Page 74 of When Sparks Fly

Andi’s movements cease and her eyes dart between us. Sutton’s gaze goes dark and his mouth tips. “Firecracker.” It’s a warning.

I want to challenge him. To see what punishment looks like, but again, I refrain due to Andi’s presence.

Chapter 32

Sutton

Standing in the kitchen of my parents’ house, watching Maci interact with my family easily, I’ve never been so happy. I’m not an unhappy guy. Some days on the ranch are tougher than others, but I enjoy the hard work and seeing progress at the day’s end. Nothing has ever made me as happy as today.

Waking to Maci in my bed, tangled up with me, it didn’t matter that we didn’t have sex last night. Before her, I never felt like anything was missing and yet now I feel whole. How does one night do that to someone?

I’m walking a fine line between possessive and protective, need and want. I know I don’t want to sleep without her curled into me. I don’t want to wake up without Maci next to me.

In the blind, I had no intention of touching her. Tasting her. The tension between us was a lit fuse. I’d hoped some release would help her relax.

Butfuck. Her cries, her body against mine, the way she said my fucking name. I’m never giving that up.

And then with ease, she takes in my family. Granted, she hasn’t met Sammi, but it’s not a concern. Mama adores her and I can tell Maci is comforted by Mama, too.

Now I want to show her something a little vulnerable. I want her here with me, on the ranch. I have no intention of ever leaving this life. So I wantto show her a bit of what the future could look like. I think we can build a beautiful life together. I’m hoping like hell she sees the beauty in it, too. I don’t want to imagine doing this without her.

It doesn’t matter that the last thirty years of my life didn’t contain her or that I’ve only known her for a matter of weeks. Now that she’s here, a part of my life, a part of me, there’s no going back.

Chapter 33

Maci

Instead of heading back to Sutton’s room after dinner, he hauls me into "the Defender". It’s basically a golf cart on steroids with a badass motor, but it handles the terrain of the ranch which would destroy something smaller.

“It’s just as easy to drive this around the property.” He takes a rough trail, running parallel to the driveway, toward the front of the ranch. When he turns on a branch of the road I didn’t notice before and goes all the way to the end, I give him a sideways glance.

The wind whips my loose hair around and it’s like a wild piece of me I’ve kept tamed has been released. I’ve been at the ranch less than twenty-four hours and the entrepreneur from Austin living in a tiny apartment seems so far gone. Can I be both?

Eventually, we come to a gate and Sutton pulls along the fence, jumping out and unlatching it. He doesn’t worry about shutting this one.

Tall grass and shrubs create an unruly meadow ahead of us. A mixture of oak and mesquite trees form a natural perimeter on the north side. When he cuts the engine, I don’t move. “What is this place?”

“I thought you might like to decompress for a bit.” His voice is quiet.

“Are we dancing again?” My head rests against the firm seat and I tip my chin his way with a smile.

He mirrors me, seeming both surprised and pleased. “Do you want to dance?”

“I love dancing with you.” My eyes lower to his hand on my knee as I trace his corded arm back up, over his chest. When my eyes return to his face, his lips are pursed gently in thought. It’s an uncommon expression for him. My brows furrow.

He gives my leg a squeeze before exiting and rounding the front of the machine. Once I’m out with him, he guides me into the grassy area, placing me in front of him. I relish his warmth as one hand grips each of my hips, pulling me flush to his chest.

For the first time, his silence seems heavy. The setting sun gives the space a mesmerizing glow. A cooler breeze than this morning brushes my hair into my face and brings with it a bubbling sound. My eyes dart around.

Reading my thoughts, Sutton points into the distance to my right. “There’s a creek back there.” Despite the openness of the meadow, the scattered trees add a feeling of seclusion. There’s nothing else as far as the horizon.

He steps out from behind me, turning to walk backward and making his way toward the center of the colorful field. “I’m going to build a house here.”

“Oh?”

His face is the Sutton I met in Nana’s house. The Sutton from the porch after he saw me chastise flowers. The Sutton from the truck when we arrived yesterday evening. He’s studying me, assessing for something. Though unsure, his look doesn’t fill me with anxiety.

I’ve learned during our time getting to know one another that he does nothing without thought. He’s quiet, solid, and sexy as hell. And there’s a depth to him that he doesn’t share openly.

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