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“Damn it, Eryn,” I muttered under my breath knowing she was right but hating it anyway. She was under my skin now but I had no clue how to admit it. How to move forward.
She waited a moment for me to say something. Anything. But I was conflicted and stuck and ruining everything.
She shook her head in exasperation, and maybe a little disappointment.
I wanted to reach out to her. To kiss her again. To claim her in every way I could. Taste her skin, sink inside her, make her come on my cock so I knew what she felt like when I brought her to ecstasy.
Instead, I watched her turn and walk away, despite every fiber of my being urging me to follow.
She was right. I was being unfair. So instead of chasing her, pleading with her to give me a chance, I stood cold outside the back of The Dusty Barrel, feeling like I’d just been struck by lightning.
Maybe I had.
14
Eryn
I hate Gray Anderson.
It was the main thought running through my head the past two weeks as I said goodbye to my friends, as I closed on the property, as I moved out of the rental.
Even still, as I pushed open the heavy door of the quaint town hall, the thought burrowed in my head. The sound of my boots echoed against the tiled floor as I made my way inside, reminding me I had more important things to handle. My heart raced with a cocktail of nerves and excitement—it was time to officially submit my application for the business license. The papers felt like a promise in my hands.
“Morning, Eryn,” greeted Martha, the clerk behind the counter, her eyes crinkling with a smile. I’d met her at Mason’s barbecue and she’d shown off the most adorable photos of her baby grandson.
“Good morning,” I replied. “How’s baby Benji doing?”
“Oh, that boy is eating us out of house and home. He started solids last week, you’d think he’s been eating bananas since the womb.” She laughed and shook her head with affection. “So how can I help you today?”
“It’s an exciting day,” I said, my tone laced with the thrill of what I was about to do. “I'm here to turn in my application for the business license.”
“Ooh that is exciting. Let's take a look,” she said, taking the documents from me with a flourish. As she perused them, I imagined the future: yoga at sunrise, the smell of fresh lavender in bloom, and the laughter of guests finding peace on my land.
“Everything seems to be in order,” Martha began, but then her smile flickered, replaced by a line of concern. “However, there's been a small hiccup. It looks like we have an objection from a citizen. Because of the zoning situation, that means, your application will need to go before the city council.”
My stomach dropped, a stone sinking in a still pond. “An objection?” I echoed, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.
“Unfortunately, yes. But don't you worry too much, dear. This is a formality sometimes. We'll schedule a hearing, and you'll have a chance to present your case.” Martha offered an encouraging nod.
“Thank you, Martha,” I said, mustering the brightest smile I could manage. “I'll be ready.”
* * *
“Afternoon, Eryn,” a voice drawled from behind me as I walked down Main Street—a voice that was all honey and mischief rolled into one.
I turned to find Billy Myers leaning against the wooden railing outside the hardware store, his hat tipped back revealing a mess of sandy hair and eyes as green as new spring leaves. His smile was a little too charming. And after I’d heard what he’d said the other night, I knew I’d be keeping him at arm’s length.
Still, I didn’t want to create any enemies in my new town, so I begrudgingly stopped to chat.
“Hey, Billy,” I greeted, forcing the corners of my mouth to lift in response. “How's life treating you?”
“Can't complain,” he said, pushing off from the railing and sauntering over. He had that cowboy walk, all confidence and long strides—the kind that kicked up dust and demanded attention. “And how about you? Settling into the Culver place alright?”
“Slowly but surely.”
“Bet Gray Anderson's none too pleased about it, though.” The remark came out veiled in casualness, but there was an edge to it, sharp enough to snag the fabric of our light conversation.
My brow furrowed slightly, the mention of Gray sending a jolt through me—not entirely unpleasant, but unexpected. I hadn't realized that the undercurrents of tension between him and me over the land were common knowledge.
