Heartless (Chestnut Springs, #2)(55)

“Yes?” She rolls up onto her knees, facing me.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking at you.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. She has a hard enough time taking herself seriously without me adding to that insecurity.

“Why?” I husk.

“Because I want your attention when I thank you.”

“For what?”

She lets out an exhausted sigh. “Taking care of me.”

I shrug and look away, unable to handle the weight of her stare.

“You’re a good man, Cade Eaton.”

Her compliment has my skin crawling. Maybe I’m just as bad when it comes to accepting praise. But for her, I can be better.

“Thank you. And you’re an exceptional young woman.” I hold her gaze. The air hums between us and everything inside me says to reach for her. To crush my lips against hers, run my fingers through that silky copper hair.

“It sounds like you’re writing my report card.” She leans closer.

But I draw away. Because she’s too damn close, and I’m too damn old—carrying too much baggage.

A report card. I almost feel like I could be.

Swinging my legs over the opposite edge of the bed, I turn my back on her and run my hands through my hair. “Glad you’re feeling better. Get some rest.”

I head for the door and it’s a Herculean effort to walk away from her. One quick turn over my shoulder confirms the disappointment on her face. Resignation.

Two offers in one night.

Two offers turned down.

When the door clicks shut behind me, I realize I’m shutting the door on my chance with the girl sitting on my bed. Because her pride won’t let her ask again. And I’m still too fucked-up over the shit Talia put me through to let myself have her. Too scared to want something that badly, too scared to care about something that deeply.

Too scared to get my heart broken again.

What heart? I chide myself.

I walk straight to her room and crawl into her bed, the zesty scent of her orange body lotion wrapping around me like the sweetest torture.

I take a deep breath and press the heels of my hands into the sockets of my eyes.

And then I lie here, staring at the ceiling, replaying that look on her face.

And feeling sick to my stomach.





“I’m so excited! Luke exclaims as we pull up to the rodeo grounds a few towns over.

“Me too.” Willa turns a smile into the back seat of my truck. She rode with us today because Luke begged for us to all drive together. He’s oblivious to the tension between us, the slight pang of heartache and missed chances.

In another lifetime, we might have worked. Or we’d have had a fling. But I know I can’t have her and not keep her—it’s just not the way I’m wired. And I know she doesn’t want to be kept.

We’ve been dancing around each other for over a week. Polite but slightly uncomfortable. Professional and friendly but less playful somehow.

She hasn’t texted me about her panties, and I wish she would. She spent the weekend at Summer’s, and I wish she hadn’t.

I’m a fucking mess. And now I have to do cowboy-showboat shit because I played a stupid game of truth or dare with Willa and was too dumbstruck by the outline of her pussy to say no.

“You’re going to win, Dad!”

I snort. Probably not, but I don’t tell Luke that. “Thanks, pal. With a fan like you, it’ll be hard not to.”

I pull into a spot where it’ll be easy to unload my horse. My ranch horse that Willa and Luke spent all week grooming like she’s a show pony. Her dark, speckled coat is glistening. There’s not a tangle to be found in her mane, not a burr in her tail. I think they even put oil on her hooves. I’m not sure that Blueberry has ever looked this good in her life.

With my rig parked, I risk a glance at Willa. “You good?”

Her lips roll. She doesn’t mean it to be seductive, but every little thing she does feels like a missed opportunity now. Those lips should be mine. On mine. Wrapped around my cock. Moaning my name.

“Yup. All good. We’ll”—she hikes a thumb over her shoulder—“head out and look around. We’ll be back in time to watch your run.”

I nod before gazing at the sea of people, thinking of how my life might have been if things had gone differently. Would I be here? On the road? Penning and chasing buckles?

“Can we get ice cream?” Luke calls as he flies out of the back seat.

“Yeah, we’re getting every sugary thing we can find because it’s still before dinner,” Willa deadpans as she gets out of the truck, and I know she said it just to pester me.

“Score!” Through the window, I see Luke leap, a fist shooting up into the air over his head. The motion knocks his cowboy hat off, straight into the loose, dusty dirt.

Willa’s head tips back on a laugh before she crouches down and scoops it off the ground, dusting it off while saying something to Luke I can’t make out. Whatever it is, it makes him giggle.

She squats and places the hat on his head, giving it a little tug at the same moment the corners of her mouth pull up into the most infectious smile.

I find myself smiling at them from where I’m still sitting behind the wheel. Luke is grinning even wider. When Willa reaches forward and boops the tip of his nose, I see his smile soften and go a little wistful. He boops her back and they take a moment to just smile at each other.