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Wade rarely shares about his past. All we know is he’s never married, never been interested in relationships or kids. He lost his family in a fire as a young adult and has been with the ranch ever since.
“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” He winks like there’s quite a story there. But in the blink of an eye, shuts it all down, like he normally does when the attention is on him. “Well, it sounds like the men have settled down for the night. Gonna hit the hay.”
I hold back my frown. “Sounds good. Thanks for the company.”
I stay out there for I don’t know how long before deciding I need to call it a night as well. Whatever Porter’s doing, he must be having a good time of it. I wish I could see that—him playing for a crowd—but it would probably only make me ache for him more.
Just as I’m stamping out the fire, headlights illuminate the driveway, and fuck if my stomach doesn’t flip knowing he’s back.
Though I also wish I wasn’t out here this late as if I’m waiting up for him.
I focus on my task as if I’m paying him no mind as he parks, cuts the engine, and jumps out of the cab, carrying his guitar.
“What the hell are you doing up?”
“I could ask you the same question.” I study his tight jeans, plaid shirt, and cowboy boots. Damn, he looks good. “You still play?”
“Here and there.”
“Cool.”
The air grows thick between us as we stare at each other.
“Well, I should—” He makes the motion to leave.
“Remember when we’d dream about sleeping under the stars in the mountains?”
He hitches a shoulder as if it’s no big thing. “We done it plenty of times.”
“I mean alone. Just you, me, and your guitar.”
“Bishop, I told you?—”
“I know, I know.” I hold up my hands and back away. “Just boss and employee. Good night.”
I rub at the ache in my chest that feels a whole lot like longing.
Chapter 8
Porter
I head into the barn to check the chore board and see where Sully is. There’s always something that needs to be done, so they keep a list each day, and when someone is assigned to a job, or doing it, their name gets added.
I don’t see anything listed for Sully and bite back a quiet curse. Of course he isn’t there when I need to talk to him.
You don’t need him. You can tell Wade. He’s the foreman.
“You need something?” I hear from behind me, Sully’s voice rough and drowsy. It’s still fairly early in the day, but he sounds more tired than usual. I’ve been watching him too often in the past few days since we decided to forget the past and be nothing but boss and employee. Sully still runs himself ragged, still takes on more responsibility than he should, still works his ass off to do whatever he can to make his parents proud. Doesn’t he see how lucky he is? They’re already proud of him.
“I think a couple of heifers have bloat. I’m trying some bloat oil in their water, but I wanted to tell you in case we need to call Doc Roy in.”
“Fuck.” Sully pulls off his hat and rubs a hand over his sweaty hair. “That’s the last thing we need.”
I nod because it’s true. “Hopefully I caught it early enough and we can get it taken care of.”
“Thank you for that. I’ll go take a look and keep a close eye on them. I’ll make sure the rest of the guys do the same.”
We both stand there staring at each other as if there aren’t a million other things we could be doing. I turn away and shake my head only to get a quiet, “What?” from him.
