Page 37 of Power
Axel: Yet you still ask my advice. Look, just because I don’t do feelings doesn’t mean I can’t spot them from a mile away. And you, my friend, are in deep shit.
Me: Thanks for that stellar observation. Really helpful.
Axel: What can I say? I’m a giver.
Me: This conversation has been about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
Axel: But seriously … tread carefully with feelings. They have a way of …
Axel: … [typing message]
Axel. Never mind. Just avoid them.
I stared at my phone, wondering what he had been about to text.
But right now, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that I was no closer to understanding or preventing this swelling desire to see Scarlett past this one weekend. And what, if anything, I was going to do about it …
17
SCARLETT
“I’ve never brought anyone here before,” I admitted, the words catching me by surprise, even as they left my mouth.
After grabbing breakfast, then a change of clothes from my place, we’d driven on his motorcycle all the way here. Holy hell, was that sexy, with my arms wrapped around his waist, fingers spread against his tight abs beneath the soft cotton of his shirt. He’d insisted I wear his only helmet, and as the wind wrapped around us like a promise of adventure, I couldn’t help but admire how his biceps flexed as he handled the bike. Now, we were here, in the pasture, where I stood, stroking Buttercup’s velvet nose while she nickered softly against my palm.
She was perfection, wrapped in a bow. A giant tawny goddess of unconditional love.
“Never?” Jace’s voice held genuine curiosity, none of the mockery I’d expected.
“Never.” I breathed in the sweet scent of hay. “It’s kind of my safe space. When I come here, everything else just … falls away. It’s just me and my horse, feeling her love and giving it right back. Fresh air and freedom.”
“Why did you bringmetoday?”
That was a seriously good question. The kind that made my stomach do a little cartwheel. I ran my fingers through Buttercup’s coarse mane, buying time.
“I guess there’s something liberating about knowing I’ll never see you again. No pressure to turn this into something it isn’t, you know?”
The logic had sounded good in my head, but as soon as I spoke the words out loud, an unexpected pain hit my chest. Why did the thought of never seeing Jace again feel less like relief and more like … grief?
Must be the mind-blowing sex. And the no-strings-attached fun. That has to be what this is.
And that flicker of a grimace on his face—that had to be something I was imagining.
“So, this is your errand,” he said after clearing whatever he’d considered saying from his throat.
“Every Saturday. Sundays, too, if I can. I want to come more often. To give her treats and take her out on the trails but …” But I’d been working so many hours that Buttercup had often paid the price of getting less attention.
“She’s beautiful,” he said, reaching out slowly to let Buttercup sniff his hand.
“Wow, she normally doesn’t like men.”
“Is that so?”
“I rescued her,” I explained. “Her last owner was a man who abused her.” Lord, how many nights I’d cried, realizing what she’d been through. The only thing that comforted me was knowing I would never ever let anyone hurt her again. I’d sell all my possessions and live in a shoebox if that was what it took to maintain the expense of her. “She’s everything to me.” My voice wavered slightly.
Jace’s eyes found mine, sharp and perceptive. A warm breeze ruffled his dark hair, carrying the scent of wildflowers and sun-warmed grass.
“Something’s bothering you,” he said softly.
