“I love it.”
I think I’m in love with you too.
His brows curve upward, eyes sparking. “Really?”
I go up on my toes so I can take off his hat, which I place on the hood. Crown-side down, of course.
“Really. Just thinking about it—Ry, my heart.” I take his hand and place it on my chest. “It’s pounding. You did research? For me?”
He grins. “I did.”
“But I have no idea how I’d pull it off?—”
“We’d help you, of course.” His hand moves to my breast.
“There you go again, saying ‘we.’” I grab the hem of his soaked shirt and start to work it upward, baring his chest.
He kneads my breast before giving my nipple a soft pinch through my shirt. “At the end of the day, that’s all we got, ain’t it?” He leans in and hovers his mouth over mine. “Each other.”
Then his lips are on mine, and I’m lost.
CHAPTER 20
Tired of Running
RYDER
Fuck,I’m hard.
The taste of her mouth. That’s all it takes.
That, and the way her heart pounded strong and healthy against my hand after I floated my idea.
I debated for hours—days—whether I actually should share the whole animal therapy thing. If I should even come here. What right do I have to see her again? I was operating under the assumption that our hookup was a one-time-only thing.
But that good sleep I was enjoying? It dissipated the longer I was away from Billie. Last night, I tossed and turned, barely getting a wink. Then I spent the day either pacing in my tiny living room, my knees aching, pulse popping inside my skin, or googling shit like, “animal therapy start-up costs,” “how to build an animal therapy program,” and “working with your significant other good or bad.”
Fuck it.
That’s the conclusion I finally came to after all offour daysof denying myself her company.
I can’t do this anymore. I have to see her.
So I ditched my chores and hopped in my truck and drove to the Wallace Ranch.
Before, I would’ve been proud of my ability to deny myself. The longer I could stay away from a girl like Billie, the stronger I was.
I was safe. And that’s what mattered more than anything.
Now I’m coming to grips with how much I’m missing out on by playing it safe. Self-restraint hasn’t made me any happier.
It’s cut me off from the pleasures, both small and profound, of being alive.
Anyone could’ve seen me on my drive over here.
Anyone can still see me even though I was careful to park my truck far from the road. This is the Wallace’s property. Colt lives here, and so do his parents.
And calling Tate? Big gamble. He’s a stand-up guy, but he could easily tell his brothers I was looking for Billie.
