Page 51 of Seein’ Red

Willa scoffs. “I’m nothing like Rosamund Pike in Gone Girl. She was flat-out unhinged.”

I step back, eyeing her up and down. Fuck, is she cute like this. Good enough to eat even. The devil on my shoulder wants to take her right back to bed and do just that. The angel on the other side, though, reminds me that this is not the time. Especially since I just compared her to an exceptionally volatile fictional personality.

“Errr…okay, maybe not her, but…what’s that show about the ranch family that basically has the state of Wyoming in a choke hold with its dynasty?”

“High Hawk?”

“Yeah, that. The chick from that show.”

“I am nothing like Nichole Raymond either!”

“You kinda are.” I toss the comment over my shoulder, making my way into the kitchen to see what I can piece together for a meal. “You’re not nearly as crazy as she is, or mean—at least most of the time you’re not—but you definitely have the same busted give a damn and assumption of power. Maybe it’s the only girl with a bunch of brothers, born into an empire kind of thing. But you definitely resemble her at times.”

Willa laughs, shaking her head. “I’ll give you that. She is kinda my idol.”

Now that worries me…

Willa chuckles again, walking over to the couch and curling up on it. I continue my search, coming up very empty-handed.

“You have nothing in this house,” I declare.

“I didn’t go shopping this week. Wasn’t sure how much I would actually be home and didn’t want anything to go to waste.”

“Gotcha.” Joining her on the couch, I dig my phone out from between the cushions. “Happy to call the Slice, but I know how you get about people knowing I’m here.”

“Sometimes I wonder how much town gossip the poor kid delivering for Little Slice of Heaven knows and just doesn’t realize it because he’s fifteen years old and it doesn’t occur to him that what he’s seeing is juicy.”

“Oh, I bet he could tell tales. We should maybe start watching out for him, make sure Mrs. Burch and Mrs. Chamberlain don’t get to him.”

A silent chuckle is all I get in return, paired with a minuscule upturn of her lips. My insides twist, wishing there was a way I could snap my fingers and get us back to the way we were a week ago. Granted, if it were that easy, I would snap my fingers and get us back to where we were before I fucked up.

Which is part of why I’m here. I need to get something off my chest.

“Willa, I⁠—”

“I’m scared.”

The words tumble out of her so fast it takes me a moment to realize what she’s saying.

“Me too.”

“This is not how I planned for this to happen. Not that I was planning this kind of thing, but…you know.”

“I do. And, it’s not how I saw this going either.”

I saw us married first…

“I…I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, you’ve come to the wrong man if you’re looking for a plan,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “Because if I’m ever the voice of reason, we’re screwed.”

She gives me a playful shove, shaking her head. Most importantly, her smile is back. Her real smile. The one that could light up this entire town. The one that keeps me up at night.

“Kinda what I’m worried about,” she teases.

“Here’s what I do know. I’m in this. All in.” I suck in a breath, trying to find the courage to say it all. Shifting on the couch so I’m facing her, I grab her hand, interlacing my fingers with hers. “Wills, I owe you an apology. What I said back when we were teens, I shouldn’t have…and⁠—”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”