“I know.”
His fingers slid down the curve of my jaw,steady and warm in a way the cold water was not. My pulse pounded where his thumb rested under my chin. He moved closer until his chest was almost touching mine, our wet clothes making every brush feel like skin.
“You’re scared,” he said quietly.
I did not argue. I could not.
He placed his other hand on my hip, slow and careful, giving me every chance to stop him. I did not. His touch spread warmth through the soaked fabric, fingers curving just enough to make my stomach clench.
“Tessa,” he said, his voice rough now, “tell me you don’t want me here.”
I opened my mouth and found nothing there.
His forehead lowered toward mine. Our noses brushed. The shock of it shot straight through me. His breath was warm against my cheek. His lips hovered a breath from mine. I swayed, and his grip tightened just enough to steady me.
Then the gate slammed outside.
Metal rang. The mare squealed. Something thudded hard enough to rattle the walls.
We tore apart like lightning had struck between us.
Air crashed back into my lungs as Wyatt’s hand dropped instantly, his fingers curling into a fist at his side as if he were physically holding himself back. For one raw second, he looked wrecked, wanting, and furious at himself all at once.
“We should check that,” I said, my voice barely working.
“Yeah.”
He turned first, movements sharp and controlled. I pressed my fingers to my neck where he touched me, my skin still humming with the heat from his touch...
By the time I reached the gate, he was already fixing it, jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. He glanced at me once.
“Change your clothes. You’ll get sick.”
“That’s not how sickness works, andI’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“Wyatt.”
“Don’t,” he said quietly, and the hurt threaded through it stopped me cold.
“Where’s Dani?”
“She had to go back to Calgary for a meeting,” I replied, and watched him look around.
“Keep the doors locked tonight.”
Ice slid straight through my spine. “Why?”
“Just a feeling.”
“Do you know something you’re not telling me?”
His jaw flexed hard. “Just be careful. Please.”
That single word hit me harder than everything else.
He got into his truck and drove off, gravel spitting under his tires. I stood there on the porch, dripping and shaking, my body still remembering his hands on my hips, his breath on my cheek, the phantom pressure of his mouth almost on mine.
