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She was always pretty growing up, but over the years, I’ve watched her petite young frame progressively blossom into one of a beautiful woman. Her once skinny figure has filled out with succulent curves, perky breasts, and lean legs that look as though they were made for the sole purpose of being wrapped tightly around my waist.
She’s exquisite.
Wyatt takes the order off the spike and slides it across the counter with a look of pure disgust pointed directly at me.
“I know, okay?” I say to him, acknowledging my epic fuckup and taking the slip, then attaching it to the ticket holder above the stove.
Ignoring the feel of his eyes drilling holes into my back, I read over the next order and then proceed to collect the ingredients I need, the tension in the kitchen so palpable you could cut through it with a knife.
“This game you two have been playing was funny at first, but not only is this shit getting old, but it’s going way too far,” he finally says after a stretch of weighted silence, making me grimace as another pang of guilt rips through my chest.
“I know,” I reply solemnly with a long sigh, then crack two eggs onto the pan while keeping my back to him, hoping to distract myself from my inner turmoil by keeping myself busy.
“Why don’t you just cut the crap and tell her, man?”
My body stills.
In all the years that I’ve been friends with Wyatt, this is the first time he’s ever called me out on my idiocy when it comes to Mac. We’ve been friends our whole lives, and he always did have this uncanny knack for being able to read me like a book. But for some reason, when it came to the games I’d been playing with Mac, he’d always remained tight-lipped, leaving me to assume that perhaps my reasons for it weren’t transparent enough to see.
Any outsider looking in would automatically think that we hated each other, and I have no doubt that Mac hates me with everything she’s got.
However, the feeling for me is far from mutual. But self-preservation has made me do everything possible to mask my true feelings, and I thought I was doing a pretty stellar job of it.
Until now.
“Tell her what?” I ask, hoping to somehow salvage the secret I’ve kept hidden since the day I finally realized what that fluttery feeling was in my stomach whenever I saw her.
“You know what,” he answers with conviction, and my shoulders slump with defeat.
Yeah, I do. But how do you confess your feelings to someone who’s spent their whole life hating your guts? It would be suicide. Not only would she not believe me, but she would most likely string me up, rip my heart out and then stomp all over it, just like she did unknowingly all those years ago.
Hoping to end this conversation before it goes any further, I plate up a serving of bacon and eggs, then slide them across the island counter toward Wyatt. “Can you add two slices of white toast to that?”
He stares at me for a beat before shaking his head and taking the plate. “Yeah, sure.”
Feeling the tension from my shoulders ease slightly that my attempts at redirecting our conversation have worked, I turn back around and continue working.
“Noah Campbell was in here yesterday,” Wyatt throws in, and the tension immediately returns in full force, making my back go ramrod straight at the mere mention of his name.
Noah fucking Campbell.
The rodeo cowboy whose presence in town is enough to set off a chain reaction of spontaneous orgasms from every able-bodied woman who catches sight of him walking down the street.
His family owns a cattle ranch on the outskirts of town, and with his rugged good looks and the two NFR wins under his belt for steer wrestling, the guy is practically a celebrity around here.
Every single time the bastard comes waltzing into town, the women seem to lose their ever-loving minds, and I haven’t failed to notice that even Mac isn’t immune to the allure of his wholesome country boy charm.
“And?” I ask, gritting my teeth and fighting back the urge to snarl like a rabid dog.
“He sure does like Mackenzie, doesn’t he?” he continues, the mocking ring to his making my jaw clench so hard that I’m surprised I haven’t crushed my molars.
Even though Wyatt is goading me, every word coming out of his mouth speaks the truth. Ever since Noah broke up with his girlfriend three months ago, he’s been sniffing around here more often than not. And it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the scent that captured his attention is Mac’s.
He played it off at first, coming in almost every second day under the guise of liking our famous chili and corn bread. But I never bought it for a second.
I’ve seen the way he looks at her. It’s the same way I do, but unfortunately, she looks at him the same way back; always blushing profusely whenever he flashes her one of hisso-calleddazzling smiles.
Stupid prick.
