I nodded, feeling a strange tug in my gut.
Rob snapped his fingers. “Hey, are your folks still doing that big barbecue next weekend?”
Shit. I’d forgotten all about it. “Yeah, they are. We’ll be there. You?”
“We wouldn’t miss it, but especially now. Everyone is going to want to meet Charlotte. I can’t wait to see their reactions.” He clapped me on the shoulder again and turned to head back to his table, still grinning like a fool. “Congrats, man. Really.”
I left the club carrying more than the brown paper bag of food. The idea of pulling into the driveway and knowing she was inside, my wife, waiting for me? The prospect excited me.
It didn’t feel heavy the way marriage used to feel with Savannah. It didn’t feel like a burden at all, actually. It felt like something I wanted to get used to, coming home to her, in a house that didn’t feel empty anymore.
But when I walked inside, the entryway was quiet. “Charlotte?”
No answer.
I checked the kitchen. The living room. Upstairs. Nothing. A flicker of unease crawled up my spine. Figuring that maybe she’d gotten bored of talking to the furniture again, I headed out back to the stables. As soon as I stepped inside, my stomach dropped.
One of the horses was missing.
“Damn it,” I muttered, scanning the empty stall.
Of course, she’d gone for a ride while the clouds had been gathering all morning. If she’d just told me she planned on going, I could’ve warned her about those particular clouds coming from that direction.
What was worse was that she barely knew the land. She didn’t know how fast storms came in around here or the best ways home.
A crack of thunder split the sky open like confirmation from above. Then the rain came, driving down in sheets that turned the ground to mud.
“Charlotte,” I breathed, already running toward the tack room.
That warm feeling from earlier that had made me think I could get used to this morphed into something sharp and cold. She was out there somewhere. Alone. On a horse in weather that could turn dangerous real fast.
Only one thought pounded through my head as I jumped on Chili Pepper’s back, desperately searching the fields for any trace of her. It was louder than the thunder and stronger than the rain, a truth I couldn’t outrun anymore.
Nothing about my feelings for her was fake, or born from duty, or any of the other bullshit I’d been trying to hide behind. What I felt for Charlotte Shepard was very, very real and right now that meant I was absolutely fucking terrified of losing her.
CHAPTER 31
CHARLOTTE
Irealized pretty quickly I was in over my head. When I’d left the stables, it’d been cloudy, but that was changing faster than I ever could’ve imagined possible.
The first crack of thunder didn’t just echo, it boomed across the wide open land, rattling my teeth. Apparently, Texas thunderstorms weren’t like the ones we had back home.
These clouds were so low, it felt like I could stand on my stirrups and touch them, heavy, and bruised, tinted this eerie, sickly green that made my skin crawl. All I’d wanted this morning had been to get out of that house.
Claira’s revelation had hit me square in the chest. She’d given the ring on my finger to Trent to give to the woman he’d spend his life with. While she’d seemed happy enough that I was the one wearing it now, the news had sent me spiraling, making me question every fragile, hopeful thing growing between Trent and me.
I hadn’t wanted to jump to all the conclusions I’d already jumped to, so I’d saddled up Hurricane Hustle and told myself a ride would help. Some fresh air, some sunshine, and maybe I’d be able to breathe again.
All I’d wanted was a clear head to help me straighten out the tangle of confusion in my chest, my throat, and in my brain. The tangle that whispered I wanted this marriage to be real and more importantly, that I wanted him to bein itfor real.
But the sun was long gone now.
Clouds were rolling so fast they churned and the scent of ozone was thick. My shirt clung to my skin, plastered down by the sudden humidity. I tried guiding Hustle back toward the dirt road we’d come down what felt like three minutes ago.
“Easy, boy,” I murmured, patting his neck. His muscles twitched beneath my palm and I knew he was already nervous, but then the sirens started and he got a dozen times worse. The unsettling sound pierced the thick air, so strange since it seemed to be coming out of nowhere. It felt like Hustle and I had run straight into the end of the world.
These weren’t kind of sirens we had in the city. They didn’t belong to ambulances or the police. The sounds were long and low, rising and falling in a way that vibrated up my spine. Clearly, Hustle didn’t like them much either.
