Page 67 of Rough
“Wild,” I whisper. “What are—”
He grabs my hands and holds them on the ground next to my head, dropping down close until we’re nose to nose. Clenching his eyes tightly, he turns his head to the side to collect himself. “I-I don’t think I’ve ever been more afraid in my life, Bets. You can’t do this kinda shit to me!”
Indignation fills me, and I get pissed, fighting to free my hands. When he refuses to let me go, I push up into his face. “It wasn’t my fault! You gonna tell me why you kissed me like that? You just went out on a date last night and now you’re kissin’me?”
Dropping his chest to mine, he pushes me back into the dirt. Snarling, he nips at my lower lip, shocking me into silence. “I’m fuckin’kissin’you because I got scared. And I don’t give a fuck about who I took on a date last night! She don’t hold a candle to you!” He swallows hard, realizing what he said, then adds more gently, “They’re never as good as you.”
I’m frozen, not sure what to say, but when he dips his head down again, slanting his mouth over mine once more, I find I don’t care about his anger. This time, his kiss is full of teethand aggression, working against my mouth as punishment for scaring him, and I take it.
“I shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he mumbles against me, then releases my hands to wrap around my body. Sucking my tongue, it shoots through my body, straight to my pussy, and I wrap my legs around him to pull him closer.
When he drags his mouth from mine to trail along my jaw, then down my neck, I moan and tilt my head back. “Wilder,” I pant, digging my fingers into his hair, pulling at the roots.
I’m not sure if it was me tugging at the strands or his full name on my lips, but he jerks back suddenly, falling to his ass and staring at me like he’s seen a ghost. I push myself up slowly until we’re eye level; me waiting on his next words, and him processing what we’ve just done.
I don’t like the look of horror on his face. A sick feeling settles in my stomach right alongside embarrassment and longing. Everything on his face says he’s horrified and regrets what he’s just done.
Reaching out to him, I whisper, “Wild,” but he only shakes his head.
Shoving himself to his feet, he shakes his head quickly, brushing the dirt from his jeans. His eyes look everywhere but at me before he asks, “You got a handle on this, or should I send over Rem or Clyde to help you out?”
He can’t meet my eyes, and I want to puke. Swallowing convulsively, I stutter. “N-No… I got it. Wild, it’s okay that we—”
“I’m gonna go ride Baron, then head back to Rem’s place to start chores. Sorry for doin’ what I did. Glad you’re okay. I gotta go.” He says all of this while backing away from me, still not meeting my eye, then spins on his heel and takes off to the barn.
I watch him leave, touching my lips. For years I’d dreamed of what it’d be like to kiss Wilder Foxburg, and it was everything I ever wanted and nothing but disappointment.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Betsy
I’m trying not to stare at him as we bounce our way to the pond, but Wilder’s determined and focused, so I let my eyes run over his profile. He looks so different from before and that just breaks my heart. Sure, he looks likehim, but there are all these little changes which are so much more obvious with the time apart.
His hair is slightly longer, tiny wrinkles are forming next to his eyes, and his skin is a bit hardened from working outside and aging. My eyes fall to his mouth, then zero in on a scar that was never there before.
Lifting my chin, I ask, “How’d you get it?” then kick myself for even caring. But I can’t help it. It’s not new, which means it healed for a few years, and it kind of curves with his smile lines. Probably why I didn’t notice it until just now.
He glances at me, sees where I’m looking, then trails a finger over the silvery skin. “We had some calves to tag out in pasture. My knot slipped, so the little fucker got free and bucked me with his feet. I spun so he wouldn’t hit my face but was standin’ too close to the barbed wire. Caught my face.”
“Stitches?”
“Nah. Just glued it. Probably should have gotten some, but it worked out. Besides, the ladies like scars. Makes us look dangerous.” He waggles his brows to get me to laugh, but I refuse to give in.
Instead, I put my nose up. “You’ve always been terrible at tyin’ rope. Told you it’d come back to bite you.” He slows my truck until we stop next to the water, then shuts off the engine. Reaching for the handle, I stop him. “I’m not getting out of this truck, so say what you wanna say and take me back.”
With a sigh, he fists my keys, causing his knuckles to turn white as he squeezes them, then turns to face me. His knee is bent and when it presses against my thigh, I shift away and cross my legs. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look more serious than he is right now, and with the frown, that scar is standing out.How did I miss it earlier?
He fidgets with the keys, working his jaw as he stares at me, not saying a word. Just as I open my mouth to tell him to get on with it, he jerks his head sharply from side to side. “Just give me a second. I’m trying to figure out how to say what I want to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. You all are real good speakin’ your mind with actions, as we all saw the moment you left. Why don’t you stick to that? Then I can saymessage receivedand we can all go about our day.”
Wilder angles his head and studies me. “You’re not as carefree and happy as you used to be.”
“Thanks,” I bite out.
“Damn it, Bets. I don’t mean it as an insult. Just catchin’ up on how much you’ve changed. I don’t understand what happened after we moved away, to you I mean.”
That does it for me. I was trying to be tolerant and give him a moment to collect himself, but seriously? What happened after I moved away?Is he fuckin’ serious right now?I have no idea, so I fucking ask him.
