She doesn’t let my preoccupation deter her. “That’s probably what I miss most. The horses. That was the one thing I enjoyed doing while I was at the ranch. Riding. And trying to domesticate the feral farm cats, of course.”
I stare sullenly at the tablecloth, andshe shakes her head at me, a smile ticking up the corner of her mouth. It looks so similar to the smirk Wes is always giving me that I finally meet her eyes.
“So, things with you and my brother must be getting pretty serious, huh?”
I roll my eyes because, honestly, it’s not something I want to discuss. I had convinced myself that he and I were just having fun. But then Hannah waltzed in, with his ring still on her finger, and now he’s off talking to her while I’m stuck here, wondering if they’re out there reconciling. And…why does that make my damn heart hurt so much?
I should have expected something like this when he'd reminded me he was leaving right after our perfect night under the stars. It would make sense. In a little over a week, he's gone and then whatever we have is over, anyway. We didn’t make each other any promises about what happens after he leaves, and I wasn’t looking for anything long term or serious.
So, why does the fact that he’s outside with his ex-fiancée feel like a knife to my kidneys?
Why does the idea of her touching him make me want to claw her eyes out? And how in the hell am I supposed to act like none of this has affected me when he gets back in here? I’ve never been a good actress. Whatever I’m feeling shows plain as day on my face, no matter how hard I try to hide it.
“We aren’t serious,” I finally answer.
Quinn squeezes my hand. “Well, I’ve never seen Wes look at someone the way he looked at you when you two walked in together. He’s serious about you, whether he's admitted it or not.”
“Pfft,” I blow air past my lips. “Right.”
Quinn gives me a soft smile. “You’ll see. Mark my words, that man is crazy for you.” She inclines her head toward the doors that Wes is walking through, and she stands up, waving him over.
Relief pours over his features when his gaze settles on me. Maybe he was worried I’d disappear while he was off talking with Hannah, but like some lovesick fool, I stayed. I’m out of my seat by the time he reaches the table, gathering my handbag. I wobble slightly, unsteady in the damn heels I never should have worn, and Wes steadies me with a firm hand on my hip.
I fix him with an angry stare.
Something flickers behind his eyes—regret, disappointment—but he gives me a small nod. “Alright, let’s go, Red.”
“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. I can find a ride.” Though, realistically, what Uber would take me nearly two hours back to Cottonwood Creek? And if Icouldfind one, the price would be outrageous.
He ignores me. “Quinn, tell Mom and Dad I’ll see them at Thanksgiving.”
“Sure. It was nice seeing you again, Sawyer,” she says as she gives her brother a hug. “See you guys at Thanksgiving.”
Wes’ hand settles on my lower back as we walk out of the hall and I immediately shrug him off. We make it to the car in silence, but my anger festers with every mile we put between us and the city. I bite my tongue, holding it all in, until I can’t stand it any longer.
Silent Treatment
Wes
One look at Sawyer’s face when I stepped back into the hall told me everything I needed to know. I’d fucked up. She couldn’t keep that fire raging underneath the surface from her expression, and I’d expected her to read me the riot act the second we got into my car. Instead, she’d stayed silent for the last hour, freezing me out rather than letting her anger scorch the earth.
I much preferred her usual way of handling her ire. At least when she yelled at me, I knew exactly what she was thinking. But the silent treatment? I hated being given the cold shoulder, especially by Sawyer.
I knew she was upset about Hannah, but I wasn't sure if her anger was directed at me or if the entire situation had just shaken her. I hadn’t intended to break my promise to stay by her side all night, but I needed Hannah to understand that things between us were truly over.
I couldn’t go back to the kind of relationship I had with Hannah after seeing how different things could be with someone else. Or maybe it was just that things were different with Sawyer.
Once I’d made that clear, Hannah had broken down, and I’d gotten her an Uber to make sure she got home safely. I hadn’t been choosing Hannah over Sawyer—I’d been drawing a line in the sand so Hannah wouldn't cross it again.
I didn’t want Hannah back. Hell, I’d never really wanted her back. I’d only lamented the disappointment I’d caused, the time spent in a relationship that had been so easy to throw away. But even that regret had faded. Because without that breakup, who knows if I’d have ever made my way back to Cottonwood Creek? If I’d have ever seen Sawyer again?
And that fact was unthinkable. Suddenly, the reality of being without Sawyer was bearing down on me impossibly fast.
I wasn’t ready. Mightneverbe ready. But I definitely wasn’t letting this be our last night together.
When the silence becomes unbearable, I finally speak up. “I’m sorry about Hannah.”
Sawyer’s face is impassive as she stares out the window into the dark. There’s nothing to see but sandhills and the sporadic herd of cattle.
