He nods once, like that settles something. “Don’t usually come in here. No appetite before noon.”
“Plenty of appetite after noon,” I say before I can stop myself. Our eyes meet, then sizzle.
But his face is unreadable, his jaw tight and working.
“Told you it’d be once,” he says.
I lean closer, and his face darkens. I’m doing something to him, hovering close enough to feel his heat. “But you wanted more.”
“I did.” He says it flatly. Like that’s the end of it.
His eyes dart past me. “Back up or people will start talking.” His voice is steel, eyes narrow and cold.
“Since when did you care about what people think?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.
“Not my concern. Yours.” He removes his Stetson, swiping fingers through his hair. Fingers that pleased the hell out of me last night.
A throb settles between my legs.
“I’ll see you later… to work.” He grimaces after he says it, hand coming halfway up to my hip. But then he stills.
“Maybe,” I counter arching an eyebrow. Tired of begging for leftovers from men like him. “Either way, thanks for the romp in the hay, cowboy.”
He freezes, face unreadable.
I hold my breath, waiting for something. I don’t know what.
But then he straightens, saunters away—ass tight, thighs thick beneath fitted Wranglers.
I may not understand him. I may feel hurt… and confused. But he still steals my breath. And today, he’s not giving it back.
Outside, birds sing unending choruses. The world is slipping back into morning as if nothing happened. As if I didn’t let this man touch parts of me I’ve kept guarded for far too long. Like I didn’t walk into this wanting more than one reckless night and knowing better than to ask for it.
I head to the main house, checking the activities board. Hay ride in an hour. Horseback excursion into the foothills. Stargazing.
Enough ways to avoid him for the rest of my trip.
Excursion it is.
Six hours later,my legs ache, and I still feel like I’m bumping up and down in a saddle even when I’m standing still. I take a shower, blowdry my hair, and change into fresh clothes at my cabin.
Then, I go to the main house again, trying to convince myself all I want is a relaxing dinner with fellow travelers and some stargazing.
What I really want?Him.
That’s when I do it. I head straight for the barn because I know he doesn’t want me there, and I can’t stay away.
When I enter, Levi reaches for a bridle hanging on the wall and adjusts it without reason. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t register my presence.
Busy hands. Closed face.
He’s putting himself back together right in front of me.
I know what that looks like. I’m doing it, too.
Still, some foolish part of me waits for him to turn around and say something real.
He doesn’t.
