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“Well, you kind of have. You told us you moved home because Luke was so busy… but yet here we are, four months later and he hasn’t been by once…”
I swallow. Bile rising in my throat and it burns.
“Let’s just say my life in LA wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.” My voice is quiet and I take a mouthful of my wine, and this time, I didn’t wince.
“Were you okay though?” she asks and I can hear the concern that laces her voice.
“Yeah,” I roll my lips, “I was, he never hurt me until the day I left, but he was a really good man and for what it’s worth, I did love him to some extent. Not as fiercely as I have loved others, but I did love him. If I denied my feelings,thenI would be a liar and I would wear the title with a huge smile on my face,” I cock my head to the side. “But my heart has never really belonged to anyone other than the one that got away, the one I left behind standing on the driveway as my parents drove me away from the farm and out of Lovelock Bay.”
“Riggs,” she whispers and my eyes glass over.
“Yeah, Riggs.”
* * *
RIGGS
I’m in a sour mood.
My heart aches, my emotions are all over the place and all I want is to be with Aspen.
I re-read her message, silencing out the noise around me from the rowdy bunkhouse.
Wildflower
‘The infinity symbol’, forever and always.
Sighing, I lock my phone and place it face down on the table as I reach for my beer, sliding it towards me and taking a large mouthful.
“What’s eating you?” Tripp asks as he nudges into me, the smell of bourbon on his breath.
“Just not really in the mood,” I look up at him, willing for him to not ask me why and I can tell by his expression he has heard my thoughts loud and fucking clear.
She needed to know.
And now I wait for her to come home.
I wanted to take her to The Oaks, show her the ranch and what my plans are so when the house is fixed up, I can tell her I did it for us. But somehow, The Oaks seemed a little tainted, yet I knew one ranch where we could start our new beginning.
But that now seems like a million miles away.
Inhaling heavily, I try my hardest to fall into the evening and enjoy it and not spend every single second thinking of her.
My Aspen.
My Wildflower.
My Dinks.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
ASPEN
We’re on our third bottle of wine. I am feeling hazy and tipsy. We have laughed and cried and relived most of our teenage years. We were never bad kids, but we weren’t angels either.
My eyes move to the door and I feel my skin prickle when I see Clay walk in, his eyes searching the room. I fixate on him for a moment before my sole focus is on Harlow.
My whole body stiffens and Harlow doesn’t miss it.
