Page 46 of Wanting Wentworth

All I know is that if you really loved him, none of those things would matter. I wouldn’t matter and I do. You can deny it all you want but there’s something between us. My grandfather would’ve called it a spark and I’d bet every dollar I have that you’ve never felt it with the son of a rancher you’re about to make the mistake of marrying. I’m not saying you’re in love with me, Sunshine—how could you be? You never gave me a chance... what I’m saying is that you’re not in love with him and whatever your reasons are for marrying him, they aren’t good enough to throw your life away.

Went

p.s. just in case you’re wondering—I would have. If I woke up to you naked in bed with me and begging to be fucked, I would’ve thanked my lucky stars and fucked you so hard, you’d still be thinking about it, twenty years from now... and so would I.

Setting the notebook on the table with rest of them, I toss the pen on top of it. Standing up to go inside, I change my mind. Instead, I turn off the lights and close the front door before returning to my seat. Settling back into my chair, I sit in the dark, watching the way the full moon skims and ripples across the surface of the water.

I’m a sound sleeper.

Like too sound. Nothing wakes me up.

Nothing.

So, I don’t know what woke me up. Why my eyes are suddenly wide open and my heart is hammering in my chest, I don’t know—but they are and it is.

Lifting my head from the back of the chair, I find myself on the front porch where I must’ve dozed off, lights off and the front door shut in a half-assed nod to the warning Kaitlyn gave me the first day I was here.

Falling asleep on the front porch with the lights on and the door open is a great way to get mauled by a bear.

Reaching up to swipe a rough hand over my face, I move to stand, intending on taking myself inside and upstairs but the sound of tires crunching on gravel stops me in my tracks.

Instead of moving toward the front door, I allow instinct to push me back, deeper into the shadows of the house and away from the sudden splash of lights thrown across the porch.

Headlights.

I watch as a tricked-out King Rancher cruises past the house, across the driveway, to continue down the narrow dirt road I take on my daily walks around the lake.

Staring after the truck, heart still pounding in my chest, I tell myself that I’m wrong. That I didn’t see what I think I saw. That I’m just being weird and pathetic. Not processing my emotions half as well as I think I am.

Because I saw Kait, face pressed against the glass of the passenger side window. Her eyes closed like she’s sleeping. Behind the wheel was the shape of a man.

As soon as the truck is passed, I step out of the shadows and watch while its glowing taillights shrink in the distance, disappearing behind the screen of trees that guard the west side of the lake.

Leave it alone.

Stay away from her.

She’s obviously found someone else to scratch her itch.

The thought curdles in my belly. Tightening the hinge on my jaw and the clench of my fists.

Leave it alone.

Stay away from her.

I turn away from the driveway and am halfway across the porch, intent on going inside and putting myself to bed when I hear it.

Another voice—one I’ve never heard before—this one telling me to do something completely different.

Go after her.

I barely take the time to pull my boots on before I’m down the porch steps and following after them.

TWENTY-FIVE

Kaitlyn

Brock brought me flowers.

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