My heart stutters as he swings over the fence, shirt long gone, golden skin slick with sweat and catching the last fire of the sun. It’s unfair how effortlessly good-looking he is.
He settles down next to me, sighing deeply as he drops his head back against the fence boards.
I don’t know what I was thinking. Clearly, I’ve lost my fucking mind. How am I supposed to act like nothing is happening between us?
“Hi, Wes,” Landon says in a sarcastic tone. “I’m doing great, thanks for asking.” He shifts onto his feet, brushing the dirt off his jeans.
“Youare on my shit list today,” Wesley says, pointing his finger at Landon. He rolls his eyes, winking at me before heading back down the path to the lodge—leaving me completely alone with Wesley.
I don’t know what to say.
I don’t know how to be casual, and if he sees me spiraling, he’ll probably want to call the whole thing off. I wish I could talk to Lydia about it, but I know she will just say she was right all along and it was only a matter of time or something.
I shift, crossing and uncrossing my legs and wanting to punch myself in the face for not being able to act like a normal human being.
“You know,usuallywhen someone says ‘hey,’ the polite thing to do is say it back,” he says with a smirk. “Just for future reference.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I deadpan. “I’ll be sure to implement that next time.”
He lets out a deep, warm laugh, and against my better judgment, I finally glance over. His amber eyes are already waiting for me.
Shit.
I clear my throat, pulling at the frayed threads of my nonexistent courage and willing myself not to look away.
The sunset highlights the golden flecks in his eyes and I can feel all of my self-control slipping away piece by piece. It’s taking everything I have not to give into temptation and lose myself in him right here. But anyone could walk by, and I’m notthatreckless. I lick my lips and his eyes immediately drop to my mouth.
“Hey, Wesley,” I whisper.
He releases a frustrated groan that sounds almost like a growl before tearing his eyes away and running his hands through his hair. I can’t hide the satisfaction of knowing I affect him just as much as he does me.
“Don’t go,” Wesley says, looking at me again.
My eyebrows pull together. “What do you mean?”
“Tonight. Lucky’s. Don’t go.” His voice is soft, almost pleading.
“Why?”
“Stay here.”
“I—”
The sound of a truck pulling up interrupts us. I give my best attempt to calm my racing heart, feeling the implication of Wesley’s words.
Stay here.
A small, reckless part of me wishes he meant stay at the ranch—not just skip Lucky’s. Stay, instead of getting on that return flight.
But that would be insane.
This is temporary.
We have an expiration date.
It’s not forever.
“You guys done for the day?” Emmett asks, resting his forearm on the edge of the rolled-down window.
