Page 53

Three weeks ago, I would’ve said hell fucking no to tying myself down to a man and a single location. But in this moment, watching them practically radiate with love and excitement for their future, I’d give almost anything to have what they have.

I can’t help but shift my gaze to Chace. He’s still barefoot in loose sweatpants, his hair mussed from lying down, that dazzling smile lighting up his face as he listens to Hazel’s story. It’s utterly unfair how good-looking he is. He catches my gaze, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly. Our unfinished conversation is still lingering between us, unspoken, even with my brother and Hazel sitting right here.

This isn’t over, Sunshine.

I quickly look away, suddenly flustered, and push myself to my feet, running my hands down my jeans as I stand. “Well, I ought to get to Dusty. He’s going to be pissed I’m so late.”

Hazel smiles. “Oh, of course. Can’t have an angry horse just a few days before your run. Go tend him.” She stands. “Need any help?”

“No. You’re on vacation. Drink your coffee. Relax. I’ll be back later.”

“Wait, before you go,” Eli says, looking between Chace and me. “I wanted to talk to both of you.”

Fuck. He knows. How could he know? I can’t help the moment of panic that zings through me. It’s not that my brother gets to dictate my love life, or that I would ever let him. But this is Chace, and I’m not naive enough to pretend big brothers don’t have a no-touching-my-sister clause with their friends—especially their best friend. I glance at Chace, but of course, he’s unreadable. That easy, cool, I’m completely unbothered by life expression is plastered across his face.

“Hazel and I are going to head into town to grab some supplies we need to camp out here for the rest of the week. Then I thought we could meet up for dinner tonight. Maybe make a night of it and grab some drinks.”

Oh my God. I was totally overreacting. Of course he doesn’t know about Chace and me. In fact, there is no Chace and me. Man, I really need to get out of here and get my head straight. “Sounds great, big bro.” With that, I turn on my heels and head down the dirt road towards the stables. I need to talk to Dusty.

When I walk into the stables, the scent of horses, hay, and leather instantly settles my nerves. At least a little, anyway. It’s safe here. My happy place has always been alone in a barn with nothing but me and my horse. I get some of my best thinking done while working with Dusty.

Dusty’s head pops up over the stall door when he hears me approach, giving me a look that says, About friggin’ time you showed up.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I chide. “It’s not even eight a.m. yet. I have a life too, you know.”

That’s a sobering thought, because until very recently, Dusty was my life. How have my priorities shifted so much in just the last two days? I don’t even want to examine what that means.

“You make bad decisions too, you know. It’s not just me,” I remind him. “You refused to back out of the trailer the other day because you caught sight of a plastic bag blowing by. So you can’t judge me for one questionable night with our enemy.”

He snorts and nudges against me, savoring the attention.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” I let myself into the stall and press my forehead against his neck for a second, breathing in the familiar scent of him before I pull out my brushes and get to work.

I’m fully in the zone, cleaning and tending to Dusty, when the stall door opens behind me.

“You never answered me earlier.”

I turn to find Chace leaning against the now-closed door, cool and composed, a small smile playing on his lips. For some reason, the smile seems flat today, like he’s trying a little too hard to come off as cocky instead of actually feeling it.

When did I start noticing the difference in his smiles?

I toss the brush down and walk toward him. I guess he decided to chase me down and finish our conversation. There’s no avoiding it now, so I decide to be honest. “No, I don’t regret it.” Not in the ways he thinks, anyway.

I catch the almost imperceptible drop of his shoulders, like he’d been holding his breath, unsure of what I might say and dreading the answer.

That’s new too. Chace Walker, unsure of himself?

He takes two steps, closing the distance between us with his long strides. I look up at him, still expecting my admission to go straight to his head, waiting for the grin or some cocky comment about how he knew I wouldn’t regret it. Instead, when he reaches me, his fingers brush gently against my wrist before trailing slowly up my arm to the bend of my elbow. The touch is light, almost careful. There’s no grin in sight.

His eyes meet mine, and for a fraction of a second, I think he’s going to kiss me. And God help me, I’ll let him, because even these affectionate caresses are doing things to me I can’t explain.

Instead, he brushes a loose strand of hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear. Then he leans down, and my breath catches. This is it. He’s going to kiss me.

But he moves past my mouth and presses a kiss to my cheek. Small and sweet, not sexual in any way, but somehow it does things to my nervous system I wasn’t prepared for.

He lingers there for just a second, his mouth warm against my skin, before he whispers, “I’m sorry, Addie. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

My hand comes up and settles against his broad chest, and I can feel his heart beating a million miles a minute beneath my palm. At least I know he feels this electric pull between us as much as I do. I let myself savor the moment before I finally pull back and look up at him, reminding myself that I’m still angry. That as much as I want this, Chace is still keeping something from me. "You can’t do that."