Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Complaining about someone reading my diary sounded like something a child would say.
And I refused to give Trace any reason to dismiss me as a helpless child.
14
TRACE
Wolfe was acting unsettled and nervous that night. It was a stark departure from the relaxed and adorably blushing version of him I’d left hours earlier.
On the outside, he was friendly and smiling. A little reserved in the larger group, which was how he’d always been. But otherwise, seemingly fine.
Except he kept rubbing the far side of his index finger with the top of his thumbnail—a sign of anxiety he’d picked up years ago.
Before leaving Montrose that afternoon, I’d picked up a foldable camp chair so I could sit next to Wolfe around the fire. But now that I was here among his new friends and sitting next to him, it still didn’t seem close enough.
I reached over and put my hand over his worrying fingers. “Would you rather I not be here?” I asked softly. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “No! No, that’s not… I’m glad you’re here.”
I could feel eyes on us, so I quickly removed my hand. “Talk to me. You’re upset about something.”
“I’m not,” he lied, going right back to the little finger movements without realizing what he was doing. “How was the rest of your day?”
There was so much I wanted to say to him—about Fletcher Coe, about how proud I was of his talent, about how the hell he was handling the secrecy and fame—but this was definitely not the place to do it.
“Interesting,” I admitted, trying to relax back into the stiff new camp chair. “I went into Montrose and got some work done.”
His eyes flicked to the fire in the center of the group. “You must be anxious to get back to SERA.”
“Not at all,” I admitted. “I’m happy right where I am.”
Wolfe’s eyes flicked to mine, the mossy green looking striated in the shifting light from the fire. “You always did like camping.”
I laughed. “I’ve just spent the past six weeks living in a tent in subzero temperatures. Believe me, it’s not the camping I’m here for.”
His cheeks darkened, but before he could say anything, a woman about his age snuck up behind him and put her hands over his eyes. She looked familiar, and the only reason I was able to place her was because I’d seen the brightly colored school bus pull in a half hour ago.
“Guess who, babydoll,” she said with a big grin.
Wolfe had frozen at her touch, but the sound of her voice must have been familiar. “Lena!” He stood up and gave her a hug before moving to the woman next to her. “Good to have you back.”
They chatted happily with him before shooting me a curious look.
Wolfe stammered, “Oh, uh, this is Trace. A friend from home. Trace, this is Lena and Imani. They’re in that skoolie over there.”
I gave them a smile and a little wave. “Nice to meet you.”
After they chatted for a few more minutes, the women moved around the ring to settle into their own chairs.
Wolfe leaned over and lowered his voice. “Everyone here knows me as Will. You probably picked up on that, but…”
“No problem. I understand,” I murmured. It was no secret he’d been uncomfortable with being recognized, and it made sense he’d want to be anything other than Jude Marian’s son while on this trip.
He met my eye and smiled. “Thanks.”
I sucked in a breath. Fuck, what that sweet face did to me.
Until now, I hadn’t realized just how much the distance between Montana and California had protected me from temptation. Every time Wolfe and I had been around each other in the past six years had been in the presence of Jude and Derek, which had made it very easy to shove my attraction to their son into the deepest, darkest corner of my mind.
But now that they weren’t here? It was impossible. My attraction to Wolfe Marian flared bright and hot. There was no escaping it…
And I was beginning to realize I might not want to anyway.
“Will!” Brennan called from across the fire, where a large folding table was set with various dishes and a portable grill. “Settle a dispute between me and Thierry about how long to cook this salmon fillet for.”
Wolfe stood to join him when I noticed a new vehicle pull into Wolfe’s own campsite. The pickup’s driver door opened, and the man from the bar stepped out.
I watched Jake’s eyes find Wolfe immediately. There was no trace of a smile on his face, only a look of pure calculation.
Stop being a jealous asshole.
I blinked and tried not to assess the man from a place of significant bias. He was good-looking. Very. And he strode toward the group with confidence.
Jake walked directly over to Wolfe and leaned in to press his lips to Wolfe’s cheek in a greeting that lasted several beats past polite. The stiff canvas of my camp chair creaked as I shifted my weight forward.