natural.”
“Thank you. That’s nice of you to say.” My smile is polite, practiced. I nod toward the group. “I have a few more guests to check on, but holler once the rest of your cousins are here.”
He tips the brim of his hat, still grinning.
I find Landon near the front, crouched to help two kids with their helmets. He shoots me a quick smile.
“They’re a little nervous,” he whispers, tilting his head toward the twins. “They’ll be fine once they get going.”
I nod, giving the boys an exaggerated thumbs-up before moving to Monty. His ears flick forward when I take his reins, and I run a hand over his flank and check the girth one last time. My boot is in the stirrup, ready to swing up—
But I never make it.
Firm hands clamp on my waist, yanking me back down with a force that knocks a breathless sound out of me.
“What the fu—” My boots hit the dirt hard. I whirl, glaring. “What is your problem?”
Wesley towers in front of me, jaw tight, eyes dark. His hands linger on me just long enough to make my pulse stutter, fingers spread wide for as much contact as possible.
“What did he say to you?” His voice is low, clipped, shoulders tense like he’s a second away from losing it.
I blink at him in complete bewilderment. “What?”
“The guy. What did he say?”
My brain stumbles, trying to catch up, refusing to believe this is happening right now. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
But he isn’t. His eyes pin me in place, the usual amber glow replaced with something raw and possessive, like the rest of the world has fallen away and it’s just the two of us in this charged, dangerous silence.
My skin tingles where he touched me, my body betraying me even as my brain screams at him to back off.
Before he can answer, Emmett materializes at my side. “Whoa, hey.” He raises his hands in the air, eyes flicking between us, like he’s approaching a wild animal—because he kind of is. “Chill the fuck out in front of the guests, man. What’s going on?”
“Do I look like I’m fucking kidding?” Wesley growls, eyes still locked on me. Accusing.
Unbelievable.
“I was being polite,” I snap, heat crawling up my neck. “Not that it’s any of your business. That was professional. I’m working.”
“It is my fucking business.”
Emmett glances between us, then over at Aric. “I heard the whole thing. She was fine. Everyone knows the rules, man. Relax.”
Wesley does not relax. He glares at me like he wants to say more—too much more. His jaw works, throat bobbing, fury and want simmering just beneath the surface.
Then, like he knows he’ll go off the deep end if he stays another second, he spins on his heel and stalks toward the barn.
I force a shaky breath into my lungs, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. My palms are itchy, my pulse racing, but I plaster on a smile like everything is fine.
Pretend. Pretend. Pretend.
“You good?” Emmett murmurs under his breath.
“Yeah.” I shove my foot back into the stirrup, hoisting myself into the saddle. “I’m fine.”
The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. Because I’m not fine. Not even close.
I can still feel Wesley’s hands on my waist. The heat of his glare burning through me. The way his anger looked an awful lot like something else.
My hands shake but I tighten them around the reins until the tremors still, my nails biting into my palms.
I don’t know what that was. Or what it means. But I can’t let it get in my head. Not now. Not when the whole group is waiting for me to lead them.
In perfect timing, Aric waves at me, signaling the rest of his group is ready. So I straighten my spine, fix my smile, and lead my first group on their ride.
My wet hair is twisted up in a towel when I hear the special knock on my door. Our special knock.
Three sharp taps, a two-second pause, then one solid thump.
For the past few days, that rhythm has been a promise. A secret. Usually it’s me sneaking into his room, but not tonight.
Tonight I’m still fuming, still replaying the way he yanked me down in front of an entire group of guests like I was some wayward child.
Part of me wants to pretend I didn’t hear him knock, to make him stew all alone in his jealous sea. But I hesitate, and Wesley slips into the room, pushing the door shut with his back.
His eyes sweep over me—bare legs, damp skin, towel knotted at my chest—and something dark flickers there, hungry and unrepentant. He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t give me space. He crosses the room in two strides, cupping my jaw and crushing his mouth to mine.
For a half second, my body betrays me—heat rushing up my spine, lips parting, opening for him, softening under his weight. Then fury surges back and I shove at his chest, hard.
He staggers half a step, brows knitting in confusion like I’m the one who’s lost my mind.
“What the fuck was that today?”
His jaw flexes. “What do you mean?”