Page 100 of Stay Wild Darlin’

“For what?” she asked, arms crossing lightly over her chest.

“I got us a room,” I said, shutting the door and walking around to open hers. “Near where your parents are hosting the party. Figured we might wanna have a drink or two, and it’d be late when it’s all over.”

She blinked at me, her expression unreadable.

“Papa Banks has it covered,” I added. “We can come back tomorrow morning. No rush.”

“Are my clothes in there?”

I nodded. “I, er, when you were with Cora, putting her down for her second nap, I went in and grabbed some stuff. We won’t need much, but I brought your toothbrush, a pair of jeans you wear, a T-shirt, and some face-cleaning stuff.”

She chuckled. “That’s creepy, cowboy.”

It was a sacrifice, breaking and entering into her room, and normally I’d never violate that privacy, but I desperately wanted this—for us.

“I won’t do it again. I promise it was to surprise⁠—”

She held up her hand. “It’s fine. I promise.”

She didn’t say anything else, just slid into the seat, smoothed her hands over the dress, and stared out the window.

That was that.

We hit the road and headed toward Dallas.

It was quiet for the first hour.

Not the peaceful kind of quiet—the heavy kind. The kind that makes your hands tighten on the wheel and your mind run laps around itself.

I glanced at her a few times.

She didn’t look angry or sad, just somewhere . . . off.

Hour two crept in, and still, nothing.

No music. No small talk.

I was about two minutes away from pulling the fuck over and demanding she tell me what was wrong, because this silence was driving me insane.

I remembered that post.

The responses.

“You probably said something dumb.”

“It’s always the ex.”

I flexed my fingers on the steering wheel and exhaled through my nose. “It’s the conversation after we had sex, isn’t it?”

Her head snapped toward me. I glanced over, and sure enough, her eyes went wide.

“I knew it,” I mumbled. “The second I said it, you went quiet.”

“It’s nothing,” she murmured flatly. “I’m very grateful you’re coming with me.”

“Fuck, Poppy,” I bit out. “Tell me what’s wrong. Seriously.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw the way her jaw tightened, lips pressing into a line before she turned her head back toward the window.