Page 74 of The Untamed

“All good, Mom,” I lie, grinning brightly at her.

She scrutinizes me, eyes skimming all over my face as though she can see right inside my head. I keep the too-wide grin stretched over my face, though it begins to shake slightly. I think I might have her fooled…

“Ronan, baby,” she begins with a sigh. “Depression runs in our family.” Her features shutter at a past memory that momentarily holds her hostage. “Promise me you’ll talk to me before you let whatever’s bothering you completely consume you.”

“Promise.” My forced smile falters, so I look away before she can see it. “I’ll run these up to the big house.”

She purses her lips together, studying me for a beat, and then nods, handing me the basket she and the little ones have been filling with eggs. I grab my own basket and hurry out of the coup before she’s able to dig any deeper. In my haste, I nearly railroad over my brother.

Ryder side-steps me and raises his arm holding his rifle, eyes wide as he assesses me.

“Sorry,” I grumble. “I just had to get out of there.”

His gaze travels past me to where Mom can be seen in the coup. I watch as his features harden into stone. The last thing I need right now is Ryder confronting Mom about what Wild said.

“Here,” I say, thrusting one of the baskets at him. “I think we need to talk.”

Ryder shoulders his rifle before taking the basket. The angry, determined expression on his face has faded into something more resigned. I don’t like either of those looks. I want my happy, smiling brother back.

Together, we walk in silence past the visitors sitting at the firepit. I notice Logan watching me with narrowed eyes. It’s nearly impossible not to squirm, but I somehow manage, focusing on Ryder’s and my feet as we step in perfect unison. Thankfully, when we make it into the big house, no one is lingering in the kitchen.

We’re alone.

“How’d the hunt go?” I ask, opting for small talk instead of going right into what I really want to ask him.What happened with Dad?

“Rowdy almost got a buck. We’re going to leave some corn tonight and go back earlier tomorrow to see if we can stake him out.” Ryder follows me into the large pantry and leans against the doorframe as I start putting the eggs in the crate. “You can come with us if you want.”

I finish unloading my basket and then take his before answering. “Yeah, maybe.”

He sighs heavily. “What do you want to talk about?”

I set the basket down at my feet and turn to look at him. Today, he’s tired. I can see it in the slight shadowing under his eyes, the hunch of his shoulders, and the inability to even attempt a smile. Even his voice sounds exhausted.

“What’s going on with you?” I step closer to him. “You’ve been distant.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, darting his eyes away from mine. “It’s nothing.”

“Big liar.”

I poke at his stomach that’s hard from a life of physical labor. He jerks his head my way, a smirk playing at his lips. Seeing the tease of a smile I’ve been missing has my stomach flipping. Memories of that night flood through my brain, sending currents of electricity pulsing through me straight to my cock. I’m annoyed by the fact I’m sporting a semi just from an almost smile from my brother, but here I am doing just that.

“Tell me,” I murmur. “You can tell me anything. We don’t keep secrets, Ry.”

His blue eyes flash at the mention of secrets and his tongue runs along his bottom lip, wetting it. My own mouth waters for a taste of his bottom lip. I’d love to nip at it and turn it into his full-on boyish grin.

As though he’s trapped in a trance, he reaches forward, hooking his finger through the front belt hoop of my jeans. I choke on a gasp as he tugs me closer to him. My heart leaps up my throat and every nerve in my body sings to life.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

His touch and attention, even as simple as this stolen moment in the pantry, are a fantasy come to life. It’s wrong, but right now, I don’t care. This feels really good—us, alone, focused on one another.

I want to kiss him.

Again.

This time with tongues and teeth and breathy moans.

I blink away my daze and understanding chases away the lust I’d been consumed by. He’s trying to distract me. He’s playing my desire for him against me to avoid the question. Hurt lances through me, cutting deeply and violently. I jerkily pull away from him, swatting his hand off my belt hoop. My cheeks are hot with a mixture of lingering desire and embarrassment.

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