Page 42 of Wildest Dreams

“Your body clock will soon get used to it,” he throws a soft wink as Ace sniffs around the house.

“Sure it will,” and my voice rattles around the room.

“All okay?” he asks, head tipped slightly.

“I'm not sure,” I rub my hand across my stubble, tongue in cheek.

“Want to talk about it?”

I shrug one shoulder up. “I need to speak to Kelcie,” I finally say after a beat of silence or two.

“Nothing is going to change, Tripp,” Riggs offers a soft tone, fingers rubbing at his temples.

“I know, but I just want to know what his rationale is behind all of this. He is playing us, and I fucking fell straight into his hands.” I tip my head back for a moment and my chest aches.

“You wasn't to know he was playing you, none of us were...”

“I know,” I swallow the apple sized lump down, throat bobbing. My eyes settle on my big brother. “I just need to get Austin out of this mess.”

“By doing what?”

“Finding out who actually killed Clay.”

“You will never find out.”

“I beg to differ...”

I hear a throat being cleared behind me and my eyes close for a moment.

“Morning Dixie,” Riggs lifts his hat from his head as I turn to look at her. But his tone is not kind. It’s harsh. Sarcastic even.

He already thinks she is spying for the Attaways.

“Morning,” her voice is low, barely audible. Slowly looking at her over my shoulder, she shrinks as she walks past me and closer to Riggs.

He stands his ground for just a moment, arms folded across his chest.

She doesn't budge.

They are standing toe to toe.

She is tiny compared to Riggs, but she doesn't back down.

“What do you want to say Riggs? It's unlike you to bite your tongue or is it because you're settled down now? Aspen got your leash a little tight?” Dixie goads him, chin lifted, and I chuckle under my breath. Also a little turned on by her.

Riggs narrows his gaze, a rumble vibrating in his throat.

“I don't trust you,” his arms drop from his chest. Stepping one step closer to her and he towers over her. I'm not far off the height of Riggs, but for some reason, he has always felt taller.

“And why's that?”

“Because I think you're a snake,” his bold tone has her faltering slightly before her back stiffens.

“Why would I be a snake? I'm here to mourn my daughter’s dad. There is no ulterior motive...” she pauses a moment and I see the raise of Riggs' brow.

“You are back for something more...” realization slips past my lips as I step closer, “aren't you?”

She looks over her shoulder at me, brows dug into her forehead before she lets that hard-faced mask slip.

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