20. Taylor
Taylor
“Wipe that grin off your face,” Roman grumbles. “It’s just a quick ride.”
The old pickup creaks beneath me as I climb into the passenger seat, unable to hold back my smile. It feels ridiculous to be this excited over a trip into town. Still, after weeks of being surrounded by endless mountains, the thought of seeing civilization again feels like Christmas morning.
Roman circles around the hood and climbs behind the wheel.
The truck groans to life. He shifts into gear, and we roll away from the ranch, soon winding down the mountain road.
I relax in the seat, soaking up the passing view through the window.
Pale winter sunlight filters through the towering pine trees, making the frost-covered landscape sparkle like scattered diamonds.
It’s serene. And it’s now that I realize I haven’t thought about home in a while. I certainly haven’t missed the city.
I’m not looking forward to leaving this peacefulness at all.
The thought hits me like a gut punch. I shift my weight on the seat, pushing it firmly to the back of my mind. Next year, I’ll be heading to law school, exactly where I’m destined to be. There’s nothing here in Hallow Creek for me, anyway.
“Are you okay?” Roman asks.
“Yes.”
I glance sideways at him. He’s wearing his usual dark sweater beneath a thick canvas jacket, faded jeans, and a battered cowboy hat.
A heavy wool coat is draped over the seat behind him, ready for when we stop.
One hand rests casually on the steering wheel while the other shifts gears with practiced ease.
It’s the movement of those hands that triggers memories of yesterday.
What began as a simple wound dressing led to something that left me so confused, yet so turned on, and my body still has no idea which direction to lean.
In society’s eyes, Roman is off-limits. Where I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter that he’s Dad’s stepbrother.
When I look at Roman, all I see is a man whose simple touch and heated stares made me feel good.
There are consequences to consider, I know that. On the other hand, I want to chase that feeling. Call me greedy. While I’m still reeling from the mind-blowing sex I had with Jude, I’m also curious about how Roman would feel inside me.
The thought should freak me out, but it doesn’t.
Roman and Jude having sex doesn’t disturb me, either.
Well, not anymore. Seeing Roman leave Jude’s room that night made me a little jealous, but I was relieved to find out they weren’t in a committed relationship.
I once got involved in a messy situation, and I won’t make that mistake again.
Roman clears his throat, the sound rough enough to pull me from my thoughts. “I owe you an apology,” he says.
Surprised, I look over at him. “For what?”
“For yesterday.” His eyes never leave the road. “I shouldn’t have...” He exhales slowly. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way.”
Meaning, he shouldn’t have gotten hard for me. The image of that bulge in his pants sends heat everywhere. I thought Jude was huge, but Roman... oh my God. I squirm in the seat.
“I’m in charge around here,” he continues. “Technically, you’re working for me. I should’ve known better than to let myself...”
“Get turned on?” I ask.
His jaw tightens. “Yes, and it was inappropriate.”
I study his profile. Guilt swarms every inch of his face. “I don’t think you were inappropriate.”
“You don’t?”
“No. What’s the point of pretending? Something happened in that kitchen, Roman. It might’ve been strange and maybe a little awkward, but we’re adults. We’re attracted to each other. I’m not offended by that.”
Roman’s grip tightens around the wheel. “That doesn’t make it acceptable, Taylor. I’m responsible for you while you’re here. And you’re—“
He pauses, and I swear he wants to crush the steering wheel. “You’re young enough to be my son.”
I snort, then I burst into a laugh. Not because it’s funny, but because of how absurd it sounds.
His head turns sharply. “What?”
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head, still chuckling. “I know you’re serious.”
“You bet I am.”
“But I’m not your son. Biologically, we’re not family, so comparing me to your ‘son’ doesn’t really work.”
Roman goes silent. The truck rounds another bend, giving me a breathtaking view of snow-covered houses in the valley below. I take it in for a moment before speaking again.
“I’m not saying you should sleep with me, you know.”
His shoulders stiffen again.
“What I’m saying is, if you wanted to...” I meet his eyes when he glances over at me. A smile tugs on my lips. “... I’d want it, too.”
Roman shifts his gaze back to the road. Another wave of silence descends on us, and for a long moment, the only sounds are the engine and the radio. Finally, when I’m starting to wonder if I’d broken him, he grumbles under his breath, “I liked you better when you thought I was an asshole.”
I burst into another round of laughter, the kind I haven’t heard from myself in like… ever. My stomach hurts. I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye. “Oh, come on. You don’t mean that.”
“Trust me, I do.” But his voice carries a hint of amusement that reveals the truth.
“You don’t. If you really wanted me to keep thinking you were an asshole, you wouldn’t have invited me to town.”
He grunts. I tilt my head at him. “You wouldn’t have cared that I’d cut myself. You certainly wouldn’t have dressed the wound.”
“Your mother would’ve skinned me alive otherwise,” he mumbles.
I ignore his weak defense. Nerve endings spark to life in my body as I say, “And you definitely wouldn’t apologize for turning me on yesterday.”
He mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like a curse, but as he pulls into a parking space before the grocery store, I catch the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. It’s not quite a smile, but it makes me wonder how long before he surrenders to his attraction to me.