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“You’re like sunshine, you know? Sounds cheesy, but it’s true. I always feel so much better when you’re around.” Her swallow is audible. “I’ll be your sunshine anytime, Wyatt.”
My entire being rebels at the thought of letting this girl go. Every single one of my cells screams at me to keep her here, to make her mine. That’s when I know I’m in love with her.
But in my heart of hearts, I know that somehow, over the course of an hour, maybe less, I’ve fallen in love with my best friend. Or maybe I’ve been in love with her all along, and the realization is only hitting me now.
Really, Wyatt got this sunshine thing all wrong. He’s the one who’s the sun. The rest of us just float in his orbit, waiting our turn to bask in his warmth and attention.
I glance at the tattoo of a sunrise on my left forearm. Sally’s remarked on it in passing, but she doesn’t know I got it for her. She also doesn’t know about the other tattoo I got for her, the one on my leg. That one, more than the sunrise, is a dead giveaway of how obsessed I am with my best friend.
Sally loves me as a friend. But I’m in love with her. Big fucking difference.
Wanting her this way—being around her—is killing me. It’s torture. The worst, best, sweetest kind of torture there is.
This girl. Her kindness. Her thoughtfulness. That pretty smile. And the whiskey I know she put in that cider. It’ll be Jack Daniel’s. My favorite. Our favorite. Aw, Sunshine, how could I not fall head over boots for you?
“I have a favor to ask.” I reach for the thermos and refill the cup, grateful for the excuse to not look at Wyatt. “Answer’s yes.” “Let me ask it first.” “Answer’s still yes.”
fucking horndog
“I told you, it’s been a while. Give me a second to remember how this date thing works, all right?” I’m not all right. It’s not all right that she literally can’t remember the last time she was taken on a proper date. Has anyone ever treated Sally Powell the way she deserves? How do I not know the answer to that question?
But it ain’t my place to make that choice for her, is it? Choose me. Goddamn, Sunshine, I’m dying for you to choose me.
A not-so-small part of me likes people thinking Sally and I are together. She’s way outta my league, too smart and ambitious and successful for a ranch hand like me. She’s the kind of good girl who knows better than to mess with Wyatt Rivers. Only she is messing with me, and I fucking love it.
She’s fighting laughter, and I fucking love it. I wanna kiss you so bad it hurts.
“Don’t make me say it. You know, Sunshine. You know I wanna be your guy.”
“Lucky for you”—oh God, oh God, Wyatt is slipping a hand onto my face, using his palm to angle my mouth up toward his—“I’m tight with God, and I’ll have you saying his name often. Eventually though, I’d like you to say mine instead.”
Wyatt Rivers would make a really fucking great boyfriend. Which doesn’t compute because I don’t think the man has ever had a monogamous relationship in his life. Only he asked me not to hook up with anyone else, didn’t he? Which means we are, indeed, monogamous.
“You okay?” she asks softly. “You’re quiet.” Glancing over her shoulder, I see her stethoscope on the ground by her feet. I bend down to grab it and, straightening, I hold open the ear tubes before gently placing the silicon tips into Sally’s ears. I settle the metal bell on the center of my chest. “Not quiet at all, actually,” I say, grabbing her hand and placing it over the bell. Sally’s eyes go wide as she listens to the way she’s made my heart pound. “This is what you do to me,” I whisper. “If you ask me, we make a mighty fine mess, Sunshine.” Then I press my lips to hers, and she smiles
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Could this be love? Could the tattoo, the honesty, the possessiveness, and the really great oral sex add up to Wyatt being in love with me the way I’m in love with him?
I’m down bad if I’m interested in knowing what Wyatt’s laundry room looks like.
“All I do know is that I’m so happy you’re here. I want you to stay. I want to be around you all the time. I want you to be my guy. Not just the guy I have a good time with. But the guy I call, and confide in, and come home to. You’re my favorite human, Wy.”
This means yes, right? This means that Wyatt wants more too? Holy shit, I can’t believe Wyatt wants what I want. I can’t believe he’s not running. Actually, I do believe it. After everything he’s said to me, the things he’s confided, the things we’ve done, I do believe Wyatt is the kind of man who stays.
“Your feelings don’t scare me. You know what does? You keeping everything bottled up in here.” I tap my finger on his breastbone. “So talk to me. I’m listening.”
happiness is not success or big salaries, but community and caretaking and dating cute cowboys.
