“Why?”
The question hangs between us, heavy and charged. He doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at me, his gaze so intense it feels like a physical touch.
His eyes drop from my eyes to my mouth, and the air in the booth suddenly feels thick, electric. I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks, a blush I can’t control.
“Because,” he says, in a low, rough murmur that sends a shiver down my spine, “if I knew you were leaving town… there’s almost nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you here.”
My breath catches. The world narrows to the space between us, to the raw, unguarded emotion on his face, to the way his lips form the words.
This is more than concern for the cattle. This is more than brotherly affection. This is something else entirely, something dangerous and thrilling and terrifying all at once.
I have to break the spell. I have to bring it back to something safe, something professional.
“Your cattle will be alright, Seth,” I say, my voice a little too high, a little too tight. “I promise. The samples will give us the answers we need.”
He shakes his head slowly, his eyes still locked on mine. “It’s not the cattle I’m worried about.”
And then he does it. He reaches across the table, and his thumb brushes over the back of my hand. The contact is light, almost incidental, but it sends a jolt through me that is anything but.
I’m static, a live wire, my entire body focused on that one small point of contact. The rough callus on his thumb against my skin, the warmth of his touch, the scent of him—wild clover and sweat and something uniquely Seth—fills my senses.
What is going on? What is he doing? What am I doing?
The sound of footsteps approaching the table breaks the spell like a splash of cold water. Seth pulls his hand back as if he’s been burned, and the moment is shattered. Clara slides back into the booth, cheerful and oblivious.
“What are we talking about?” she asks, her eyes bright with curiosity.
Seth doesn’t even miss a beat. He looks at Clara, then back at me, his expression shifting from raw vulnerability to a determined resolve.
“I’m talking about what I have to do to get Sedona to stay in town.”
I can’t help it. A small, watery smile touches my lips.
I’m tamping down a storm of emotions, a whirlwind of confusion and fear, and a tiny, treacherous flicker of something that feels dangerously like hope. I pick up my tea cup again, needing something to do with my hands.
“I still have to deal with my father’s estate,” I say, my voice a little more composed now. “I’ll probably leave again after that’s all settled.”
“The town needs you, Sedona,” he pleads. “And so do we.”
He means his brothers. He means the pack. He means him.
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat back with a vengeance.
He seems to sense my hesitation, my weakness. He leans forward.
“I’m glad you’re still around,” he says, and then a wry, almost sad smile touches his lips. “Just a heads up. The next time you see Tex or Billy, they might have bruises.”
“What?” I ask, completely confused. What does he mean?
He doesn’t elaborate. He just slides out of the booth, standing up and pulling a few bills from his wallet to leave on the table.
“I’ll be seeing you around, Dr. Archer,” he says.
Then he turns and walks away, leaving me staring after him, my tea cup trembling in my hand.
The moment he’s out the door, Clara lets out a squeal that’s so loud it makes a couple at the next table jump. She grabs my arm, her eyes wide and sparkling.
“What the hell was that?” she whisper-yells, her face a mask of pure, unadulterated glee.
