Damn it, this wasnota good idea.
I don’t even know what “this” is, but in my gut, I know I gotta cut this shit off at the pass, or?—
Or what?What’s worse than sleepwalking through your life?
Getting crushed by grief, dipshit.
“I had a bad day.” Her mirth fades. “And my arm still makes it tough to sleep. I could really use a pick-me-up.”
I frown. Next thing I know, I’m climbing out of the cab and I’m standing beside her. The scent of something girly fills myhead. Shampoo, maybe, or perfume. It smells like peaches, and my heart contracts wondering if Billie has a hard time washing her hair with her broken elbow.
“You in pain? What can I do? Do you think we should go back to the ER, or?—”
“I’m fine.” Her eyes flick over my arms and chest before returning to my face. “Honestly, the doc said my elbow is healing beautifully.”
Gotta be a good sign, right, that she’s only wearing a sling and not a cast?
“Should you be driving, though?”
Her smirk is back. “I’d like it better if you drove.”
“You really wanna go for a tractor ride?”
“Ry, I spent the day chained to a desk. Next to myDad. With abroken arm. I’d love to go for a ride, yes.”
I’m smiling again too. “That desk stuff don’t sound like much fun.” I nod at the plate. “Talk to me about this situation.”
“Mom’s blondies.” She offers me the plate, and I take it and remove the tinfoil. The rich smells of butter and chocolate flood my senses. “She made ’em just how you like—extra chocolate chips, no nuts.”
“Yeah, because nuts are gross.”
“You’regross.”
“You’re smiling, ain’t you?”
Her eyes are soft when they meet mine. “I am. Yeah. Thank you.” Then she glances at the field. “You planning to finish cutting this bit, or…?”
I sigh. “I was, yeah.”
“Working late.” She cuts me a questioning glance, and my pulse hiccups.
Yeah, Billie, I’ve been working fourteen-, fifteen-, sixteen-hour days. Because ever since I saw you at the rodeo, I can’t sleep.
Can’t stop thinking about you or the loneliness that is pressing in on me from all sides all of a sudden. Three weeks of this torture, and I’m losing my damn mind.
I look away. “Lots to do. Lots goin’ on right now on the ranch.”
“It looks great. You should be proud.”
Nodding, I grab a blondie and take a big bite. Its buttery sweetness is absolutely delicious. Paired with the bite of the semisweet chocolate, the whole thing is a mouth orgasm.
Whyis that the metaphor I come up with while Billie is at my elbow? Her gaze is steady, curious too, as she watches me eat.
“That’s good,” I manage. “Real good.”
“You’re welcome.” She grabs a blondie too, and I have to look away when she gets this look of pure bliss on her face as she eats. Only, I can’t help sneaking another glance her way, because I’m a masochist like that.
Closing her eyes, she chews thoughtfully for a minute. “Do you ever get this feeling—like, you don’t know how you’re gonna survive the rest of your life?”
