Page 62 of Every Promise Broken

“I, uh…” He peers over at me before quickly darting his gaze away. “I’ve got plans.”

That catches my attention. Whit never has plans, especially not during the week. “Yeah? What do you got going on?”

“Uh, it’s nothing important.”

He won’t look at me, and he’s acting weird. What, does he have a date or something? The thought of that has the center of my chest burning with something I refuse to put a name to. I have no right to give a shit about how he’s spending his evening, but I’m pushing anyways.

“Tell me,” I mutter, trying to be casual, but I wince as it comes out sounding demanding and growly instead.

Eyes flying to mine, I can tell my tone took him by surprise too. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Then why are you acting weird?”

Whit blows out a breath, his hands clenching at his sides. “I don’t like sauerkraut, okay!” he blurts, before clamping his lips together.

I huff out a small laugh. “What?”

He sighs, brushing a hand through his hair. “I hate sauerkraut,” he says, much softer this time. “I hate it, so that’s why I can’t come to dinner.”

“You… hate sauerkraut?” I don’t know what I expected him to say, but it certainly wasn’t this. That’s a lie. I definitely thought he was going to say he was going on a date, so this, while out of left field, is much better. But I ignore that thought.

“Yes. Like, I loathe it. It’s so disgusting.” Planting his hands on his hips, he fixes his gaze on me, a furrow to his brow. “Have you smelled it? It’s putrid!” A gagging sound escapes him that I’m almost positive is fake, but I can’t be sure. “I hate it so much that I firmly believe the cruelest, worst way to die would be to drown in a vat of sauerkraut juice.”

Watching him for a moment, I bark out a laugh. A full-on belly laugh, which only deepens his furrow. I don’t know what it is about Whit, but he makes me laugh. He lightens my mood almost every single day.

“You’re laughing at me?”

“I’m sorry.” Clearing my throat and straightening my face, I say, “I just wasn’t expecting that. You’re intense about your hatred for pickled cabbage.”

“Well, it’s disgusting, Conrad. The smell!”

“Okay, okay.” Holding up my hands, I bite back another laugh. “No sauerkraut, got it.”

“Quit mocking me,” he mutters with a scowl, and all I can think about is how cute he looks when he’s mad.

“I’m not mocking you,” I tease. “If we hurry up, we can take a dip in the creek before we head back up to the barn.” The sweat drips down the back of my neck into my shirt. He’s right, it is scorching out today.

“I don’t have a swimsuit,” he says, eyes flicking over to mine before he looks away.

He does that a lot, avoid eye contact. It’s like it’s uncomfortable for him. When he first started working here, my father thought it was rude; eye contact is important to Henrik Strauss, but over time, he finally realized it’s not rude. It’s just how Whit is.

“You don’t need a swimsuit,” I say as I toss the tools in the back of the ATV. “You got boxers on, don’t you?”

I bite back another grin trying to break free at how quickly his cheeks turn pink. “Um, well, yeah, of course I do.”

“Well, there you go.”

“Are…” His throat rolls against a swallow. “Are you going to do that?”

Lifting one shoulder in a shrug, I say, “Maybe.”

He doesn’t say anything back, but that’s okay. We finish fixing the rest of the fence about a half an hour later, then make a detour to the creek just like I promised. The area is covered by huge trees, which makes for a nice, cool shaded area. Stripping down to my black boxers, I walk into the shallow water, enjoying the way it cools my body down almost immediately. Looking back, I observe Whit as he decides what he’s going to do. His forest green eyes lift, meeting mine, and instead of looking away, he holds my gaze for a moment before he lets them trail down my body.

The weight of his stare heats my blood, the reaction taking me by surprise.

It takes him a moment, but eventually he strips down too, stepping into the water on cautious feet. “This feels so good,” he breathes out, a smile tugging on his lips as he looks over at me.

“It does,” I agree, unable to take my eyes off him. It’s like all of the sudden, I’m seeing him in a new light. Ever since that night in the barn. Maybe it was the way he clung to me or the way he looked up at me, or maybe it’s that I’m finally seeing him as a man instead of the boy he was when he first came here. Whatever it is, it makes my chest tighten and my throat ache. It makes me want to do things I shouldn’t be wanting to do.

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