Page 76 of Sweet Escape
A throat clears across the table, and Russell tosses me a wink, causing my cheeks to flush what I imagine is a vibrant shade of pink.
Wilder’s hand grips my bare thigh under the table, a zing of electricity shooting up my spine as his calloused fingers trail under the edge of my shorts. I suck in air when they slide dangerouslyclose to the apex of my thighs, and that snaps him out of the moment, rearing back like I’ve singed him.
Interrupting whatever happened, Emmy Lou crawls into my lap, making herself right at home. She lets out a dramatic sigh before popping a thumb into her mouth. I couldn’t give Wilder my heart if I tried, but it already belongs, at least in part, to the little girl nuzzling against my chest. There’s no taking it back now.
Wilder
“The fence line on the East pasture needs mendin’. You up for a ride?” Griffin asks, shoveling his last forkful of Mama’s famous casserole into his mouth.
“Tonight?”
He nods, wiping a hand down his beard as he leans back in his chair.
I glance at Livie to my left.
She gives me a soft smile. “We’re good. You go ahead.”
I smooth my massive palm over Emmy’s back. She settles her head against Liv’s chest, sighing contentedly. The way my daughter finds comfort in Livie eases something inside me. It doesn't surprise me, though. Her presence has that effect on me, too.
“Yeah, I’m in,” I say. “Who’s bringing the equipment?”
“Hank and Clint said they’d meet us out there with the truck,” Griffin says.
“Alright. Let me drop my girls off at home, and I’ll meet you back at the big barn.”
My girls.
When did I start including Olivia in that sentiment?
Jax leads us up the well-worn path around the side of the East pasture, kicking up dirt as Griffin pulls up alongside me on Copper. The midsummer heat blares down on us. There’s a tense furrow in Griffin's brow when I meet his assessing gaze.
“What do you want, Griff?”
A slow smile spreads across his stupid face. “You’ve got it bad, brother.”
“The fuck are you on about?”
“He thinks you’re falling for your baby mama,” Jaxon calls over his shoulder. His paint horse, Sunny, whinnies something like agreement.
“We’re all thinking it,” Griff says. “It’s just that I’m the only honest bastard willing to say it outloud.”
“Yeah? You wanna talk about Angelina while we’re throwing around accusations?” The words are out before I can rein them back in, and a pang of guilt settles low in my gut. I shouldn’t be bringing up his history with Angie. As the only vet in the area, she’s a permanent fixture around here, and I know that has to be hard for him.
Griff digs in his heels and takes off down the path at breakneck speed, giving me the middle finger over his shoulder.
“Fuck.” I groan. “I’m an ass.”
Jax slows, letting Sunny pull up beside Buttercup. “He’ll get over it.”
“I know. He lashes out because he’s still not over what happened.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“No. I put up walls so I don’t have to feel it ever again.”
“How very self-aware of you. And how's that working out for you, Wild Man?”
I huff out an indignant breath. “You sound like Mama.”
