Page 23 of Alive and Wells

He may have looked, but then he left.

Apparently, yesterday’s humiliation isn’t enough to stop me from subjecting myself to more rejection, though.

I plunk down into my usual seat across from Austin. His black T-shirt, snug across his broad shoulders, makes it hard for me to remember what I came here to ask.

“Hey,” I say. We sit here every morning, so you’d think he wouldn’t flinch at my presence, yet he does. Granted, I don’t usually say anything out loud to acknowledge him. His cheeks turn a deep shade of pink as he looks up at me.

Interesting.

“Jackson told me I have to ask you if… um…” I trip on my words as his studying gaze sends my heart into a panicked rhythm. “Well… I just—”

“Haven’t got all day.”

“Can I come to the auction with you?”

He scrunches his face in disgust. “No.”

While I expected that to be his answer, it doesn’t mean I’m any less irritated about it. “Come on. Kate’s going and it sounds exciting.”

“Darlin’, you’re seriously disturbed if you think a livestock auction sounds exciting.”

His mouth twists into what could almost be considered a smile, and I use this as my opportunity. Teasing him usually gets me what I want because he shuts down and gives up.

A win is a win.

“But you’re smiling because you think my excitement is cute.” I bat my eyelashes at him. “Anyway, you don’t know what sort of things interest me. Let me come with you.”

“We’re leaving in ten, and I don’t want to hear you complain about the long drive or the boring auction,” he says.

I take a proud sip of coffee, relaxing into the rickety wooden chair. But instead of returning to his cattle rancher magazine, he continues looking at me questioningly. “Don’t you need to get ready?”

“I guess so.” I slam back my coffee and, feeling the weight of his gaze on my body, I turn and wink. “I don’t think you want me to go. You just want to watch me leave.”

When Kate suggested I tag along yesterday, she failed to mention that I would spend two hours crammed between Austin and Jackson in the front seat of the pickup. With Odessa’s bulky carseat, there isn’t enough room for both Kate and me to comfortably fit in the back.

Austin’s leg brushes against mine when he climbs in, striking a match just below my belly button. The air’s instantly thick and hard to swallow with him seated so close. Close enough I can smell his spicy, woody bodywash with every inhale.And I inhale. Frequently, shallowly. Just enough to breathe him in and feel the rush through my body without anybody noticing.

“I—uh… need in here.” Austin reaches between my legs, sending a pulse of heat through my prickling skin. A small miracle that I’m wearing jeans and a long sleeve to hide the goosebumps littering my body. His large hand smooths over the gear shifter knob, jamming it into first, and I have to fight to keep my thighs from clenching. His grip on the shifter remains solid, despite his forearm loosely bumping against my thigh when he changes gears. Jackson and Kate are chatting incessantly, but I can’t focus on anything except the sliver of space between us.

By the time we reach Wells Canyon and pull onto the highway, it’s a miracle my lungs have received enough oxygen to keep me alive. When his grip returns to the steering wheel, I allow my knotted hands to unravel and fall to my sides. Praying that the feel of my knuckles against his leg makes his mind reel as much as it does mine.

Exhausted from the adrenaline rush of two hours next to Austin—yet dreading the moment our bodies aren’t in contact—when his truck pulls into the livestock auction parking lot. Dozens of trucks, nearly all with trailers, are parked outside a sprawling, cement building.

“I want my piggyback,” Odessa demands the moment her feet hit the dirt. Uncle Austin obliges like it’s routine, hoisting her up onto his back with one arm, and waiting for her to settle in before he keeps walking.

“Don’t choke me out,” he warns as her small arms tighten around his neck, “or I’ll auction you off.”

She giggles, and giddily kicks her feet. Austin’s hand shoots out to grab her tiny cowboy boot inches before the heel slams into his side. “No kicking either, little miss. I’m not your barrel horse.”

I hide a small smile behind my hand, following them through the heavy double doors. Jackson turns into the front office while Austin, Kate, and I continue toward the sign marked “Sale Barn”.Tiered seating reaches from the rafters down to a small, rounded pen with an entrance on either end. Unsurprisingly, the smell of cow crap wafts through the air. As a testament to my time spent at the ranch, I don’t even scrunch my nose.

“Get all your jitters, scratches, whatever other insane movements you have in your system out now,” Austin says.

“What?”

“Even the slightest move counts as a bid and, if you scratch your nose and make me buy a damn dairy cow, it’s coming from your pay. Get it out of your system now.”

“What am I supposed to do if I’m not itchy now, but I am in ten minutes?” I rub my nose, in case I can somehow bank scratches to be used as needed.

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