Killian’s eyes narrow at me for a second before moving to Hunter. “Wild night. Is there someone around here that can take me home?”
Wild night.
Sure looks like he had a wild night to me. I wonder if he spentthatwild nightalone.
Or did him and Noah hit the town, maybe picking up a couple of women to keep them company after Noah dropped Bella and me home?
Something sour settles deep in my stomach and I mentally shake my head at myself. I shouldn’t care. I have no right to care who he spends his nights with. It’s been three years. I’m sure there have been many wild nights in those years.
I’m spiralling. And if I don’t get away from him soon, I may do something stupid, like ask him who he was with last night after he walked away from me.
I throw the horse brush into the bucket on the floor outside of the stall and pick it up, ready to make my exit. Hunter’s next words have me freezing. “Well, Daisy was just heading out, so she could-”
“No!” We both snap in unison.
Hunter frowns, looking between us in confusion. “No?”
Killian shakes his head, his eyes pleading. “No.”
Despite the fact that I didn’t want to endure twenty minutes in the car with him completely alone, I can’t control the pang of hurt that hits me at his response.
With a frown, I shake my head lightly and continue to the tack room.
I spend more time than necessary cleaning up after myself. Even going as far as organising some of the equipment to avoid going back out there and facing them again.
Once I’m certain enough time has passed, I remove my coveralls and collect my belongings before hightailing it to my car.
The entire drive home from the ranch is filled with thoughts of Killian. Most of my days are filled withthoughts of him now that I’m home, but those are usually memories triggered by something familiar.
Now, however, I’m plagued by images of him with someone else. Was his hair tousled earlier because a woman had been running her fingers through it all night? Is she someone we went to school with? Someone I once considered a friend? The questions swirling around my brain are endless.
Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me?
I mentally berate myself as I park my car, climb out and trudge up the steps to the house.
Music and the spicy smell of cinnamon greet me as I step through the front door and kick my shoes off. My stomach grumbles in the most unladylike fashion then, reminding me I haven’t eaten anything today and I follow the scent into the kitchen.
Bella stands at the island, her hair thrown up in a messy bun as she sways to the soft country music, mixing bowl and whisk in hand. She’s completely in her zone, not having noticed me yet, and I smile softly, taking in this new version of my best friend.
“Smells like fall in here,” I speak up from the doorway.
Bella whirls around, her face startled briefly before she smiles, her cheeks tinted pink beneath a smudge of flour. “I’m working on some recipes for my Autumn menu at the café.”
“It’s barely spring, Bells.” I raise a brow in amusement.
She rolls her eyes. “I know. I like to be prepared.”
I bob my head slowly, rolling my lips between my teeth to hold back a smile. “Uh-huh.”
Bella huffs, blowing a tendril of hair from out of her face. “Fine. I’m making cinnamon rolls for Justin.”
I finally let my smile break free. “It’s going well then?”
“Yep,” she pops the p.
I wait for her to say more, but when she busies herself mixing whatever’s in her bowl, I realise she’s not going to. “That’s all you’re gonna give me?”
“Yep,” she answers again.
