Page 36 of Alive and Wells

“It wasn’t great—humans don’t exactly have a thick hide like cattle. The whiskey helped.”

“Now that I think about it, Denny and Red have one too, don’t they? I never asked, but I assumed they’d lost a bet or thought it was a good idea after too many drinks. Does everybody here have one or are you secretly super wild under your mask of responsibility?”

“Just those who stick around long enough to earn it. Me, my brothers, Red… my dad. And I wasn’t always the stick in the mud I am now, by the way. I used to be quite fun.”

She shakes her head with a chuckle, blonde hair sweeping over her shoulders. “Saying you were ‘quite fun’ isn’t very convincing, and I didn’t say anything about you being a stick in the mud. You have a whole ranch to run and people who depend on you. If you acted half as recklessly as some of the guys around here, this place would crumble. It’s admirable the way you take control of everything, even if it makes you a grump sometimes.”

Her hand mindlessly continues stroking my chest, the pads of her fingers tracing the brand’s “W” over and over. A form of witchcraft—the way she seems to be directly accessing my heart.

“You know,” she muses. “I also used to be fun.”

Used to be? She’s constantly cracking jokes with the guys, hanging out by the river, dancing around the kitchen with the girls, and singing in the garden. “You seem plenty fun now.”

“Because I’m making a conscious effort to get back to it. You know, it wouldn’t kill you to do something for yourself sometimes. Lose control. Enjoy yourself… be a bit reckless.” Her fingertips drag across my chest from shoulder to shoulder, leaving a scattering of goosebumps in their wake.

“Yeah?” My eyes meet hers. The warm overhead lighting has the light blue specks in her eyes shimmering. It doesn’t feel like we’re talking about an innocent kind of recklessness right now.

The corner of her lip quirks and she seems to be closer to me than she was even a second ago. I don’t know if she’s moving into me or I’m leaning into her. But there’s no denying how narrow the space has become when her hand, still drawing along my brand, barely fits between our chests.

“You’re a good man, Aus. But there’s no shame in doing things youwantto do sometimes, not just what you think you should do.“

Iwantto kiss her. Rip her jeans from her body and let my towel hit the floor. Wrap those pretty, tanned legs around my waist and carry her off to bed to fuck her until she forgets about the asshole ex. Taste her, kiss every inch of her body, make her come, and then hold her all night long. Fuck her senseless, bring her breakfast in bed, and then spend tomorrow showing her howgood of a manI can be.

There’s no shame in doing things you want to do… sometimes. The same night she received threats from her husband and then cried in my arms? No. It’s not the time for doing anything I want to do.

“I’ll remember that, darlin’.” I smile softly down at her.

She steps back and lets her hand fall to her side, as if she’s suddenly aware how far she’s encroached on my personal space. Not that I care. In fact, I wish she’d get closer. “I never thought to ask when we were branding, but what does the design mean?”

I clear my throat. “The W is for Wells, of course. This shape above it is called a rafter or half diamond. When my great-grandparents created it, they wanted the rafter to symbolize the home they were building here. I don’t think they had any idea they were creating this legacy. They were trying to feed their six children and, back in the day, the government would give you land for free if you were willing to farm it. So they moved here, and that was that.”

“That’s beautiful.”

I’ve never really thought about it, but I suppose it is.

“Come on, do you want a T-shirt to sleep in? Or I can run over to your place and grab you some stuff?” I follow her out of the bathroom and away from the magical, intimate moment between us.

“A T-shirt’s fine. I don’t want to be alone at all, and I definitely don’t want to go outside tonight.”

“Let’s get you to sleep, then. It’s late and I bet you’re tired.”

“What about you?” She yawns, taking a light grey ranch t-shirt from my hands. “You’ve been working all day. Aren’t you tired?”

“Darlin’, I’ve spent many nights keeping watch with a gun in my hands during calving season. I’ll be perfectly fine. You need rest more than I do.”

I’ll be chugging coffee straight from the pot all damn night. But I don’t care.

16

Cecily

Itwasn’tarestfulnight but, if I was going to be awake and anxious, at least I was in a lush king-sized bed that smelled like Austin’s spicy, cedar-scented body wash. I might have briefly breathed in his pillow, trying to work up the courage to ask him to join me. If only so I could have the same comfort he gave on the couch. I’m lost in that thought, dreading having to face the day, when I spot the candle he bought with me on his nightstand and can’t help but smile.

Slowly opening the bedroom door, I’m somewhat stunned to find him still sitting vigilantly, in an armchair he dragged to a spot by the living room window. True to his word, there’s a rather large gun laying across his lap, which momentarily starts up warning bells in my mind.

Not all guns are bad, Cecily. If he wanted to kill me, he could have a hundred times over.I breathe through the panic until my heart rate slows to nearly normal. As normal as it ever is, when Austin’s nearby.

The rising sun filters through a large fir tree just outside, casting branching shadows across the wood floor and far wall. Similar to my cabin, Austin’s house features log construction and basic amenities. Although he’s lucky enough to have a separate bedroom and a slightly larger kitchen.

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