Page 41 of Wilder

Maybe that was my fault for getting used to having him around me so often.

I’d been trying not to make a habit of hanging around his usual haunts, to keep my hovering to a minimum no matter how often I found myself unconsciously wandering toward the back paddock or last set of stalls.

Bad habits were hard to kick. Even worse when it was becoming more obvious as the weeks went on how none of those urges had died down at all since he first came to me. If anything, they’d only gotten worse. I had hoped once winter hit, I’d finally have the time to focus that energy into something more productive but yet again, I’d proven myself a damn fool.

“If that’s the case, I’d love to hear the stories. I can’t imagine someone straight-laced like you would get into any sort of trouble.”

I frowned.

Straight-laced?

For some reason, that hit my pride a little harder than it probably should have.

I was never some wild child, sure, never had been in all my years on this Earth, but I still knew how to have fun.

My younger years were normal. Heading into town after wrapping up the day, winding down with a drink or two at the bar, maybe heading home for the night with someone if I was feeling up for stumbling back to the ranch right before the start of morning chores the next day.

I wasn’t straight-laced. Not some stiff, rule-following, boring rancher who didn’t know the meaning of letting loose and having a little fun.

I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth.

Lord...

Why the hell was I letting a nineteen-year-old’s comment get under my skin like this?

Why did I care what he thought?

I had no reason to impress him. No reason to feel the urge to correct him because I shouldn’t be wanting him to find me interesting to begin with.

He was off-limits. Period.

“Uh-oh,” he said.

I frowned. “What?”

“You got offended.” His tone was a little sing-song-y. Teasing me in that signature Asher way of his. Gone from this conversation not even five minutes ago, but now back in full force.

I felt my face grow hot. “I didn’t.”

“Mhmm... You know, you only get that quiet when you’re either thinking about something really hard, or when I’ve said something that annoyed you.”

I held back a sigh.

Some days, it really impressed me the way Asher could read me so easily. Other days, it scared the hell out of me.

Because what the hell was a nineteen-year-old kid doing wasting his youth mucking stalls and pushing out hay bales when he could be flying through college with the kind of smarts he had, getting some high-paying job at some fancy law firm in the city, or doing whatever else it was that intellectuals like him dreamed of?

Instead, he was here with me at my family’s ranch, being a goddamn horse whisperer.

I rubbed a hand over my face.

Lately, those were the kind of thoughts keeping me up at night, making me toss and turn until the sky outside my bedroom window shifted from black to a faded yellow from the rising sun. I had no idea what I was going to do when he eventually realized he was meant for things greater than Boone Ranch. What it would mean for me to force myself to let him go just like I did when that cab had pulled up to whisk him away to the airport for his flight back to Baton Rouge.

For one fleeting second, I’d hesitated. Had every intention of calling him back to tell him we needed him to stay—that I did—and apologize for getting his hopes up about leaving to see his family before quietly slipping his bag from his shoulder and taking him back up to the bunkhouse where he belonged.

My feelings were selfish, I knew. As much as I hated to admit to myself, it had been hard letting him go. And that was after he’d promised me up and down he’d be back once New Year’s rolled around.

What was going to happen when he left for good?