“Are you nervous about being around the animals?” Heath asks.
“Not so much being around them,” I admit, “just…working out there in general.”
“Don’t you worry,” he says with a reassuring smile. “The boys’ll show you the ropes. You’ll be good and ready before summer’s in full swing.”
Emmett grins and nods. I return the gesture, though my heart still beats unevenly from the eyes burning into me from across the table.
Then Wesley sighs, loud enough to make all of us glance up. He shoves his chair back, grabs his empty plate, and drops it into the sink with a clatter before disappearing out the back door.
I press my lips together, trying not to let it get to me. I really am. But it’s hard not to feel the sting of it—his silence, his moods, the way he can’t seem to decide what he wants.
“Don’t worry about him,” Emmett says quietly. “He’s always a dick. It’s not you.”
I nod, managing a faint smile. It helps, a little. But still—the thought of spending the whole summer walking on eggshells around Wesley makes my stomach twist.
After dinner, Heath and Emmett slip out to do a final check on part of the fencing, while I clear the table and start working on the dishes.
I still can’t get over Wesley storming out in the middle of dinner. He is being so childish.
But at least he had the decency to put his plate in the sink before going to sulk in his truck, or wherever he ran off to.
I don’t know why I’m letting his behavior bother me.
When summer is over, I’ll leave and his little tantrums won’t matter anymore.
I look down at the plate I’ve been scrubbing a little too hard. A frustrated groan slips out. Wesley does not deserve to take up space in my thoughts.
I force myself to think about something else—like Mia and Tori coming to visit.
Tori’s been on a full-blown cowboy kick ever since that one Glen Powell movie, and the thought of her here, flirting with Emmett and Wesley, twists something deep in my stomach. I’ve always had a vivid imagination and I can’t shake the image of her giggling in the back of some pickup truck, a mess of sweaty tangled limbs.
A hand presses suddenly to the small of my back as a glass drops into the sink beside me.
“Oh my God.” My hand flies to my chest as I whirl around—and find myself looking straight into a pair of dark, amber eyes. “You scared the fuck out of me!”
He stands there, faint amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Un-fucking-believable.
I turn back to the sink, trying to steady my breathing, because of course—of course—Wesley would conveniently show up the moment I’m deep in thought about him.
The soft sound of his breathy chuckle pushes me over the edge. My palms slam against the edge of the farmhouse sink as I spin back around, arms crossing tightly over my chest.
“What is your problem with me?”
He leans back against the counter, fingers curling around the edge, his gaze dark and unreadable.
“Who said I have a problem with you?”
I pause, caught off guard. It’s the first time he’s said more than two words to me.
“Seems pretty obvious to me.”
The muscles in his jaw tense and red hot anger rages through my entire body, licking beneath my skin.
Ihatethat he gets this kind of reaction out of me. I didn’t ask to be here—hemustknow that. So why does he act like I’ve personally offended him by simply existing?
“How about this,” I bite out. “I stay out of your way, you stay out of mine. Emmett can teach me everything I need to know, and you can continue your sulking all by yourself.”
