Page 124 of Wilder

It was a welcomed cacophony to return back to.

Asher slowed beside me just before we reached the corner, his fingers twitching slightly against mine—still laced tight, but like he wasn’t sure whether to hold on tighter or let go altogether before we stepped foot into a room filled with our coworkers.

I immediately stopped walking, letting Sully continue ahead without us, and turned to face him fully. Lifting a hand to the side of his neck, I brushed a finger along his throat, catching the faint thrum of his pulse beneath my fingers.

There was a pinch in his expression, a tight pull at his mouth that made his lips press together into a line.

“Asher,” I said softly, dipping my head a little so he’d meet my gaze.

His eyes flicked up, wide and uncertain.

I leaned in close, just enough from him to hear me murmur, “I’m right here with you.”

He watched me for a beat, then nodded, small and tight. He took a breath, squared his shoulders, and tugged me along. We followed after where Sully had disappeared off to, around the corner into the dining room.

The second we stepped through the doorway, it was like someone hit pause on the entire space. Conversations cut off mid-sentence, forks hovered inches from mouths, heads turned—snapped, actually—in our direction like a ripple of electricity had just rolled through the room.

“You’re back!” Laken shouted, practically throwing his napkin onto his plate as he shoved away from the table and stood, face already splitting into a wide grin. “Holy shit, you’re actually⁠—”

A low whistle cut through the beat of silence.

“Well, well, well,” someone drawled from the far end of the table. “Do I spy, with my little eye, someone holding our boss’s hand?”

Another beat of silence swept through the room again.

Half the table leaned forward in unison, eyes narrowing in exaggerated squints while they took in the spot between Asher and I.

And there it was—my hand, still firmly laced with Asher’s.

Shit.

This was definitely not the way I wanted to announce things. No warning or quiet, private update between a few of them. Just the two of us waltzing into the loudest room on the ranch with our fingers intertwined like it hadn’t taken us weeks of heartache to get here.

The silence barely lasted a breath before Ryder leaned back in his chair with a smug, shit-eating grin. “Fork over the cash, fellas. Time to pay up Daddy.”

The table erupted into a groan loud enough to rival a clap of thunder in the summertime.

“Don’t ever call yourself that again,” Laken muttered, shoving a hand into his pocket and pulling out a well-worn leather wallet.

“Too late,” Ryder sing-songed, already swiping the first bill off the table that was slapped down in front of him, wiggling it in the air.

And then, one by one—including Dusty—they all pulled bills from their wallets and slapped them down in front of Ryder’s plate begrudgingly.

“What the hell is this?” Asher asked.

“Oh, you know,” Ryder replied, swiping the cash up into his hands and fanning out the bills in front of his face. “Just me winning the betting pool.”

“What betting pool,” Sully cut in, voice sharp as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Ryder didn’t even flinch. “Oh, come on. You think we didn’t notice? The looks? The tension? That day Asher tripped over a feed bucket because Wilder walked in wearing that flannel with the sleeves rolled up?”

Asher choked, “What?”

“We’ve been placing bets for weeks,” he said, fanning himself with the bills.

Asher blinked, still clearly trying to process the situation. “You guys seriously put money down on whether or not we’d end up together?”

“Technically, we put money down on when. Laken bet it wouldn’t happen until after the Fourth of July. Dallas thought y’all already were in a secret relationship and were just being dramatic about telling us. Dusty was just happy to be there.”