Page 32 of Untruly With You

“It’s been amazing,” I tell her. “You know, I’d love to interview you one of these days, too. See the world of a small-town radio station owner.”

“Name the day,” Frankie says. Her gaze softens as she watches Sutton, and a small grin spreads across her cheeks.

“Don’t distract Laine,” Wells says to Frankie. “I was trying to hear what she really thinks about our brother.”

“I came at a perfect time, then,” Frankie says, her eyes still on Sutton. When he sees her, she waves him over. “But first! Tell us about how you first met.”

Wells groans at the cheesy question, but he stays at my side, obviously curious despite himself.

“Go ahead,” I say, waving a hand at Sutton as he approaches.

He’s quiet for a moment, and I imagine he’s trying to fabricate some grand, romantic story. When he finally starts talking, he keeps his burning gaze trained on me. “I first saw Laine Rodriguez when she barged into class late. She was wearing a Barbie-pink turtleneck, a matching hat, and this rainbow plaid scarf. Whenever I looked at her, she was twisting her rings around or mindlessly fiddling with the frayed edges of her scarf or pants.”

My mouth opens into a shocked, wide-mouthed smile.How does he remember all this?

“I was annoyed at first,” he continues, a glint in his eyes, “because I hate when people are late to class. She wanted me to tutor her, but I said I didn’t have time. The next night, Laine showed up at a date-auction fundraiser I was volunteering at. She paid three hundred dollars for a date with me—”

“Almostthree hundred dollars,” I correct.

“You can imagine my utter heartbreak when I discovered Laine didn’t actually want to go out on a date with me and insisted it was just for tutoring.”

I roll my eyes, and Sutton bites down on a smile.

“We spent hours at her apartment that night. And aside from her being beautiful, which I was already more than aware of, Laine was also funny and charming and had this incredible ability to make me want to open up to her. Herpresence was—is—intoxicating. We’ve spent almost every day together for three months, and each day is better than the last.”

My smile fades a bit. Sutton’s too. He looks at Frankie, shrugging as if to saythat’s it.

“Reading all that Shakespeare made you such a romantic,” she laughs, punching his shoulder lightly through the bars of the gate.

I’m still speechless. He portrayed our first encounters so beautifully, even I could be convinced it was the start of an epic love story.

“Ready to call it a day,honeypot?” Sutton asks, grinning mischievously when he tacks on the ridiculous pet name at the end of his question.

I nod, still unsure of what to say.

“I’ll meet you inside. I’m just going to put the foal away.”

“I’ll do it,” Wells offers. He gives me a near-smile, and it transforms his entire face. I was determined to hate Wells after what happened last night, but it's difficult to hate someone who resembles his older brother so much—a brother I’m pretty fond of.

Sutton climbs over the gate, and I really try not to ogle at the flex of his arms or the way Levi’s fit him even better than the chinos he wore in the city. When he’s on the ground, he reaches for my hand. I can feel the calluses already rising on his palms just from one day back at Silver Ridge. Frankie’s and Wells keep their eyes on us, even as Sutton places a finger under my chin and lifts it up, brushing his lips against mine in a sweet, simple kiss.

There’s that thin mountain air again, making me feel lightheaded.

“Come on, you two,” Frankie says, grabbing my other hand.

We walk, a chain of three links, back to the house.

“Wells sure seemed happier back there,” I say once we reach the back porch.

Frankie giggles. “I think it might have something to do with seeing you two together.”

“Right, because Wells has always been a real Cupid,” Sutton quips.

“I’m sure it’s more about him feeling a bit more confident that you aren’t going to steal his bride within the next two weeks,” Frankie says, holding the back door open for us.

“Speaking of,” I say, “when will I finally get to meet…” My words trail off as I lay my eyes on the woman in the kitchen.

Cassidy.

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