The warmth of his touch lingers even after it’s gone, leaving goosebumps in its wake. When I open my eyes, his face is unreadable.
“I’m not saying no,” he says carefully. “But I’m not saying yes either. I just think maybe this is something we should talk about when you’re a little more sober.”
I do my best to swallow my disappointment and not show how much I was hoping for a wildly enthusiastic yes. “Yeah. Sure. We can talk about it later.”
I’m never bringing it up again.
“You should come out with us tomorrow,” Tripp says, veering off topic. “You can look over the new calves.”
“Oh, babies!” I coo, mood already lifted at the idea of spending a day checking out all the babies on the ranch.
He chuckles, and the sound makes my chest ache in the best kind of way.
“Great,” he murmurs into my hair. “It’s a date.”
He inhales a deep breath and presses a kiss to my temple. My heart skips a beat, and the heated look that ghosts over his features leaves me wondering if this conversation might have ended differently if there had been a little less tequila involved.
Appreciating the View
Tripp
Wes grumbled about having to saddle a third horse since I invited Quinn to come out with us, but he shut up when I reminded him she won’t get many chances once Pops is home.
She’s dressed and ready to go when I knock on the door—jeans hugging her thighs and a T-shirt with a neckline that dips low enough to give me the type of inappropriate thoughts I shouldn’t be having about my best friend’s sister. But I’m finding it impossible to have anything but inappropriate thoughts after last night’s conversation.
Her hair is knotted at the base of her neck, and that wide-brimmed hat she’s wearing looks more like something out of a magazine than a farm supply store, but it’ll keep the sun off.
She avoids my gaze, clearly still embarrassed about last night. Somehow, I manage to sound almost normal when I greet her, despite tossingand turning all night thinking about fulfilling every single one of the fantasies on her list.
“Ready, Quinnie?”
“Let me grab my kit, just in case. Better safe than sorry.”
I nod. “I’ll meet you at the stable. I don’t want to hear Wes bitch if I don’t help him tack up the horses.”
That—and it’s getting harder and harder to be alone with her.
Last night, I couldn’t get her out of my head. Not the way she’d danced on the bar. Not how she’d felt curled up beside me in the bed of my truck. Not the way she’d admitted no man had ever made her come while she was tucked so perfectly up against me.
What the hell’s the matter with me?
I shouldn’t even bethinkingabout messing around with Quinn. There are a hundred reasons it’s a bad idea.
Reason number one:Wes would kill me. He knew way too much about what I was off doing in my late teens and early twenties to ever be okay with me and Quinn being together.
Reason number two:this town is small and the ranch is smaller. Someone was bound to figure it out, and when they did, they’d tell Wes. (See reason number one.)
Reason number three:I promised my dad I’d quit hooking up just for the hell of it—that I’d make sure it meant something. Doing this casual thing with Quinn would break that promise.
But would it really be meaningless withher?
Not with our history.
Not when she looks at me like I’m someone worth trusting.
Or maybe that’s just what I’m telling myself so I don’t feel like a piece of shit if I end up saying yes.
Five years of celibacy, and what do I have to show for it? No wife. No kids. No sign of that perfect life my dad thought I should be chasing. All those extra bedrooms I built into that house are still empty.
