Chapter Twelve
The steel door that led to the back parking lot was cold to the touch and heavier than I anticipated.
My palms pressed forcefully against it, barely managing to push it open.
The night air invaded my privacy as soon as I stepped outside, making me hyperaware of the thudding of my heartbeat.
I’d left my suede jacket on all night and was now compressing it tightly around my body in an attempt to trap any leftover warmth.
I leaned my head on the wooden backside of the building, letting out a sigh.
“What the fuck was I thinking?” I let out. “I’ve lost my damn mind.”
If that man wanted anything to do with me, I would’ve known by now.
He’d had all night to come up to me and he never tried, not even once.
Aside from our stolen glances, there was nothing to suggest he was even remotely interested.
Why didn’t I take that as a hint instead of making a fool of myself in front of him?
Thank god Delilah didn’t see me because I may have actually died from embarrassment. She already thought she was superior to everyone; the last thing I needed was for her to see me trying to shoot my shot and falling flat on my ass.
Another deep breath rose and fell out of my body.
This was exactly the sign I needed because despite the buzzworthy thoughts I’d been having, Stetson Walker was absolutely off-limits—or at least he needed to be.
I grabbed my phone out of my jacket pocket and typed out a text message to Maggie.
Me:
I’m callin’ it a night. I’m exhausted.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Maggie:
I was just about to text you and see where you were. Do you want me to come with you?
Me:
No. I saw you and Booker by the jukebox and think you should probably stay right where you are. I love you.
Maggie:
Are you sure?
Me:
I’m sure. Chat tomorrow.
Maggie:
Love you.
My phone pinged.
Your Uber is arriving in six minutes.
“Going somewhere?”
The husky tone in his throat gave away his identity. I peered out from underneath my hat as I kept my body plastered to the back of the building, doing the best I could to show a lack of interest.
“Home,” I breathed. “I’m going home.”
The wind howled, forcing my attention onto the darkness in front of me as I crossed my arms and pressed my fingernails into them. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him nonchalantly moving until he was standing right in front of me.
Both of his hands rested in the pockets of his jeans. Naturally, I stared at those instead of his face because the nerves in my belly were furious and the thought of direct eye contact made my knees quiver.
Six minutes seemed like an eternity from now.
“Party isn’t over yet,” he said, his voice laced with an indication of something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Still looking down, I responded, “It is for me. It’s been a long night and I’m ready to go home.”
“Well, that’s a shame.” His boots inched closer. “I could’ve sworn you were finally on your way over to me before you rushed out the back door.”
My eyes flashed up, annoyance raging through them.
His stare was commanding, almost making me forget why I was annoyed in the first place. Until I noticed the smug smirk he was trying to hide under that mustache and the image of him slinking those lips up to Delilah’s ear.
Something darted around the depths of my belly.
“That’s where you’re wrong. I didn’t even notice you when I walked out,” I said, more confidently than I felt.
But he wasn’t wrong and he knew it, making this even more embarrassing.
“I don’t think I am though,” he said, shuffling even closer. At this point, our faces were inches apart, the warmth from his breath blanketing my cheeks and a fire roaring in my chest. I wanted to say something, I even tried to, but I couldn’t focus with this man so damn close to me.
“You think I didn’t have my eye on you all night,” he said casually, pulling one of his hands from the pocket of his jeans and placing it on the building behind me.
Was this man ever not calm?
“Your laughs at the bar. The dancing only a few feet away from me. The stolen glances you thought only you were stealing.” He breathed.
The smell of spearmint and whiskey danced around us.
“The only thing I couldn’t see was why you never came over to me, because based on nothing more than the number of times we both caught the other one staring, you were feeling whatever this is tonight,” he said, motioning his hand up and down.
I’d always assumed he was used to girls stealing glances at him, figuring he never gave them a second thought. There were no less than fifteen girls who’d gone up to him throughout the night.
Not like I was counting or anything.
“Me? Couldn’t I ask you the same thing?” I dropped my arms, pointing my finger at him and pushing it into his firm chest. The urge to flatten my palm was dangerously strong, but I resisted.
“You have no problem whispering god knows what into Delilah’s ear and spinning her around the dance floor.
You could’ve easily done the same with me. ”
His eyes darkened as a wicked grin two-stepped across his face.
“I thought you didn’t notice me when you left?”
Dammit.
This man was infuriating.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said firmly.
I was quick on my toes, surprisingly so, because every ounce of my body was hungry for just a taste of his touch. But after tonight, it made me think that maybe I’d given him too much benefit of the doubt when it came to who he was.
I would never say this out loud, but part of me, just a little part, had thought that maybe the baby spark I’d felt flicker every time he was around—even in the dark when I hadn’t known who he was—was a reciprocated feeling.
But now, it was clear I’d gotten ahead of myself, and he was, in fact, just a man who was looking for another notch in his belt.
“And you didn’t answer mine,” he said, moving his other hand from his pocket.
“I asked first, but it doesn’t matter; I already know the answer.”
“Is that right?” he inquired.
“Even with your very well-done performance on multiple occasions, you are exactly what I initially thought you were. You’re so used to women throwing themselves at you, you’ve found no reason to put forward any effort of your own. And why should you? Women like Delilah are a dime a dozen.”
Frustration crawled up my throat at the reality of how much I cared.
“Woah, woah, woah,” he said, his voice defensive. “You’re the one who basically told me you weren’t interested, so how would I know you changed your mind unless you came up to me?”
“What? When did I say that?” I asked.
“A few weeks ago, when we were riding at Rolling Meadows. You told me about the whole wedding thing. I just assumed that was a helluva way of telling me to back off.”
I fast-forwarded through our conversation that day at the farm, coming up empty-handed on how he would’ve ended up with that conclusion, but it didn’t matter. All the courage I’d previously had was gone, reminding me that getting involved with this man would end badly.
I had an opportunity to run, so I took it.
“You’re right,” I confirmed. “Me getting left at the altar nine months ago is exactly the reason this can’t go anywhere.
” I lied right through my teeth, because deep down, I’d love to pull this man closer and push my mouth into his, but I was in no shape to play bullshit games, let alone compete with Delilah Boudreau.
“So, you want to fuck Delilah, despite her lack of character, that’s your choice.
You’re a grown-ass man.” The profanity of my comment caught me off guard; my voice was telling one story, but my body was telling a completely different one.
It was as if there were some gravitational pull urging me closer to him because I kept finding myself leaning in further.
“Does that bother you?” he asked, letting his fingers lightly tip my hat up before his arm fell back to his side.
My eyebrows scrunched and my insides scrambled.
“Me with someone else. Would that make you jealous?” he restated.
“Jealous? Ha.” I swallowed. “Nope. Not even a little.”
His free hand found its way to my thigh, scrunching the chiffon material up and out of the way until the sparks of his fingertips made themselves known. He lightly dragged them up and down, drawing circles on my skin, recruiting an army of chills all over my body.
“Not even a little?” he asked.
I shook my head no, muttering, “Nuh-uh.”
“You’re lying again,” he said, the steady rhythm of his voice filling what little space there was between us before he shifted his mouth closer.
The tickle of his mustache in my ear filled my stomach, whispers dancing from his lips.
“And let me tell you something. If I wanted to fuck Delilah, I would’ve already done it.
Instead, I spent my night irritatingly aware of your every move.
From the second you walked into the bar to the second you walked out. ”
My eyes closed without permission, his words nipping the next breath from my chest.
“Scarlett?” A muffled voice called from behind a car window. “I’m here for a Scarlett.”
Both of my hands pushed flat against his chest, unfortunately allowing more space between the two of us.
“That’s me. I’m Scarlett.”
“Stay,” he stated very calmly.
“I can’t.”
I forced my feet to move, stepping away from him, but not before he snagged my wrist with his hand, his grip tight enough to stop me but soft enough to feel careful. He pulled me back around until I faced him.
Little fires danced up my arm, growing hotter with every second he held on.
“Next time you tell me to fuck someone, it better be you.”
“I’m not so sure there’s going to be a next time.”
I ignored every fiber of my body craving him and pulled away before slinking into the back of the Uber.