“Yeah.”
“No wonder she’s pissed at you.” He shook his head. “You can’t do that to a woman, Dalton. You can’t get her all worked up, make her think you want her, then pull away and say it was wrong.”
“I know.”
And I did know. I knew I’d hurt her. Knew I’d made her feel like she wasn’t enough when the truth was she was too much. Too perfect. Too everything I’d ever wanted and convinced myself I couldn’t have.
“Do you have feelings for her?” Cade asked point-blank.
I wanted to lie. Wanted to say no and end this conversation.
But I was tired of lying. Tired of pretending.
“Yeah,” I admitted quietly. “I do.”
“Then tell her that. When she gets back, tell her how you feel. Tell her you want her to stay. Give her a reason to.”
“And if she says no? If she leaves anyway?”
“Then at least you tried. At least you didn’t spend the rest of your life wondering what if.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “But I don’t think she will. I think she feels the same way. And I think that scares her as much as it scares you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Amber
Sunday morning, I woke to the sound of town. The soft hush of traffic on the streets outside. The low rumble of voices as my mother and aunt talked. I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling of my childhood bedroom, and let myself think the thought I’d been avoiding since yesterday.
I loved him.
I was in love with Dalton King.
The realization didn’t make me feel warm or hopeful. It just made me tired.
Because I loved a man who’d told me not to call him. Who’d made it crystal clear he didn’t want me in his life beyond the temporary job I was there to do.
I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and the weather alerts covered my screen. The storm moving in faster than expected. Heavy snow. Hazardous road conditions.
I should stay here and wait until it passed.
But I’d told Dalton I’d be back this afternoon. And something in me needed to keep that promise. I needed to prove—to him or to myself, I wasn’t sure—that I was different from Sarah. That when I said I’d come back, I meant it.
Even if he’d told me not to call him.
Even if it hurt.
Even if I was probably a fool for going back at all.
Mom was sitting by the living room window when I went downstairs, watching the birds flutter around the bird feeder we’d placed there last summer.
“The weather’s bad,” she said, worry creasing her face when she saw I was dressed and ready to leave. “You should stay.”
“I know. But I promised I’d be back today.” I kissed her cheek. “I’ll be careful. I’ll text you when I get there.”
And that was all there was to me returning to Dalton’s ranch. Just the job. Nothing else.
I was lying to myself, but Mom didn’t call me on it.
She just pulled me into a hug with her good arm. “Drive carefully. And if that man doesn’t apologize, you tell him where he can shove it.”
