Page 58 of Dallas

Chapter Fifteen

Dallas

Usually, going to my uncle’s ranch is one of my favorite things. But my head is somewhere else. I really messed things up last night, and it isn’t so muchhowI acted aswhyI acted that way.

When she kissed me earlier today, it was like an electric shock to my system.

I bought you that present. I made you that cake.

I might as well have sat down on the ground and thrown a tantrum at her. Hell, I practically did last night.

I did all that for her, and she paid attention to another man, because he was flirting with her, and I wasn’t.

But she kissed me.

A little peck on the lips that would mean nothing for most women, but from Sarah…

I know how precious touch is to her. The problem is, what I really wanted to do was grab the back of her head and keep her from pulling away. What I really wanted to dowas deepen the kiss, part my lips, and claim her mouth as my own…

Fuck.

“Fuck!” Right as I finish thinking the expletive, I bring a hammer down on my thumb, pretty much smashing it all the hell and obliterating every thought in my brain. Maybe it’s a good thing. Maybe I should be grateful.

Grateful for the pain.

“You good?”

I look over my shoulder to see my uncle Wyatt standing there, staring at me in amusement.

“Totally fine,” I say.

“Has it been this long since you did any real ranch work, rhinestone cowboy?”

“No,” I say.

“Rhinestone cowboy,” Uncle Grant says. “Good one.”

“Oh, be nice to him,” my dad says.

“Why?” Grant asks. “Because he’s a champion bull rider millionaire?”

“No,” Dad says, reaching over and bumping the cowboy hat on my head. “Because he’s just a little kid.”

“All right,” I say. “All of you settle down. You’re worse than all the kids.”

And there were a lot of kids. I’m pretty much beset by little cousins at this point. I don’t mind it. But I’m the oldest by quite a bit.

I didn’t know Wyatt before he was with his wife, Lindy. She was apparently married to the biggest jackass on the planet, and my uncle was her knight in shining armor. To hear him tell it.

And she lets him tell it that way, so I have to assume it’s close enough to the truth.

They all have what I want. This kind of stable, happylife, complete with the right kind of person by their side, who makes them better.

“Did you break it?” Wyatt asks me.

I forgot about my thumb for a second.

“No,” I say, looking down at my swollen thumb. “It’s not broken. It just hurts.”

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