Page 29 of Sin With Me
“I don’t have anything to wear. That guy spilled beer on my shirt, and I’m not wearin’ that out in public.”
“You can borrow somethin’ of mine.”
“I’ll drown in anythin’ of yours.”
Although I like the thought of wearing one of his shirts, I wanna go home and shower. I probably look as rough as I feel. It’s my day off and all I wanna do is rot in my own bed until tomorrow morning.
“Nah, you can do that tuck ’n tie thing girls do…” He stands, walks to his closet, and goes through it.
“The what?” I murmur, pulling myself up into a sitting position in only my bra.
After Wilder tucked me in, I threw off my shirt and now I’m wishing I’d remembered to grab it before he returned.
His bed is actually super comfortable, so I slept like a rock, but I feel hungover. Not from alcohol, but from being up so late and mentally exhausted.
“Here, this should work.” He holds up a black T-shirt with the ranch’s white logo on the chest pocket. “Just tie it in a knot.”
I lift a shoulder, giving in to the idea because I’m starving and can shower later. “Sure, fine. Do you have any headache meds?”
He stares at me before lowering his gaze down to my chest, and I wonder if he’s remembering the way he touched my nipples last night. He clears his throat, then blinks a few times before he nods.
“Yeah, I’ll grab you a couple and a glass of water.” He hands me the shirt, then walks toward the kitchen like he can’t leave the room fast enough.
By the time we get to The Lodge, it’s packed with guests and numerous Hollis family members.
It’s the main building on the retreat where guests check in, sign up for activities, and where everyone eats when they stay here. The workers come in here during their breaks to take advantage of the brunch buffet. Considering their long hours and working in various weather conditions, it makes sense. I’ve only been here a handful of times, but I’m already glad I agreed to come.
The array of smells hits my nose as soon as we enter. One thing’s for sure, Hollises don’t mess around when it comes to Southern cuisine and their family recipes.
A few buffet-style tables line one wall with a dessert feast on the end, and I help myself to all of it.
Everyone stares when I bring my plate to the table and sit in between Wilder and Waylon. I know I look rough, but they’re looking at me like I’m half-dead.
A zombie probably looks better than I do right now.
“Heard you had an entertainin’ night,” Waylon drawls.
“Guess you could call it that.” I look around for the silverware, then realize I forgot to grab some.
Wilder takes a bite of his food before handing me his fork. “Here, take mine.”
“Thanks,” I say, then watch as he stands to grab a new one.
“You coulda called me so you didn’t have to wait at the station,” Waylon says.
“What for? I gave you my word I’d watch out for him and that’s what I was doin’,” I tell him. “Not like he punched a cop. Oh, wait—” I stop dramatically, and everyone’s gaze flies toward Wilder as he sits next to me.
“Who’d you hit?” Landen asks, sitting across from us with Tripp to his left.
“Wesley,” Wilder murmurs.
“How the hell are you not in jail?” Tripp asks the next question.
“Good fuckin’ question.” Waylon shakes his head.
“I already got my ass reamed by the sheriff and Mom. No need to add to it.” Wilder digs into his pancakes and shoves a huge bite in his mouth, clearly not wanting to talk about it anymore.
“You slept here last night?” Noah asks from Landen’s right. She’s four years younger than me, but she’s already married, with a three-year-old and a baby on the way. She’s had her life figured out since before she could legally buy alcohol.
