Page 49 of Wrecked for Love
“You’re going?” she asked, her voice soft.
“Yeah,” I said as I helped her climb back into bed. “You working today?”
“Yeah. Starting at midday. I’ll be finishing late though—helping Paul with the stock take. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I nodded, though deep down, I felt a twinge of disappointment. As much as I wanted to spend another night wrapped up in her, I understood. She had her life, and I had the farm to run.
“Okay, sweetheart,” I said, leaning down to kiss her.
“Sweetheart, huh?” A glint shone in her eyes.
I smirked. “You’ve lost your spicy edge.”
She let out a soft coo, stretching luxuriously under the covers, her body tempting me to crawl back in. Honestly, she could never lose her spicy edge. She’d always be my Chili Pepper forever.
As I stood up to leave, I glanced back at her one last time—at her tousled hair against the pillow, her sleepy grin. It was hard to walk away, but I knew she’d be waiting for me when the time was right.
I climbed into my truck, and the engine rumbled to life as I drove back to The Lazy Moose. The sun was just beginning to rise. By the time I pulled up to the barn, Hank and the boys were already there, shooting the breeze.
As soon as I stepped out of the truck, I could feel the teasing coming from a mile away.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Hank called out, grinning wide. “Didn’t think you’d make it back this early.”
The guys hooted, clearly ready to give me hell.
“How’d it go, El? Did you woo her with your ‘bull-wranglin’ charm?’” Tucker asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Oh yeah,” Hank added with a smirk, “heard nothing says romance like spooning while keeping one eye on a loose bull.”
They burst out laughing, and I just shook my head, playing along. “You boys think you’re real funny, huh?”
“Well, after last night’s rodeo with Diesel, we just figured you might’ve decided to go wrangle a different ‘wild beast,’ if you know what I mean,” Hank shot back, and they all howled with laughter.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help grinning. “Y’all can rag on me all you want, but if you were in my boots, you’d still be there.”
“Spoken like a man in deep,” Tucker said, shaking his head.
The ribbing went on for a good while, and by the end of it, they’d teased me about everything from my truck’s suspension needing extra work to whether I’d need a new pair of boots for all the “romantic getaways.”
Later that morning, the livestock officer came by to inspect the pen, but I could tell he wasn’t taking it too seriously. He poked around, examined the gate, and even gave Diesel a good long look.
“I don’t see any real signs of tampering,” he finally said.
“Look at that scar! It’s from a whip,” I insisted. “Someone hurt him, and it sure as hell wasn’t us.”
“Honestly, it looks like your bull just got riled up and damaged the gate himself. Probably hurt himself in the process.”
I clenched my jaw but let it go. “Right. I’ll make sure we install a sturdier lock.”
“Good idea,” he said, clearly ready to be done with it. “If he’s that strong, you’ll need something reinforced.”
I nodded, watching him drive off, his reluctance to investigate leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I didn’t like the feeling that something had been missed. But for now, I’d have to let it slide.
“Hank,” I called over, “get the boys to reinforce the gate. We’re gonna need a lock Diesel can’t tear down in a fit.”
Hank gave a nod, but I could see the same concern in his eyes. “On it, boss.”
One of the men stayed behind to handle the gate while I let Hank and the boys lead the herd, the dogs sprinting ahead to keep everything in line. I turned back with my best boy, Koda, needing a quieter day. We headed back to the spot where Claire and I had dinner, and as I cleaned up, my eyes landed on the wine glass. Her lipstick mark was still there, faint but unmistakable.
