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Hell, now we’ll never know.
After I get dressed in the bathroom and come back into the room, Riley’s in front of me apologizing because his flight leaves in an hour and they’re expected at work tomorrow. My sister is probably wondering where the hell I am too, though I know she wouldn’t get on that plane to Phoenix without me. As much as I want us to have more time, I know it’s not possible.
When he tells me to come to Texas with him and I explain why I can’t, the thought saddens me. Part of me wishes I could while the other wonders how crazy we must be to even consider it after only twenty-four hours together.
Diesel is on Riley’s ass, rushing him out the door. We have a few seconds to talk before he texts me his address and kisses my cheek.
“For what it’s worth, I had a really fun night, wife.”
The way he says wife sends a hot shiver down my spine.
“Safe flight, hubby,” I retort.
Diesel has the door open and shouts for him again, irritation written all over his face.
“Goodbye,” I say as he walks away.
He gives me one final look before he’s gone for good, and I’m not sure I truly understand the mild heartache that rushes over me.
Chapter Seven
Riley
FOUR WEEKS LATER
Texas in the middle of June is hot as fuck. I rip off my shirt and chug half my water before putting my gloves back on and stacking more hay on the trailer. The main barn needs to be restocked, and that bitch work was assigned to Diesel and me today.
“Cheer up, buttercup! I know what’ll make ya smile.” He holds up a finger, and I roll my eyes.
Ignoring him, I keep working and tossing bales. Then his phone starts playing music.
“Meghan Trainor always makes me happy.” Diesel flashes a shit-eating grin as “All About That Bass” blasts from his iPhone.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter and grunt, shaking my head at him when he starts moving his ass to that ancient song. Ever since I was served annulment papers two weeks ago, he’s been more obnoxious than usual, which is saying a lot.
“Oh, come on,” he huffs. “Not even a little grin?” Diesel pops a brow, and I shrug.
“Can you get back to work now? I’m not getting paid to do your half.” I throw a bale with more force than necessary.
I haven’t been able to get Zoey out of my head since we left Vegas, and it’s been no secret. I fucking hated that I left in a rush but was hopeful I’d hear from her after Summer’s wedding. I knew she’d be busy with all the festivities, but then I received the surprise of a lifetime when the sheriff showed up at my house. With a frown on his face, it was obvious he knew what he was delivering. I had to beg him not to tell my mama because news travels fast in this small town. I could’ve messaged Zoey—hell, I was tempted after drinking too much that night—but I didn’t. She made her decision, and I couldn’t blame her. We barely knew each other, lived two completely different lives, and there was no reason to delay the inevitable.
I signed the papers and sent them back the next day.
“I have a whole playlist for you.” Diesel keeps talking. “Fifth Harmony is next. Damn, those ladies can shake it.”
“Am I supposed to know who any of these people are?”
Diesel gasps. Literally gasps.
Now that causes me to smile. Such a damn drama queen.
“You’ve been hanging around my little cousins too much. Or my sister.” I turn and glare at him. His eyes widen as if he’s just been caught. “Which one is it?” I pop a brow.
“Uh, which one gets me in less trouble?”
“Asshole,” I mutter before turning back to the hay.
When we’re done for the afternoon, we take the side-by-side to the B&B for a break. As we walk up the porch, I’m ready to punch Diesel because he never stops talking. I know he thinks it’ll distract me, but it only pisses me off more. I shove him before walking through the front door. While my uncle John is probably at the family bar in town, there’s usually a Bishop in here somewhere, so I try to be on my best behavior once inside.
Diesel groans when we spot Fisher in the kitchen. “’Sup?” he asks, making himself a plate of muffins and cookies. “Hay all done?”
“Would we be in here if it wasn’t?” Diesel says before I can respond. “Maybe you should’ve helped us for once, or are you too afraid of getting your city boy clothes dirty?”
“Actually, I’ve been on the phone all morning calling in orders and making sure the ranch has everything it needs for the rest of the summer, but if you think you’re more qualified to take care of finances and inventory, be my guest,” Fisher answers smoothly. “I’m sure I could handle moving around some hay. I’d even do it without whining too.”
