Griffin hasnât fucked me in five days, and Iâm losing my mind. Which is why Iâm gawking out the clinic windows at his perfect ass as he walks a horse up and down the driveway while Mira watches for any signs of lameness.
All I can confirm is that he can wear the hell out of a pair of jeans and that heâs so much sweeter than I ever banked on.
Even though Iâm pissed with him right now.
When we were about to go our separate ways after the annoyingly sweet but fake tropical vacation, he told me he needed a bit of time to work something out. When I asked what that something was, he said heâd tell me once he took care of it.
When I asked what a bit of time was, he told me he couldnât say for sure.
He promised me over and over again that this wasnât the end.
Honestly, his vagueness pissed me off. Which is why I told him not to come around until heâs ready to talk honestly with me. I hate secrets. I hate not knowing. I hate being kept in the dark like Iâm a child or something. And even all that raw pain in his eyes wasnât enough to convince me otherwise.
But I still want to fuck him. Because nobodyâand I mean âis better at sex than Griffin Sinclaire. Plus, I really do understand having things youâre not ready to talk about.
And if Iâm being honest, itâs a lot more than just sex with him. I wouldnât have done it otherwise. I promised myself I wouldnât have casual sex to fill some void inside of me, and I havenât.
The problem is, Iâm getting obsessed. With his dick. With his moody growls. With his commitment to my to-do list. With the soft looks he gives Tripod when he bends down to scratch him behind his ears. Is there anything hotter than a man whoâs a total softie for animals? Because Iâm pretty sure thereâs not. And watching Griffin take in the dirty, malnourished, three-legged mutt and love him so completely could make me cry.
He stops to talk to Mira after trotting the horse back to her, and when she moves along the filly, running her hand over her ribs as she goes, Griffinâs head snaps up. He glances my way, like he just I was scoping him out. Our eyes find each other like itâs the most natural thing in the world, like weâre opposite ends of a magnet. Drawn together in the most intrinsic of ways. Even if we shouldnât be.
When he looks at me like this, none of that other stuff matters. It feels like the world put us in each otherâs paths that night. It feels like my brother bought his farm so weâd be a part of each otherâs worlds.
At the risk of sounding like a woo-woo sap, thereâs something about us that feels written in the stars.
I donât look away and neither does he. He just scowls at me, and it makes me smile. He might act like a grizzly bear, but I know whatâs underneath. Iâve felt him soften beneath my palms. Iâve heard the loving things he whispers in my ears.
Iâm smart enough to know thereâs something holding him back, something heâs embarrassed about. Some demon from his past. But his demons donât scare me. They call to my own. Our wild sides match, our shadowy parts twirl together so easily. Our demons spill out and dance together, like dark plus dark makes light.
I told him once that I didnât know what Iâd have in common with someone my age whoâs lived an average life. That Iâd feel like I was darkening their bright, shiny aura with my shadows.
But with Griffin it doesnât feel that way at all. He doesnât treat me like Iâm damaged. He takes all my little broken bits and mixes them with his own.
And I want more of that. He must see it in my face because his brows drop lower, lips tipping with what someone who doesnât understand him might see as a bad mood. I just see anxiety. I see all the things he wants to say to me but canât bring himself to voice.
I wink at him and turn away, checking the clock as I grab my bag and walk toward the front door.
A week of space is enough for him to freak out. And me, for that matter. Iâm also tired of pretending my vibrator is him.
Itâs time to poke the bear again.
âYou off?â Mira calls out.
I wave, grinning. âYeah. I think Iâm gonna grab a horse and go for a trail ride.â
âGood for you. Between this guyââshe hikes a thumb over at Griffinââand Violet, youâve come along quickly.â Since day one, this woman has been my biggest fan, and I love her for it.
âWell, you know me. Not afraid to work for what I want.â My gaze flits over to Griffin, who stiffens, his scowl only deepening even though I didnât think that was possible.
âIâm so proud of you.â Her eyes twinkle.
Earlier today, I told her my plans about starting some sort of racehorse rescue or rehabilitation program after I finish vet school. Between Miraâs excitement for the idea and the votes of confidence from Griffin and his family, Iâm feeling like this dream is possible. Like I really could do it, like I have a growing number of people in my life who genuinely want me to succeed. And that support warms me in a way Iâve spent years searching for.
Mira looks like she could cry as I stare back at her. Having a baby softened my sister-in-law, and Iâm not mad at it. Iâm happy to soak up any motherly attention that comes my way. Sometimes, I think about the fact we almost lost her. My life would be a lot less bright without her in it. Which is why I wrap her up in a hug and whisper in her ear, âI love you so much.â
She squeezes me tight. âLove you, too.â
When I pull away, Griffinâs scowl has washed away, swapped with an expression I canât quite place.
âLater, Sinclaire,â I mutter as I turn to leave.
âWho are you riding with?â he bites out as soon as Iâve taken a few steps away.
âNo one. I like my space.â
âNot safe.â
I peek over my shoulder because I donât want to miss this reaction from him. âThanks, Dad.â
I almost laugh when that one spot on his jaw pops. Iâm sure heâs grinding that cinnamon gum to absolute shit between his molars.
âMeet me at my house. You can ride Spot. Iâll take one of the young ones that I have over there right now.â
I stop, turning back to them, not missing the ways Miraâs eyes move between us, no longer sparkling with emotion. Now itâs amusement.
âI just said I like my space.â My tongue swipes against the back of my teeth, trying so hard not to crack a smile.
âHeard. Just donât care.â He shrugs, horse in hand, and walks away with the last word, annoyed masculine energy radiating from his shoulders.
But me? Iâm not annoyed, Iâm grinning because I just won myself some alone time with Griffin Sinclaire.
Mira brushes past me, doing a poor job of smothering the smile thatâs playing across her face. She puts a good chunk of space between us before she mutters just loud enough for me to hear, âMy God, Little Dalca. I daresay that man has it bad for you.â
And all I can think is Now we can have it bad for each other. I hope heâs as fucked up over me as I am over him.
âYou saddled my horse for me.â Griffin gives me an impassive look as he stares at the paddocks behind his house.
âDo you want to check that I did it properly?â I lean up against the fence and quirk an eyebrow at him. âRuin my alone time boss me around?â
His lips twitch but he doesnât smile, just dusts his hands together and heads toward the leggy bay thoroughbred in the paddock beside Spot. âNo. I taught you how. I know you did it right. Ready?â he asks, tossing his cap on the ground and pulling a helmet on.
I nod and turn away, because if I donât, I will seriously fucking throw myself at the guy, climb him, tackle him to the ground, and have my way with him right here and now.
Save a horse, ride a cowboy and all that.
âYup.â I chicken out on that and bridle Spot before lining him up with the fence and hopping on. I urge him forward with a gentle squeeze without looking behind me and head down the driveway. The only way I know Griffin is following is because I can hear his horseâs hooves clopping behind me.
âThis way.â He gestures down a wide path that winds between the trees, pulling up beside me as we head out for a leisurely walk. Spotâs head is slung low, swaying back and forth in a relaxed fashion. Griffinâs young colt is clearly nervous, his head held high, eyes bugging out of his skull, ears swiveling all over the place.
âYour horse is tripping balls, Sinclaire.â
âStop calling me Sinclaire. Thatâs what the guys on my team called me.â
âSo?â I shrug.
âIâve been inside of you. Youâre not one of the guys.â
I shrug again. âMight as well be. Youâve been treating me like one.â
âNadia.â His tone is warning, but I donât care. âDonât say that.â
A bird swoops past, and his young horse flinches.
âWell, stop acting like a grumpy old man.â
âI told you I had something I needed to work out.â
âFor what? You really didnât tell me shit. And Iâm just supposed to sit around here twiddling my thumbs, all fucking confused and horny, waiting for you to do whatever cryptic bullshit youâre doing?â
He growls and hops off his horse when we hit a long metal gate that leads into a big open field, unlocks it and swings it wide.
âAre we back to not talking? After ?â I scoff, agitation rising in my chest as I urge Spot into the open field, not a clue where weâre going. Based on the sunâs position, this must be the land that separates Gold Rush Ranch from my brotherâs farm, Cascade Acres.
Griffin gets back onto his horse as it skitters sideways. His big palm slides up its neck and Iâm momentarily jealous. I want those hands on But he needs a couple of weeks for .
He murmurs gently to the horse, taking me back to the night we spent together. The words he murmured against my skin. The way he claimed me as his.
, he said. But now heâs pushing me away? Again? Ignoring me.
And it enrages me.
âDid last weekend not mean anything to you?â His head shoots up like Iâve just slapped him. âJust tell me! I canât stand not knowing. I mean, Iâm supposed to be the immature one here, right? Can you just fucking tell me something? Anything? You? Me? Us? This land? Are we fucking ?â I wave a hand as I shout the last word, my agitation boiling over.
And itâs that flailing motion that sets his horse off. The bay rears on his hind legs before scooting to the side, and I distract Griffin just enough that heâs caught off guard. His body topples to the ground with a heavy thud. I swear it rattles my bones just watching it happen. I hear my scream, but it doesnât sound like mine. It sounds distant, drowned out by the pounding hooves of his horse taking off and blood rushing through my ears.
Heâs flat on his back when I jump off Spot and race to his side. I know barely anything about his head injury, but I suspect that a good thump to the head is not what he needs. I think of how adamant he was about wearing a helmet and am immensely grateful heâs been a stickler for safety.
âGriff. Griff.â I fall to my knees beside him, hands clutching at his shirt, feeling his firm, warm skin beneath my hands. âGriffin!â I sound shrieky and frantic as I check him over, straight into his dark eyes.
He bursts out laughing.
âAre you okay?â I pant out, trailing my hands over his beautiful body as though I could heal whatever hurts just by running my fingers over it.
And the asshole just laughs harder.
âGriffin! Are. You. Okay?â I swing a leg over him, straddling his waist. Because clearly the idiot is fine. Unless he doesnât stop laughing. Then Iâm going to be the one to hurt him. Why does someone so fucking annoying have to be the only person Iâve ever been so consumed with?
âNo.â He laughs, scrubbing a hand over his face. âIâm in love with a fucking crazy person.â
I still. His body shakes beneath me as I struggle to wrap my mind around the words that just spilled from his lips.
âWhat?â The blood drains from my face.
He sighs and places his hands over mine, which are now braced against his pecs. He gives me a little tug, clamping me onto him and forcing me to meet his eye. âIâm not telling you anything because Iâm embarrassed about what Iâve done in the past. And I donât know what to say. You deserve so much fucking better than me. Iâm still trying to wrap my brain around it all.â
He shakes his head, huffing out a disbelieving breath. âIâve spent years scaring people away by being a growly asshole. And then you waltzed in, and even when Iâm on my worst behavior, when other people back away slowly, you just sit there smiling. Looking at me like I hung the fucking moon. I want to that look. And right now, I donât. Right now, you wouldnât look at me like that. I want to lay it all out for you. I want to make a plan to show you Iâm serious. Because what you deserve. So just let me work this out in the only way I know how, okay?â He rolls his lips together, no doubt taking in the shell-shocked expression on my face.
âAnd also, I own this land. I held onto it when I sold the main farm to your brother. So, we arenât trespassing.â
The scent of sweet grass swirls around me. I gaze out over the beautiful rolling hills, the greens, the golds. There is so much about this man I donât know. Heâs so secretive, so restrained in so many ways. So accustomed to doing everything on his own. But my heart doesnât seem to care. It practically beats out of my chest for him.
I should be more scared about what heâs just told me. Whatever shit heâs hiding sounds problematic. But Iâm a little hung up on another part of what he just told me, and deep down, I know thereâs very little he could do to scare me off. âCan you back up to the part before that?â
His full lips quirk up. He looks so fucking good when he smiles. Younger and more carefree. Itâs worth waiting for, worth all the grumpy glares in between when I get a peek at this version of him. This version that only get. It feels so good to have something all my own.
I want Griffin to be all mine.
All the scowls, and growls, and smiles. All the hickeys. A streak of possessiveness flashes through me as I let my mind wander to other women who have gotten those things from him in the past. I want to claw their eyes out. Few people have truly loved me in my life, and Iâm so desperate to be told that. To that. If I get it, Iâll never let it go.
âThe part about you being a crazy person?â
âYeah. That part.â
His fingers squeeze mine, and his length thickens beneath me as his gaze rakes over my body, the way Iâm straddling him, before landing back on my face. He looks at me with such heart-wrenching softness that I almost turn to a puddle right on top of him.
âI must be a crazy person, too . . . because I am head-over-heels for you, Wildflower. Please be patient with me.â
In that moment, I realize Iâd wait around forever for another look like that, followed by another confession like that. My heart swells in my chest, and the bridge of my nose tingles as the thumping of his heart dances beneath our joined hands. Itâs like, as unbelievable as it may seem, I can feel how much he loves me.
Lord help me, I am so far gone for this man. I swore I wouldnât give anyone the power to take me down. But Griffin Sinclaire has been making a liar out of me since the first day I laid eyes on him.