Page 65 of Ride the Sky

The conversation level in the kitchen increases. Everyone’s talking louder than normal, trying not to listen.

My father runs a finger over his silver horseshoe mustache. “Well.” He chews the words around then says, “I won’t lie about that. I am.” He sighs as he turns to Wyatt. “Son.”

Wyatt straightens. “Sir.”

“You and I need to talk. But now’s not the time.” I watch my father’s fingers flex. “As a cowboy, I expected better of you.”

My father’s jab cuts. Wyatt flinches.

So do I.

I’ve waited years for Wyatt to drop out of my father’s good graces. So I don’t know why I feel bad. Why I hate the crestfallen look on Wyatt’s face, the way his broad shoulders bow.

Wyatt doesn’t deserve my father’s wrath, not when I’m the one at fault. Sure, it was his idea to get married, but I was the one who came onto him first. For my own selfish reasons, casual sex, blowing off steam. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I don’t know why I do it. Brush my fingers against Wyatt’s. Maybe to show him I’m sorry. To show him my father doesn’t have any right to be upset with him. Without looking my way, Wyatt loops his pinkie around mine. The contact, the curl of his fingers makes my cheeks rosy.

Regret swallows me up.

“Dad, I’m sorry.”

My father shakes his head. “I expected better of you, too, Fallon.”

Wyatt hisses a breath.

Fuck. It feels like he’s slapped me.

“Well,” my father says, avoiding my eyes. “You’re home, so let’s get you settled.”

Hot tears sting the backs of my eyes as he walks away. My father might be pissed at me, but he’s still going to take care of me.

“That fucking sucked.” I sag back, pretending not to notice how I’m braced by Wyatt’s hard chest.

His voice is rough in my ear. “It’s not your fault.”

I incline my head to look up at him and give him a soft smile. “It’s not yours either.”

Those bright-blue eyes land on my face. “At least we’re in it together.”

“Yeah. Right.”

In it together.His words do something nauseating to my heart.

My chest tightens as Wyatt rests a big hand on the small of my back. He doesn’t have to say a word. It’s always been this way. He guides me, and I just know.

Together, we slowly head into the kitchen.

Dakota arranges my medications on the counter, while Davis unloads boxes. Reese stocks the fridge with food, while Ruby adjusts a bouquet of flowers on the kitchen counter. Ford and Charlie are somewhere in the barn, helping with the horses.

My chin begins to quiver. Guilt. It’s all around me. I don’t deserve them. I left them on read this entire last year, and they’re still showing up for me.

Goddamn this pain medication, I blink back angry tears. It’s making me tired. Making me soft.

My sister appears in front of me. Her sad eyes tell me she’s overheard my conversation with my father. “C’mon, let me show you what they did.”

Dakota shows me the few adjustments made to my cottage—grab bars in the bathroom and my bedroom, clear pathways down the hall. By the time we’re finished, the sun is setting and I’m fully unpacked. I’m hugged, kissed, and then everyone is gone, leaving just me and Wyatt.

Alone.

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