Heartless (Chestnut Springs, #2)(56)

Something in my chest cracks wide open as I watch them together. Kindred spirits in so many ways.

They turn to leave, and Luke slips his hand into Willa’s. They’re cute together. He’s dressed like a tiny cowboy, and she’s wearing a white, old-school Pepsi T-shirt, a belt that looks more like a chain, and her hair in loose waves down her back.

I imagine her wearing that belt and that belt only, but then my eyes travel down over her torturously tight jeans. The ones that display her ass like it’s the star of the show. The ones that flare out over a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots she borrowed from Summer.

I’m going to tell Summer to keep those on lockdown, because they look too fucking good on Willa.

She looks too fucking good. Period.

And I want to punch someone. Because based on all the turning heads, I’m not the only one who’s noticing how good she looks.





19





Willa





Rhett: Where you kids at?

Willa: Working on ruining our blood sugar. You?

Rhett: Jasper and I just pulled up. Wanna meet near Cade’s truck?

Willa: Sure, we’ll head your way.

Rhett: I’m supposed to tell you to be careful.

Willa: Of what?

Rhett: I think my brother’s words were: she’s clueless that a bunch of dumbass cowboys keep humping her leg when she walks past.

Willa: Cool, cool, cool. I’ll try not to trip while they do.





I wasn’t lying when I told Luke we were getting all the sugar. Being around Cade makes me want to drink, but that’s not an option when you’re taking care of a child. So I lean on sweet, sweet sugar.

“I can’t decide which flavor I like better,” Luke announces from beside me as we weave through the crowd.

“Why choose? Cinnamon sugar and brown sugar don’t need to compete. Mini donuts are a win, no matter what.” I stick my hand out to Luke as we press into the thickening crowd. “Stay close, bud. It’s busy.”

Cowboys as far as the eye can see, right when I’ve realized I’ve only got eyes for one. Over a year of me making jokes to Summer about saving horses and riding cowboys, and I don’t even want the rest of them. I was fine until he took care of me. Held my goddamn hair up and rubbed my back.

I still refuse to accept that people normally do that for their employees. And the fact he did has me overthinking things something fierce because, if I’m being honest, getting turned down is a new phenomenon for me. And I’m a little bit pissed about it. A little bit embarrassed.

A little bit wounded because Cade is such a good man. I’d want more than just sex, and he doesn’t even want that. It’s a rough blow to what I’m realizing is my already fragile ego.

I’ve never considered myself self-conscious, but the other night Cade made some points I keep turning over in my mind. Things about myself I’ve never realized.

“There’s uncle Rhett!” Luke shouts up at me, knocking me off the winding path I got lost on in my mind.

Rhett’s hard to miss with his shoulder length hair and cocky grin, one that morphs into a wide smile when he hears Luke shouting his name and sees me getting dragged behind the boy.

“Hey, little psycho.” Rhett picks up Luke and tosses him onto his shoulders, giving him the best view in the house. He turns to me and nods his head. “Willa.”

“Hi.” I return his smile. I like Rhett Eaton. I especially like him for my best friend. It’s the worst when your friends date someone you can’t stand, but that’s not the case with Rhett. They’re perfect together, and I can’t wait to see their insanely beautiful babies one day. That is, if Summer will ever hammer down a wedding date. Because she’d never do things out of order.

“Hey, Willa.” Jasper pops up beside Rhett, several inches taller and looking like he wishes he were anywhere else but here.

I crane my neck back to meet his blue eyes. They aren’t bright and sparkly, they’re deep and dark, almost navy. “Good lord, what are they feeding you Grizzly boys? Somehow, I missed you being this tall.” He must be at least six foot four.

He smiles, but there’s something pinched about it. “Seems to be a thing for goaltenders these days. I’m lucky I fit the bill, I guess.”

His self-deprecating response reminds me of something I’d say—chalking my skill up to luck or my hard work up to genetics. The difference is, he’s an NHL player and I’m a bartender.

“Let’s head to the bleachers and get a good seat.” Rhett claps Jasper on the back and gives me a nod, and I follow him, Jasper hanging back closer to me. I feel like I’m being escorted by bodyguards. People get out of the way when these guys walk through.

They also stop and stare. Some even say hi.

When we turn up the bleacher steps, Rhett’s head swivels, scanning for a spot. Luke is still on his shoulders, pointing somewhere. Jasper moves ahead of me, long legs taking every other step. But when he glances back and sees me falling behind, he stops on a landing and then opts to take each step. He doesn’t say anything, but I know he’s acutely aware of us all staying together. It’s busy and these country boys are protective as hell.

Only proven further by the way Rhett moves down a row and Jasper sends me in first, opening one arm wide and gesturing me through before following behind me. When we’re seated, Luke is beside me and we’re flanked by two tall men.