“Oh, but it is.” Widening my eyes, I took a long gulp of my drink, wishing it were something stronger. “I asked her, and she responded with silence. I quit pageants when I was thirteen. I hated everything about it. Well…that’s a lie. I loved the horsemanship—”
“Obviously.” Wyatt opened his palms with his comment, a grin flashing across his lips.
I couldn’t help but smile back, my stomach doing a little flip.
“Obviously,” I repeated, mimicking his gesture. “I went to work at a stable. I worked my ass off. I saved every penny I made and bought Hook on my own when I was seventeen. I started racing with him and bought Charming three years later. She wasn’t proud of my work at the stables; she wasn’t impressed that I bought my own horse. She couldn’t care less when I signed up for my first rodeo. She has never gone to my rides on purpose, and she doesn’t call with congrats or send inspiring text messages. She appears with the rodeo queen she coaches, and even then, it’s by accident that we run into each other. The only way my mother would have supported my life choices is if I went down the exact path she did.
“But obviously…” I raised my brow at him, loving the smirk he gave me. “I didn’t, so therefore, I’m her biggestdisappointment. And if I’m being honest, that’s not even the tip of the iceberg when it comes to her.”
“You’re the furthest thing from a disappointment,” he replied softly. “If she can’t see that—”
“Are you going to say she’s not worth it? Didn’t your parents support you no matter what?” I cocked my head and glared at him. His eyebrows rose as he blinked a few times. I straightened my posture. “Sorry, that came out meaner than I meant it.”
“No, it’s okay. They were supportive in their own way.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, they didn’t support me when I decided to streak down Main Street.”
“There’s a story there.”
“There is, but…” He shifted. “For another day.” He stood and walked around the counter. “My parents were proud of me even if I made decisions they didn’t care for, so I can’t imagine how you feel when it comes to your mom, but I hope you know you have support now. Cash, Abi, Kyla…me.” He faced me, his palm resting on the counter as he lowered his chin to look at me, those blue eyes boring into me again. His voice lowered. “Maybe someday she’ll see how phenomenal you are, until then”—he reached up, his fingers lighting brushing my hair from my shoulder, the touch from his knuckles grazing across my skin, creating a sizzle that was hard to ignore—“you have me to remind you.”
Did he know what he was doing to me at this moment? My breath hitched, and my heart rate began to pound as I stared into his eyes. I could still feel the path his fingers took against my bare shoulder when he moved my hair. I could hear his breath; I could practically feel his heartbeat against my chest even though we were still inches apart.
“I’ll always remind you how perfect I think you are.”
Oh God…
Months ago, if Wyatt had said that to me, I would have thrown a comeback or something his way. Knock him off his high horse and tell him to get some mud on his boots. But now…after spending countless hours with him, laughing, talking, feeling him against me with every hug he offered…learning who he truly was…
My knees went a little weak.
And with the way he was looking at me, I could tell he wanted to kiss me. His eyes trailed from mine, to my lips, to my neck, to my hair…before they settled back on my lips. Desire flooded through him and into me, and I could feel the heat, so palpable I could almost taste it.
“Absolutely perfect.” He sighed, his voice breathy as he locked eyes with me again.
He leaned ever so slightly to me—a breath away from me…when a ping came from his pocket, then another and another.
The moment gone, I quickly stepped back, picking up my glass of ginger ale and gulping it down as fast as I could. Thank God—or whoever was watching—that someone had demanded Wyatt’s attention because as much as my knees were shaking…I could not have just almost kissed Wyatt.
After my glass was empty, I looked back at him, still frozen in the same spot, his concentration on his phone.
“What is it?” I asked, my voice raspy from chugging an entire twelve ounces of ginger ale in one gulp.
Wyatt bit the inside of his lip. “Nothing.” His phone made the locking sound before he set it on the counter and slid it down by mine. It hit my phone with a thump before they both sat still on the counter. He heaved a sigh. “Ready to watch an episode?”
His smile was gone. The glint in his eye that was there just seconds before had faded.
I nodded. “Yeah. I think you meet a very pivotal character tonight.”
His smile returned, but it wasn’t the smile I had grown to know. There was something behind it.
“I sure hope it starts with an H and ends with an ook.” He pushed himself off the counter and made his way to the living room.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?”
“Yeah, but…” He groaned as he sat down on the couch. “You enjoy having me around. Just admit it. I’m a joy.”
I licked my lips and sat down next to him, close enough that my knees rested against his thighs. He could pull me into his side at this point in time, and I wouldn’t care. I would welcome his touch, his warmth, his scent. I did enjoy having him around. I wanted him around. I wanted all of—
Nope…not that far yet.
