Page 18 of Wildest Dreams

I had to deal with this myself.

I just didn't know how to.

CHAPTER SIX

DIXIE

Istand like a spare part as Tripp lays the table, Orla checks on her food and Jorge is sitting at the breakfast bar.

Pacey has just been dragged out of the kitchen like a naughty toddler and sent to bed without supper, Aspen is talking quietly to Orla and Riggs stays away.

Tripp walks back into the kitchen, his eyes skating over me as if he is trying to avoid eye contact and I am desperate for him to look at me properly.

“Can I do anything to help?” my voice sounds hopeful, and Tripp looks up.

“I need to grab some wine, wanna come with?” his brows raise, like he is surprised he has even asked me.

“Sure,” I shrug my shoulder up nonchalantly and follow him out the front of the house, down the porch steps and towards the basement doors.

I stand back and watch as he tugs the rusty bolt across and pulls the doors open. The soft spring breeze dances around us, the sweet smell in the air and I look towards the mountains. The stars kissing the tips, the moon full and round, glowing in all its glory. Turning my face, I see Tripp holding his hand out for me. I can easily step over the lip and onto the step, but I take his handanyway. It fits perfectly with mine and I inwardly gasp when I feel a lightning shock through me, my blood burning as it rushes through my veins. All the feelings from ten years ago consume me whole in an instance.

Snapping back out of it, I step over the threshold and continue walking into the dark basement when I hear a soft click and the whole under build lights up. I look up and see cute, twinkling fairy lights hanging from the beams.

“Fairy lights?” I ask, turning and looking at Tripp over my shoulder, pausing for a moment.

“Aspen. Scared of the dark. Riggs put them everywhere. He never wanted her to be afraid...” He trails off as we reach the bottom, his feet moving towards the racks of wine.

Sweet move Riggs, sweet. “Do you drink red?” He interrupts my thoughts as his fingers brush against the dusty corks of the bottles.

“I do,” and for some reason, I feel my cheeks burning. Why am I blushing?

“Merlot?” he continues, slipping out a bottle just past it's neck, “or a Rioja?”

“Merlot,” I answer, following him like a needy puppy.

“Or...” He pauses as his fingers dance over to another bottle, “a cabernet?”

“Cabernet.” I love a cabernet. White or red. Cabernet is my wine.

“Two bottles?”

“The whole family is here, so why not,” I step close to him, my nerves tingling from being in close proximity.

“Sound perfect.” He takes his own bottle out of the rack and holds his hand out for me to go ahead of him. We walk back towards the steps in complete silence, and for the first time, I don't feel the tension. I feel at ease.

I turn, smirking as I hold my own hand out for him to take, I don't miss the way his eyes flicker, but soothing as soon as our eyes meet.

He is hesitant, but he takes it, fingers brushing before my hand tucks perfectly inside of his.

Walking back into the house, it all seems calm, but as soon as Tripp notices Riggs, everything changes. I can feel the tension slowly rising and I know I am not going to be wanted here.

“What is it?” Tripp asks, I can hear the nerves cracking in his voice, the way his shoulders are rising and falling a little quicker tells me his heart is racing in his chest. He places his bottle of wine on the countertop, and I mirror him, hidden safely behind him for just a moment.

Riggs eyes lift over Tripp’s shoulders and land on me. That's my cue to leave.

“I'm going to check on Lainey,” I mutter softly, turning and walking away.

Silence rings loud in my ears as my feet lead me to where Lainey is sleeping peacefully. Opening her door, I sneak in and sit quietly on my bed.

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