Page 106 of Wilder

Lord help me, if he even suspected Asher was still upstairs in my bed, I was about to be in for the longest, most uncomfortable conversation of my life.

I blew out a breath. “Why’re you here, Sully?”

Him showing up here unannounced, cooking breakfast in my kitchen with no emergency like we hadn’t just spent the last two weeks keeping our distance, felt too strange. I got not wanting to talk about it and leave it as water under the bridge, but this whole thing felt too easy-going.

He glanced at me again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You seemed bent out of shape about something yesterday. Figured I’d come by and check on you. And... talk.”

I hoped he didn’t notice my hand shaking as I grabbed the handle of the coffee pot when I lifted it off the burner and tipped it to pour him a cup. “Talk about what?”

“Well, seems we’ve been at odds recently. I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t pissed at you for any reason.”

That had me pausing again.

I glanced at him, the corners of my mouth twitching down despite myself. This wasn’t where I thought this conversation was going at all.

Coming here to talk shop, sure.

Accuse me of having one of our ranch hands occupying my bed?

Shocking but not unexpected.

But not this.

When I stayed quiet, he went on. “I get that I’m harsh on you sometimes, Wilder. But it’s never been because I don’t trust you or your judgment, or because I think you can’t handle things. I only want to make sure you’ve got your head on straight, that’s all. Your daddy was always worried about you—more than he liked to let on. And well... I guess that got passed down to me when he passed.”

Guilt twisted in my gut. “I’m a grown man, Sully. I don’t need a babysitter.”

He sighed. “I know.”

I tipped the coffee pot to pour the rest of it into the other two mugs. Steam billowed up from the rims, ghosting around my hand as I set the pot back onto the burner and grabbed the handle on one of them.

Sully’s voice cut in again, softer this time. “I don’t want us at odds, Wilder. You got a good head on your shoulders but you’re carrying too much weight on them lately. I see it and so does everyone else. We’re all worried about you.”

I tightened my hand around the handle.

This man had known me since I was young enough to run around barefoot chasing after my father, and who’d been there the day he’d been hauled onto a gurney and rushed to the nearest hospital. The one who’d held my Mama’s hand as the doctor delivered the most devastating news we’d ever heard.

He held this place together without any expectations of gratitude. I owed him a lot more than what I’d been giving him lately.

Honesty, at the very least.

I pulled in a slow breath, turning to him. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something, too.”

I had no idea how I was going to start this, least of all what his reaction would be. All I could hope for was that he let me finish before he laid into me with whatever lecture I’d be getting by the end of it.

Or telling me to send Asher home.

I didn’t want to think about that being a possibility, even if it was a strong one. I’d advocate for him, of course. I wouldn’t be bullied that easily into letting him go, but as co-owner of this business, Sully had as much of a say in it as I did.

We’d worked out well with that kind of partnership. I’d hate for it to sour over someone who’d caught my eye and my heart refused to let go of.

“Oh, you’re both here.” My Mama’s voice carried across the kitchen. “Mornin’.”

Sully’s eyes peeled away from mine. “Morning, Emily. You sleep well? I started breakfast, if you’re hungry.”

I blew out another breath, turning back to our coffees. Well, so much for coming clean in the moment.

Maybe this was the divine intervention I’d been counting on. Only, instead of it helping me sneak Asher out under my mother’s nose, it was coming in the form of her interrupting my admission of guilt.