Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“You’re mad.” Sighing, he threw an arm over his forehead.
“Nah,” I lied as I braced myself to head out into the cold night because God forbid anyone know I spent the night here, where I belonged. “I agreed—hell, I was the one to suggest—keeping things secret. Not your fault that I want to change the rules.”
“I wish I could be different for you.” He sat up to rub my shoulder, but the gesture seared rather than soothed. He wanted to comfort me, yet he refused to give us what we both deserved.
“You could.” I swiveled to give him a harsh look. “Maverick will be back soon. The guest project is gathering steam. If you’re not my boss and we’re just coworkers, why care so much about what people think?”
“I hate gossip.” He gave the same tired excuse, and I groaned.
“You can’t live your life prisoner to what people might think.” I was one to talk, but if I’d learned anything from sobriety, it was that people-pleasing was a slippery slope to losing oneself. Also, Gray kept citing gossip, clinging to that reason above all others, but I saw the fear in his eyes that went far beyond worry over a few rumors. “Gossip isn’t the only thing holding you back. What are you so scared of, Gray?”
He opened his mouth as if to issue a quick denial, closed it again. Swallowed hard. Then whispered, “You.”
“Me?” I frowned. I was the least scary person around, and I’d lie down in the nearest snowbank before I hurt him intentionally.
“You.” He regarded me through sad dark eyes. “You not staying. You’re not meant for ranching life.”
“Wow.” My shoulders sagged as every last oxygen molecule left my lungs. “Way to share how you really feel. I’ve only worked my ass off for months—”
“And you’ve done a damn fine job.” He shook his head like I was missing the whole point, and his agreement only frustrated me that much more.
“I love it here. Why can’t you see that?”
“You say that now.” He glanced away, twisting the covers in his fist, voice going softer and further away. Years away.
“Ah. There it is.” Even though my whole body was crying out to embrace him, I forced myself to exit the bed. I couldn’t compete with the ghosts of his past. Sobriety had shown me that too. I couldn’t make him want to change, but I sure could lecture. “You can’t keep judging the world by your parents. Not everyone from the city is in a rush to get back.”
“Experience says otherwise.” He swung his legs out of the bed to sit on the edge, watching me dress. Not stopping me, despite the clear longing in his eyes.
“Your fears say otherwise, you mean.” I was as angry as I could remember being. I’d stayed calm in the face of the rudest of hotel guests, managed disasters and insults with a smile, shoved down endless irritation for so many years, yet I was powerless to manage my emotions around Grayson. “I’ve been nothing other than trustworthy the whole time I’ve been here. I don’t know how to make you trust me, but I do know one thing. You’re not pushing me away.”
“We can’t go on like this.” He made a vague gesture, encompassing the bed. “You said it yourself, you want more than some secret fling.”
“Oh, I agree. But you’re not chasing me back to LA.” I wagged a finger in his face. “I’m going to stay, and you can look at me every damn day and know how good we could be.” I stalked to the doorway of his room before pivoting to glare back at him. Damn him for not following me. “We could be so good.”
“Adler.” He made my name into a pained plea, but no way was I letting up now.
“You don’t believe me.” I pulled on my boots with shaking hands. “That’s okay. Maybe someday. Good night, Gray.”
I glanced one more time at the bed, memorizing him sitting there, a helpless, lost expression on his face. Twisting his hands in his naked lap, he clenched his eyes shut. Opened them.
“Be safe,” he whispered. He cared. That much I didn’t doubt, and that very caring frustrated me to the ends of the earth. My anger was righteous fuel as I headed into the cold for the short, frigid trek to the bunkhouse. The snow had ceased, which was good because my heart was icy enough.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Grayson
I was a foul-tempered beast unsuited for human interaction. Hell, even the horses and cattle were sick of my mood. Not that ranch life allowed much time for wallowing. Amazingly, the stalls continued to need mucking, the horses seeing to, and the supplies ordering. Despite whatever falling out Adler and I’d had, time marched on. Maverick returned, and he and Adler were deep in the details of the dude ranch project. And if I pined terribly for Adler’s daily presence as a hand, I’d take that secret to my grave.