Page 48 of Chasing Forever
“Come on. I’ve come in on time every morning before you open, and the one day I’m late, you give me the cold shoulder?”
I don’t mention how he didn’t come Saturday either because if I say it out loud, I’m admitting that I noticed. That I cared. That I waited for him to show.
That somehow after one date, one date that he begged for, he’s discovered I’m not worthy of that pedestal he put me up on.
Oh god, what are we doing? This entire marriage thing, bargaining for him to win me. It’s messing with my head, and it’s about time I get it together.
“It’s fine. I don’t care.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I swivel around and make his coffee. “I’m just giving you a hard time. Jeez, I’ll make you a new coffee.”
I pull out the creamer from the small fridge below the counter, and my ass bumps into his crotch. “Space please,” I toss over my shoulder.
His hands fall to the counter on either side of my hips, caging me in. “Please don’t do that.”
My hands freeze after pouring the coffee into the cup. “I’m not doing anything.”
“It’s okay to care, Lottie. I’m sorry. Friday night, I got called out of bed in the middle of the night, and I was at the station early for a good part of the day, sorting some shit out. Sunday you’re not open?—”
“You don’t have to tell me this. I’m not?—”
“You are,” he interrupts. “You are my wife. I know it’s only on paper right now, but I’m trying to be your husband off paper, Lottie. Thought I’d made that obvious. So, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you we were running late. But if it makes you feel better, Moore will get my cold shoulder all day for fucking up our morning.”
Our. My heart shouldn’t react to that word. But it does. Oh god, it really, really does.
His strong chest rests along my back, and he nuzzles into my neck. My eyes close of their own accord.
“Are you free Friday?” he whispers, and goose bumps explode across my back. “It’s my turn to plan a date.”
I nod.
“Good. I’ll pick you up at six. Casual dress.” And then he leans in as if I’m his favorite scent and inhales. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Lottie.”
His hand slides between my arm and waist, picking up his coffee, then he’s gone.
I wait for the bell to chime to announce that he’s left before I release a breath.
I’m in so much fucking trouble because I think I’m falling for Brooks Watson.
Chapter Twenty
Lottie
As soon as I flip the closed sign over at The Harvest Depot, I drive my UTV straight to the horse stables. All day long, I’ve only thought of Brooks. The way his breath ghosted across my skin, the way he caged me against the counter like I was his and he didn’t want to let go of me.
I want to be your husband off paper.
That sentence has been looping in my head like a mantra. And every time it replays, my body reacts. My heart flutters, my skin flushes, my chest aches like I’m starved for something I’ve never allowed myself to want. You’d think I was the lead in some over-the-top Valentine’s Day commercial. It’s ridiculous.
I need to get a grip.
Normally, when my head’s a storm, I retreat to my she-shed. It’s my space to breathe, to think, to unravel my anger or sadness. But tonight, it’s not anger or sadness I’m dealing with. When I’m emotionally twisted like I am now, I turn to horseback riding to gain some clarity.
What are these feelings stirring inside of me? What do they mean, and why are they so scary?
“You riding?” Nash asks as he steps out of the stall, shutting the door behind him. He’s my cousin Jenson’s best friend and the horse trainer on the ranch.
