Page 49 of Wild Sanctuary

The truth is so much worse because I can’t fucking stop looking at her. I can’t stop noticing the way her lips part when she’s angry, or the way her throat moves when she swallows, or the fact that she’s standing close enough to kiss and the only thing between us is a fight I’m losing on every goddamn front.

“That’s not—” I stop. My back hits the edge of the desk. Nowhere left to retreat.

“It is.” She follows, closing the distance I keep trying to create. “So what is it? What did I do that was so terrible you can’t stand to be around me?”

“You didn’t do anythin’.”

“Then just answer the question, Wyatt. What the hell is your problem?”

“You.” The word rips out of me before I can stop it, low and raw and nothing like anger even though that’s what I need it to be. “You’re the problem.”

She blinks. Once. Like she’s absorbing a blow. “Wh—what?”

“You—” I drag a hand through my hair, my heart hammering against my ribs. She’s so close I can count every freckle dusting her nose. So close I can see the hurt blooming in her eyes, the confusion, the anger underneath. So close that my hand aches with the memory of hovering one inch from her shoulder in the barn, and every nerve I own is screaming to close the distance and find out if her skin is as soft as the heat between us promised. “You make it impossible to⁠—”

I stop and focus on clenching my jaw so hard my teeth ache.

“Impossible to what?” Her voice is barely a whisper.

The truth sits on my tongue, heavy and dangerous.

You make it impossible to think straight, Daisy Monroe. Impossible to breathe, let alone to keep my promise.

“To do my job.” The lie just about chokes me. “You’ve been underfoot all week. Asking questions. Getting in the way. Making everythin’ harder than it needs to be.”

The words hit exactly where I aimed them, and for a second, she just looks at me. Then her expression shutters, like a door I’ll never get back through.

“A distraction.” Her voice is flat. Cold. “That’s what I am to you.”

“I didn’t⁠—”

“No, I heard you.” She steps back, and the distance between us feels like a canyon opening up. “Loud and clear.”

“Daisy—”

A knock at the door cuts through the tension. June pokes her head in without waiting for an answer. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but Shelby’s askin’ again whether I can talk you into the bachelor auction. I told her no for the fifth time, but you know how she is.”

Daisy lets out a breath that’s almost a laugh. Almost.

“Well.” She grabs her notebook from the chair and turns to me. “Don’t let me get in the way.”

“Daisy—”

“No, really.” She grabs her notebook, and for just a second, her hands aren’t quite steady. Then her spine straightens, her voice levels out, and she’s walking toward the door. “I wouldn’t want to be a distraction.”

She’s gone before I can find the words to stop her.

June stares after her, then slowly turns to look at me. “What the hell did you do?”

“Nothin’.”

“That wasn’t nothin’.” She steps fully into the office, arms crossed. “That was Daisy Monroe leaving here like you just kicked her dog. What happened?”

“The interview didn’t go well.”

“No kidding.” June’s eyes narrow. “What did you say to her?”

“Drop it, June.”