But it doesn’t matter because I can already hear her footsteps pounding down the stairs.
Tripp hastily kisses me, his lips searing me with a heat I’ve come to know all too well these last weeks. When he steps away from me and walks out my bedroom door, a blanket of cold falls over me.
I quickly dress and follow him downstairs less than a minute later, my hair tied back in an untidy braid.
Wes comes stomping through the door as I slip into the kitchen, avoiding Sawyer’s gaze.
“Where the hell were you?” Wes asks Tripp.
He shrugs. “I just went to give Winston a treat.”
“Christ, you’re as obsessed with that damn pig as Quinn is,” he grumbles.
Sawyer snorts, and I shake my head at her aggressively, praying she doesn’t say anything.
She just rolls her eyes and slams the food on the table. “Come and get it.”
Pops is already at the table, watching us all with what can only be described as utter fucking delight.
Discomfort worms through me, but one glance at Tripp tells me he’s totally in his element, leaning back and completely at ease with that damn smile plastered on his handsome face.
“It smells great, Red,” Wes says, giving Sawyer a rare smile. It’s a look he saves just for her, and my heart warms a little to see how happy he is here.
Chairs scrape against the floor, and dishes and silverware clatter as everyone fills their plates with food.
I note that Pops’ face is carefully fixed in a neutral expression as he eyes the food. Even Pops is a little scared to cross Sawyer.
Tripp’s fingers brush over the bare skin of my thigh idly under the table, and I tense under his comfortable touch. It’s not a touch meant to arouse, but one done without intention or an end in mind. It’s simple contact—something Tripp craves, even in a room full of people with my brother’s eyes focused a little too suspiciously on us.
I don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it. He’s become so accustomed to touching me whenever he wants, he’s forgotten we aren’t alone here.
I try to swallow around the piece of chicken caught in my throat as Wes’ eyes narrow on Tripp, who’s talking about his old partner, Brooks, coming to Cottonwood Creek to take a look at the ranch.
Wes mumbles a brief response and then skewers me with a direct look. “Why didn’t you ever mention your job offer in Denver, Quinn?”
I freeze, mouth open, a bite of rice poised on my fork. I feel Tripp’s head whip in my direction, but I can’t bear to look at him.
I clear my throat and shrug, trying not to unravel as Sawyer’s brows shoot to her hairline and Pops leans back in his chair.
“I haven’t made a decision about it yet. Mom told you?”
Wes nods.
“You got a job offer?” Tripp’s voice is a hoarse rasp that makes my heart sink. “In Denver?”
I chance a glance in his direction and immediately know it was a mistake because I don’t want to see any of the things that are written all over his face. His smile is gone, his fork frozen halfway to his mouth, and he looks absolutely gutted.
“And you didn’t tell me?” His voice wavers, thin with hurt and betrayal.
It’s not about Denver.
I know that.
It’s about me keeping it from him when he’s been at my side every day and in my bed almost as often. It’s about him always being the one I go to when I need to talk things out but never saying a damn word about this.
“I hadn’t decided,” I murmur, trying to sound nonchalant even as heat creeps up my neck. “I’m still weighing my options.”
“How long?” Tripp presses, his voice a low rumble on the verge of a growl. “How long have you been sitting on this without telling me? Were you going to wait until you were a day away from leaving to say something?”
