“You motherfucker.”
He snorts a laugh and shakes his head at me. “Your shirt’s right. You’re truly a treat to be around,” he says caustically.
I shoot him a glare.
He exhales a noisy sigh and looks at the ceiling like he’s praying to God for patience. “Will you just do as you're told for once and sit that fine ass down?”
His shoulders go rigid as he realizes what he said and the red that was fading from his cheeks floods them once more.
I bite back a smile and sit. “I’m not sitting because you told me to. My legs are just tired,” I clarify.
He studies the recipe, avoiding my stare. “Mm-hmm,” he mumbles noncommittally.
“So, is what you’re making me a surprise?”
He shrugs. “I’m not sure it’ll turn out right. I don’t want to get your hopes up if it doesn’t live up to your expectations.”
His statement only serves to confuse me, but I let him have this one and don’t ask again.
I watch him work quietly, the smell of the food permeating my kitchen. Having him here, cooking for me, is a stark contrast to how I spend most evenings. I’m always cooking for Tripp and Pops, and Allie comes over sometimes to eat with us too. Allie cooks for me at her house from time to time, but I’ve never had a man cook for me.
Even as a child.
Even when I was married to my ex.
Landon never cooked. Never did much of anything for me, if I’m being honest with myself. Just tore me down and made me question everything. The reminder of who I became when I was married to him pulls a drawn-out sigh from me.
Wes glances back at me, potato masher in hand. “It’s almost ready, you impatient thing.”
I roll my eyes but give him a soft smile. “The sigh of exasperation had nothing to do with you. But good, ‘cause I’m hungrier than a tick on a teddy bear.”
He cocks his head to the side and looks me in the eye. “What was the sigh for then, if not for how I’m slowly starving you to death?”
It must be the intense look he has in those hazel eyes of his, like he’s trying to see straight into my soul, but instead of brushing off the question, I answer it honestly. “I was thinking about how you're the first man to cook for me.”
“That ex of yours never cooked you anything?”
I shrug and get up to set the table. My hands need something to do. I’ve started this conversation with Wes. I might as well finish it. “He always said that it was my job, since he was at work all day.”
“Weren’t you working too?”
“I was doing clerical work. I hated it, but his mom got me the job. I didn’t feel like I had a choice.” Another exasperated sigh slips past my lips.
“Was that one for me?”he asks, peering at me with soft eyes that make me believe he actually wants to know what's going through my head.
The earnestness in his gaze has me being more honest than I intended, spilling secrets that aren't meant for someone like Wes Dawson. I shake my head. “No. That one was for me. I lost myself when I married him. Little by little. He picked away at all the best parts of me.”
All the things I’d thought he had loved about me, my wildness, my independence, my drive, he hadn’t loved at all. He picked me apart like a vulture picks apart a carcass. And by the end, that’s all that was left of me, a mangled, bloodied corpse.
“That’s a damn shame.”
“I didn’t stay, though,” I say, trying to remind myself that I got out of that marriage. “Leaving him felt like finally breathing again.” I had found myself, a version of myself I loved. And I would never lose her again. The horses saved me.
“You’re strong as hell, Sawyer. I know it must have been hard.”He rests a hand on my shoulder as he reaches around me for my plate. His closeness has heat creeping up my neck and settling in my cheeks. The contact is brief, but it makes me feel like I'm on fire. And then it's gone, and he's loading my plate with the food that has my kitchen smelling divine.
I clear my throat, trying to dislodge the lump forming there. It’s been nearly a decade since the divorce, but thinking back to what I became when I was with him still makes me devastatingly sad. “He had this way of making me feel so small. I’d never felt that way before him. I never wantto feel that way again.”
It’s why I never ended up letting relationships get too serious. I never wanted to put myself in the position I’d been in at nineteen when I’d married Landon and watched him strip me down, piece by piece, until there was barely anything left.
