Page 124 of Sunrise & Serenity

This should be a dream come true. The kind of opportunity I’ve wanted since college. Since before Graham.

The air rushes out of my lungs.

I should be ecstatic. I should want to scream the news from the rooftops. Instead, my thoughts go straight to Wild Ember—the ranch, the family.

Holden.

A confusing mix of excitement and something dangerously close to sadness floods through me as I stare at the glowing screen in my hand.

I have three weeks to accept before they offer it to someone else.

A few months ago, this would have been a no-brainer.

Now, I’m not so sure.

CHAPTER 32

HOLDEN

The second Sage walks into Silver Pony, I swear every man’s head turns.

Not subtly either. Actual heads lifting over beer bottles and pool cues.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter as Taryn and I follow her in.

Considering the amount of time we’ve spent together over the past few weeks, I would’ve expected my self-control around her to be better by now. But apparently, all the late nights on my porch, early mornings in my bed, and increasingly frequent family dinners where she chats and laughs with my dad and siblings have only made things worse.

And now every idiot in this bar who’s looking at her suddenly feels like a personal problem.

Taryn glances sideways at me. “What?”

“Nothing.”

But hell, maybe agreeing to another night out was a mistake.

Sage’s dark hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, catching the low amber light from the bar as it cascades down her spine. Her denim shorts cup her ass and leave way too much bare skin on display, while her little lace-up top stops just above the waistband.

I’m starting to think she dressed that way to test my self-control.

At the bar, Allie points at me. “Look who came back voluntarily.”

I force a smile and dip my chin.

She shakes her head with a little grin, then turns to Sage. “Nice to see another repeat customer.”

“Your mojitos are convincing,” Sage says.

Allie laughs. “Damn right they are.”

A couple of guys squeeze in next to Sage, and instinct takes over before I can stop it, my hand finding its way to the small of her back, guiding her closer to me. The sliver of warm skin against my palm tempts me to glide my fingers beneath the hem of her top.

She goes still for half a second, lips parting, eyes flicking to mine.

My pulse kicks up, and I drop my hand before anybody catches it lingering there.

“So mojitos for you ladies,” Allie says, then points at the rest of us. “Beer?”

Chance leans against the bar beside me. “Whatever’s on tap.”