Bruiser snorts, pawing at the dirt, then turns away from me.
“Not you too,” I mutter.
A sneaker scuffs a few feet behind me. “Talkin’ to yourself or the bull?”
I don’t take my eyes off Bruiser. “What are you doing here, Silas?”
“Wilder said you’d be here. Wanted to check on you after you ran out last night.”
“I’m not exactly in a position to chat right now,” I say, voice low but enough to be heard.
“Look, I’m heading back and I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”
I sigh with one last look at Bruiser before stepping back to lean against the fence. “Thank you for last night, Silas. I mean it. The dinner was nice, the bar after was—well, something to appreciate, I guess. I’ll make it up to you for skipping out early. Now will you go so I can get back to work?”
He squints up at the sun. “Heard about The Blue Branch. Rough night?”
“Rough night.” I rub my jaw. “Rough morning.” I think about Willow in the kitchen. Eyes averted. Shoulders tight. Cheeks flushed. But she didn’t look angry like I’d expected. More lost. Eyes fixed on the swirl of her coffee.
Silas shakes his head like he doesn’t understand. “Then move on and apologize. Or are you forgetting how important it is that she stays?”
“I’m not holding anyone hostage. And I didn’t do nothing wrong.” My jaw clenches. “She’s the one who didn’t tell me where she’s working, making me play guessing games all damn night. Didn’taskme for the night off. Then had the nerve to lash out because I wouldn’t stand back and watch her get assaulted,” I snap, noticing Bruiser square his stance.
Silas raises his arms in defense and steps back. “Dude, you might want to step out of the pen for this conversation.”
I shake my head. I don’t know what’s more tiring—unruly bulls or redheads I can’t seem to say the right thing to.
But it’s not going to be another fucking apology. Said enough of those last night.
It’s a hot reminder of some spirited arguments Millie and I shared. Had some grit in her too. Couldn’t stand those rows. One step in the danger zone and I’d pull back. Put up my white flag. Whatever it took to stop it in its tracks. Because I hated leaving her mad at me—regardless whose fault it was.
But God help me, Ilikethe way Willow looks at me when she’s mad. The fire in her eyes. The sharp, snappy wit. There’s passion there that makes me want to whip her around and kiss that mouth shut. Pull a desperate whimper out of her instead. And then there’s the stubbornness, the distance she sets almost instantly—like I’m the last man she should trust.
And that’s the part that keeps me waking up feeling the way I did this morning.
“OK, fine,” Silas continues when I refuse to abandon Bruiser for this conversation. “But one piece of advice—don’t throw theI’m paying youthing at her—nothing pisses off a woman more than feeling like she’s owned.”
“I know that.” In fact, that piece of advice would have come directly from me in any given circumstance. I clench my jaw. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.”
Silas steps back but doesn’t leave. “All right, well, I’m going to stay and watch .?.?. in case she knocks you unconscious and I need to call someone.”
“Bruiser’s ahe.” I adjust my hat and step toward the bull before he becomes restless. His ears twitch and he tenses. I crack the whip once into the dirt. He barely jerks.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Silas as he leans over the fence. “I meant the redhead that just pulled up in your truck.”
“What?” I look over my shoulder, cursing under my breath when I catch Willow jumping out of the driver’s seat. Freezing when she spots me inside the pen. She’s wearing a cream-colored floral sundress under a denim jacket, with brown boots, and that sunset hair falling down around her worried face.
I bring my eyes back to the bull. Fix them on his shoulders, hooves, muscles, kicks. Making sure I stay within his field of vision. “That’s right, over here,” I mutter.
I hear the car door shut and her boots crunching against the rocky ground.
“Ellie all right?” I ask when she’s within earshot, keeping my voice calm.
“She’s with Cole at the house. Ginger’s with them.”
Right. It’s Sunday. Cole visits on Sundays. “Fine. Why you here?”
Silas clears his throat and shakes his head in a warning. I don’t mean to be dismissive. But I’m not exactly in a friendly environment over here.
