Page 61 of Buckin' Around

Riley.

At the motel. Ivy is asleep. Good night.

I can feel the fuck-you vibes all the way down the phone line.

Christ.

I thought Stace was hard to negotiate with. She’s got nothing on this fiery little Irish woman. Stubborn ass, she is.

What was the silent exit about? What the hell was that stoney expression on her face masking?

“Spence?”

“Ah, not this time, bud.”

“Got woman problems?”

“Not sure, but I’ll check in anyway. Make sure Ivy’s good.”

Brady leans over, reading the text.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” His eyebrows are raised like I’m the crazy one.

“At this point, I don’t have a choice. I won’t be able to sleep until I make sure she’s okay.”

“We still talking about the baby?” Brady’s face twists in a playful smile.

“Fuck you, Brades.”

“I don’t think fucking me will solve your problem, Spence. Not Irish enough.”

He plucks up his gear bag, presumably heading for his truck. I’m left staring at his receding back as the heat in my airless lungs turns burning.

Snapping my mouth shut, I run a hand through my messy hair.

My body hums to life with the thought of ending my night with Riley. I’m daydreaming out a scenario of meeting her fire, my hands on her face, our mouths mere inches apart. Her body pressed to mine...

“—ockwood?”

Hey, what?I spin back to find Knox pulling off his Tiffany glove, nodding at the ground. “Move it, Cowboy Ken, your glitter is getting all over my gear bag.”

I glance down to find Kade’s gear bag at my feet. I’ve wandered forward in my mindless state. I clear my throat and stalk back to my bag, grabbing it up from the dirt.

“What’s got you rattled?” Logan says, sliding his hat from his face. The clown makeup and his ridiculous painted-on oversized smile is smudged, making his face look deranged.

Or maybe it’s me.

Catching feelings for the live-in nanny who’s leaving for Northern Ireland at the end of the year is not exactly smart.

But nobody has ever accused me of being that.

My stomach is in knots as I stand outside room twenty-four at the Highway Motel in Marwayne.

Riley’s car is parked in the spot outside the door. The front-facing window to the room is lit with a dim orange light. Most likely the bedside lamp she’s left on in case Ivy wakes.

I can’t go back to the event grounds. I can’t go to sleep knowing something has her upset. I need to make sure they are both alright.

I raise a fist to the door, but I don’t make contact with the hard surface before it opens six inches. I slide the hat from my head and wait.