Page 8 of Sweet Escape
“In a very broad sense of the word, yes. My parents own a horse ranch, and it’s been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. But I’m not sure why you’d think smelling like hay and horse shit is hot.”
“Well, not when you put it that way.” I smack the backside of my palm against his chest. Jesus, you could break a hand doing that. “Don’t yuck my yum. I used to love horses as a kid. My parents would take me to this local ranch for riding lessons, but there was some big falling out, and we never went back.”
“If you’re ever in my neck of the woods, I’ll take you riding,” he says offhandedly.
My mind goes straight to the gutter. I open my mouth to ask where his neck of the woods is, but he quickly diverts the question back to me, and the fleeting thought floats into the ether.
“What doyoudo?” he asks.
“Funny story. I quit my job this morning. You know, right before I caught my boyfriend fucking my best friend. Before I quit, I was a barista at a coffee shop.”
“Woah. Back up. Why did you quit?”
“Because my loving boyfriend of three years convinced me I should open my own bakery. He offered to invest, and all I’d have to do is find a building and get the ball rolling. I savedup for six months, found the perfect little storefront in Denver, put down a non-refundable deposit, and, well, you know the rest.”
There’s a sharp twinge of pain in my chest when I relay the story, but that’s all it is right now, a twinge. I bypassed the denial stage of grief while Jake was still jackhammering into my best friend, but the anger is lingering just beneath the surface. Maybe that’s why I’m not sobbing into my lo mein.
“I’m sorry, Liv.” He squeezes my thigh.
I offer up a small smile and pat his hand, then reach over to his takeout box and pluck out a piece of sesame chicken. He snatches the box away with a self-satisfied grin, but not before I slip the delicious bite between my lips.
His eyes narrow on me as I scrunch up my nose. “Thief,” he says.
“I thought we were sharing,” I tease.
“I’ll let it slide this time, but if you touch my fortune cookie, all bets are off.”
“Given my recent track record, I’m not sure I want to look at mine.”
“Where’s the fun in that? Come on. Let’s skip to the good part.” He places our takeout boxes on the nightstand and plucks the fortune cookies from the bottom of the smiley face bag. “We’ll do it together. On three. One… two… three.”
A synchronized cracking sound fills the room as a few pieces crumble into my lap. I pull out the tiny slip of paper, pinching my eyes shut and turning my face away as I hand it over to Wilder. “You do it. I can’t look.”
“Wow. These things are crazy accurate nowadays. ‘You’ll meet a handsome stranger on an airplane,’” he says, his tone steeped in amusement.
“Come on. Tell me what it really says.”
“Keep an open heart, and joy is sure to follow.”
“Oh. That’s actually really sweet. What does yours say?”
He places my fortune in the palm of my hand, before peeling open his own, his brow furrowing when he glances at the paper. “Nothing. It’s blank.”
“What? That’s so weird.”
He shrugs and tosses it to the nightstand, wordlessly packing up the leftovers. “It’s getting late. Do you want to shower first?”
“Sure.” I slide out of bed and pad over to the bathroom. Glancing around the corner one last time, I see Wilder standing in the window, his hands locked behind his neck, putting his corded muscles on full display. My eyes drag down the length of his body to his toned ass in those wrangler jeans he wears far too well. There’s something about a barefoot man that really does it for me; it’s almost like seeing them without their armor.
“You’re drooling,” he says, catching my eye in the reflection of the glass.
“What can I say? The view is spectacular.”
I disappear into the bathroom, resting my back against the cool surface of the door to calm my racing heart. The look in Wilder’s eyes has me feeling reckless, and I don’t know what to do with that. I strip off my clothes and hop in the shower, hoping the water will wash away the longing I feel for a man I met less than five hours ago. If anything good can come of this day, let it be a retractable shower head. I peek one eye open, studying the enclosed shower.
Jackpot.
Chapter 2
