Page 32 of Blood Sweeter than Honey

Heaving a sigh, I lean back in my chair, stretching my neck again.

“Lord almighty, I certainly fucking hope so because god damn I’d hate to see you die alone, and with the way you chase that woman—it’s looking more and more probable. When was the last time you got laid anyway?”

Beau gives me a nonchalant shrug. “Not since Gertie stepped foot on this ranch, that’s for damn sure.”

My jaw drops. “Wait, for real?”

Beau’s brows drop like I’ve just insulted him. “Haven’t so much as touched a woman since I laid eyes on Gertie.”

That’s a far cry from the charming playboy I’ve seen pick-up girls faster than he can drink his damn beer.

“Well, god damn, brother. Good for you.”

“And what about you?”

My responding laughter is completely devoid of mirth. “I think you already know the answer to that question.”

Beau gives me a pitying look. “Seriously, man. Not every woman is likeshe-who-shall-not-be-named.In fact, I’d venture to say, almost none of them are. No matter how… eccentric.”

I’m too tired for this conversation.

“I hear ya…”

“Can’t stay celibate forever.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Can’t I?”

Not if Winnow will have me.

Beau smirks, eyes twinkling like all the secrets of the universe lie behind his amber eyes. “The very nature of this world is change, broski. And it’s about damn time you—and your dick— finally find a good woman to call home.”

It isn’tuntil I return home around dusk, knowing that I’m about to finally lay my eyes on Winnow, that some of the weight on my chest dissipates.

My desire to resist it is waning by the second because I am absolutely powerless to it. Like a drowning man holding his breath, his autonomic nervous system will inevitably take over, causing him to reflexively inhale water.

Intuition whispers incessantly at the back of my mind to give myself over to this—to her. That life will be better than I ever could have possibly dreamed if I just let go of all the fear and apprehension that living in survival mode has taught me to have. It’s like trauma has re-wired my nervous system and I’ve been trying to fix it ever since. Taking care of this land and these animals has healed me in ways I’d never dared to hope, but there’s always been something missing. The sensation that ‘something’ has been a Winnow-shaped hole all along is… mildly unsettling.

That cowardly voice in the back of my mind—the one that’s still wounded and afraid of betrayal and change and the rug being ripped out from underneath me—reminds me of the fact that I barely know this woman. I owe her nothing, and she hasn’t earned my trust. But if I’ve learned anything in life, unless there’s something truly life-threatening, it’s that basing yourdecisions on fear will only ever obstruct the path on which good things travel.

Even if this woman is a little crazy or eccentric, who the hell could blame her after what she’s endured, if those scars on her back are anything to go by? This world needs more gentle, loving hands. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to make a living working with animals.

It’s only a little after noon by the time I get back. The house is quiet. It might even seem empty if it weren’t for what I swear to God feels like an actual fucking cord tying me to the woman that I can viscerally feel on the other side of the house.

Quieting my steps, I approach the bedroom door and listen. Trigger’s claws click against the floor behind me, making my stealth efforts an exercise in futility, especially as he trots in place with excitement—just as fucking eager to see her as I am.

We’re both hopeless for this woman.

With a sigh, I gently knock on the door.

“Come in.”

My brows pinch with concern at the sound of her raspy voice, and I swing open the door, breath catching for no other reason than simply laying my eyes on her.

Is that a flower?

I blink, and the pale pink blossom I swear I just saw in her hair is gone, making me wonder if it was even real, as Trigger rushes over to her.

“Everything okay?”

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