Heartless (Chestnut Springs, #2)(27)

Now I don’t feel like being out at all. I want to be home, with him tucked in safely in the room next to me or—as still often happens on weekends—in the same bed as me. Because for all his wildness, Luke is a cuddler. Softhearted beneath it all.

“I think I’m gonna head out,” I say to Willa. “You okay to catch a ride with the others?”

She starts at my change of subject, but she also doesn’t miss a beat and slides her pint glass onto the table, this time touching my knee as she does. “Nah. I’d rather go with you.”

I know she doesn’t mean it the way I’m thinking. That she’d literally rather spend time with me than out with everyone else.

But it’s kind of nice to dream about all the same.





The ride back to the ranch is quiet. Willa watches out the window like the dark, flat fields are super interesting. She went from boisterous and social at the bar to silent and introspective as soon as we got in the truck.

I wish I had the balls to ask her what she’s thinking. But I don’t.

I’m worried she’ll bring up what I said to her on the dance floor. I’m worried she’ll ask me about us again. I’m worried my attraction to her is becoming all too obvious. And I don’t want to become the creepy dad hitting on the babysitter.

Even though she’s twenty-five and clearly isn’t doing this because she needs the money.

“Hey . . .” I say, examining the dark road in front of me harder than is necessary.

Her head quirks in my direction, and in the truck's dark cab, she’s all creamy skin and soft hair.

“Do you mind if we check in at the main house and make sure everything is okay with Luke?”

I don’t want to sound like some insane helicopter parent. I try so hard not to be, even though I’m freaking out internally ninety percent of the time, hoping I’m doing this whole parenting thing right, often wishing I had someone to do it with, to explain my fears and failings to. Instead, I just close my eyes and hold on for dear life. Say a prayer that I can keep him alive into adulthood.

Her features soften, not a stitch of judgment on her face. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Sorry. I know it’s your weekend now. You’re probably sick of dealing with him.”

She chuckles and toes off her shoes before putting one bare foot on the dash. My eyes leave the road for a moment, noting the pink polish on her toes and the delicate bone in her ankle. “Actually, no. I have fun hanging out with Luke. Kinda missed the little fella tonight.”

“Yeah? You’d rather play Dinosaur Ranch than go out with friends for drinks?”

She shrugs, looking out the window again. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve been working in a bar since I turned eighteen. The allure isn’t what it once was. I feel like I’m ready for something new. I’m just not sure what.”

“Did you go to college?”

She turns, offering a saucy wink. “Just the school of life.”

I snort. “Same. But you seem like the post-secondary type. Smart. Wealthy. Well-connected.”

Her head quirks as she assesses me. “That’s funny, in like, a very judgmental sort of way. But I’ve never really enjoyed school. I’m sure if I’d applied myself, I could have done better. But I was always more interested in riding my horse. Or being on the road with my parents. Or learning to manage a bar with my older brother. School is always there if I want to go back. But I’m a firm believer that learning doesn’t always happen in the classroom.”

“I like that,” I reply gruffly, nodding. “And sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Because she’s right. I’ve done nothing but judge her since the moment I first saw her.

And that’s a real dick move.

One she doesn’t deserve.

“Luke and I had a lot of fun researching which plants we could grow this week. I think he learned a lot. I did too. Guitar was a huge hit. Do you mind if we do some horseback riding next week?”

My chest warms at the thought of her planting in the yard with him, showing him an instrument. Skills and memories that will last a lifetime. Giving him undivided attention that he deserves. “Yeah. Of course. He’d love that.”

A pleased smile touches her lips, and she lets out a little humming noise.

“He’s been invited to a birthday party in a few weeks too,” I tell her. “It starts earlier than I can get there. Do you think you’d be okay with taking him and then I’ll come right after work and tag you out?”

“Yeah. For sure. Just let me know where I’m going.” We turn into the driveway and pull up to the house before she adds, “Or leave me a trail of lettuce and we’ll just follow it.”

I shake my head and stifle a laugh as I hop out of my black pickup and bound toward the front door of the sprawling farmhouse. There’s still a warm glow inside, and I see the flicker of the TV through the front porch window.

I open the door and peek in.

“You’re not even going to knock?” Willa asks from behind me. I start, thinking she’d have stayed in the car, and her hand falls to the middle of my back. But this time, I don’t even freeze. I flex my shoulders back, kind of liking the familiar way she touches me. I’ve seen it with Luke too. She’s just an affectionate person.