Page 43 of Saddle Storm

She licks her lips, eyes dropping to the ground as if fighting a painful memory. “I’m late for work.”

14

Seconds.

That’s how long I was from telling Storm that her little crush on me was nothing compared to the longing I had to have my best friend back all those years ago.

That I’d have given up all the friends I had in high school for one more summer with her. Even if we were too old to jump fences and steal fireworks.

Tell her about the anger I had to bite back because Dad asked me to respect Mr. Dalton’s wishes and stay away from his daughter.

You’ll have more friends and girls lining up for you than anyone in town. It’s not worth the fight.

I was living a modern-day Romeo and Juliet.

Bringing Tom into this now wouldn’t do anyone any good. I know better than to force things, especially with spite. I have something most people don’t, patience . . . and charm.

Except when it comes to my brothers.

I step into the Saddle Room, my mood suddenly shifting when I find Rose leaning over Wilder’s chair in a deep kiss.

I grin and clear my throat but they don’t stop right away.

Okay, I can respect that. Still pretty awkward though. “Should I come back?”

Rose wipes at her bottom lip. “No, I’m done. Just reminding your brother here how good coffee can taste if you just have an open mind.”

He gives her a look and pushes the iced coffee aside. “Still not convinced.”

She glances back. “Don’t make me come back there.” Then sighs, turning back to me. “I need to go prep the cottage for the afternoon class. See you both later.”

I nod and pick up Wilder’s abandoned beverage. “I need to talk to you about Storm,” I say as soon as the door closes.

Wilder points to the chair across his desk. “Have a seat.”

I eye it suspiciously. “You and Rose don’t do any funny business on this chair do you?”

“What do you think we are, bunch of teenagers?” Then winks. “We use the desk.”

My eyes drop to it briefly before I sit down. “When’s her day off?”

“Rose?”

“Storm.”

“Oh. She’s off Sundays.”

“Then what the hell was she doing here all day yesterday?”

“Right,” he exhales. “Dallas asked her to come in to prep the ponies for the ceremony. It was supposed to be two, three hours max, but I guess it took a little longer.”

“Then she’s owed another day,” I snap.

“Silas, what do you want from me? We’re paying her double for coming in on her day off. Dallas ran it by me and we’re good.”

“Great. But that doesn’t change the fact that she still needs a day off—maybe two. Time to rest, to spend with her kid, or whatever.”

He narrows his eyes at me, a hint of a grin playing on his face. Then he sits up, licking his lips as he scans the schedule on his desk. “Friday, maybe?” He looks up, finding me glaring at him. “Tomorrow?”