Page 35 of Make Me Yours
“Busy,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Yours?”
She nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes sliding away toward Tessa. “The same.”
The simplicity of it stung worse than a jab. I wanted to ask if she’d made the appointment and if she was ready to move forward the way she’d promised. But the words lodged in my throat. If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me. Her distance felt like an answer I wasn’t ready to hear.
Before I could press, she excused herself with a quick smile, turning back to the cake table. Just like that, the space between us widened, sharper than any wall I’d ever run into.
I stood there for a moment longer, gifts and chatter swirling around me, unsettled in a way I hadn’t felt since she first walked into my life.
I drifted back toward the gift pile, trying to look like I was a part of the noise and laughter. Wyatt was pulling at the little bridle on the plastic horse I’d picked out. Charlie sat beside him with the doll clutched to her chest, stroking its head like she knew exactly what she was supposed to do.
At least the toys were a hit.
I was crouched down watching them when Colt sidled up beside me, a red plastic cup in one hand and his easy grin in place. He leaned just close enough that only I could hear.
“Lilly wants to talk to you,” he murmured. “Alone.”
My head jerked a little, and he gave me a look that said,“Keep it together.”
“She’s gonna slide out the back,” he continued, voice low and steady. “You head out the front, make it look like you’re going to your truck. But don’t. Meet her at the stables.”
I kept my eyes on the twins, nodding like we were just two men appreciating kids being kids. “That so?”
“That’s so,” Colt said, straightening as he clapped me on the shoulder.
Then he walked off, leaving me with the weight of his words and a heart beating a little too fast for a kids’ birthday party.
I bided my time, watching Wyatt chew and Charlie squeal, pretending I had nothing better to do. But when I saw Lilly slip out the back door, her beautiful features catching the warmth of the porch light before the night swallowed her, I knew it was my cue.
I took the long way around, out the front door, making a show of heading toward my truck before cutting across the yard and toward the stables, where the real conversation waited.
The stables sat quiet at the edge of the yard, the faint rustle of horses shifting in their stalls carrying into the night. Lilly was there, waiting in the aisle in the dim light, her arms folded like she was holding herself together. When she saw me, she let them fall, and I crossed the space in three strides. Our hug was brief but tight, enough for me to feel the familiar hitch of her breath against my shoulder before she eased back.
“You upset with me?” I muttered.
She shook her head, but her eyes didn’t quite match the softness of her voice. “No. It just feels like… there’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”
Her words landed hard. A dozen questions pressed at the back of my throat, but only one pushed forward—the one I couldn’t ask. About the doctor. About whether she’d gone, whether we were really moving forward like she’d promised. But the words stuck there, too sharp for this fragile moment.
Instead, she touched my arm, steadying me in a way she probably didn’t realize. “Come by my cabin tomorrow morning. Sunny misses you. And…we’ll talk then.”
She rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to my cheek, lingering just long enough for heat to spark through me. When she pulled back, her eyes searched mine for a beat, then she turnedand slipped out into the night, her footsteps fading toward the laughter and music of the house.
I stood there alone, the echo of her lips still burning on my skin. Tomorrow might bring me closer to her—or it might pull us further apart.
Either way, I knew I’d be there.
Chapter Fifteen
What Comes Next
Lilly
The smell of bacon filled the kitchen, but my nerves were too frazzled to feel hungry. The skillet popped and hissed behind me, the sound filling the silence that had stretched since sunrise. I’d been up for hours, pacing between the counter and the window like a woman waiting on bad news.
I was the one who’d told him to come. Last night, in the Bennet’s barn, it had sounded simple enough. “Come by tomorrow morning. We should talk.” I’d said it like it was no big deal, like I hadn’t spent a few days thinking about how he’d looked leaning against the stall door, hay dust on his Stetson, that half-smile tugging at his mouth.
Yesterday, I’d told myself it was practical. There were things we needed to clear up.
