Page 108 of Wildflowers & Whiskey

I don’t know what diva gets into me, but I strut in my cowboy boots, up and down the stage like it was a natural thing. And the crowd loves it. I love the feeling of being somewhere loud, feeling alive and being present in the moment. I feel happy.

I remove my cowboy hat from my head, swinging it in circles around my head as I head to one corner of the stage.

“Twenty dollars,” someone calls.

“Thirty,” from the other side of the room.

“Forty-five.”

The bids start flying. I grin as they climb past a hundred. The owner keeps working the crowd, trying to squeeze out a little more. Then, from the corner of my eye, I catch Naomi standing near the edge of the bar. Watching me with amusement plastered across her face.

She lifts two fingers casually. “One-fifty.”

Nothing comes after, just the noise from the rowdy bar filling the space.

“Sold! To the organiser herself.”

The previous bidder—a cute blonde who definitely ain’t from ’round here—lets out an exaggerated pout.

I look over at Naomi, who lifts her shoulder, giving me the most fake innocent smile a man has ever seen.

That’s what she meant by I got you.

I shake my head, laughing, while the owner announces the next man to come on stage. But I don’t hear who it is, because all I can focus on is how damn good I feel in this moment.

A high that I hope will run for the rest of the night.

Chapter Forty One

Wade

This is the last place to be right now.

Sat at a rowdy bar with happy people.

No, thank you.

But I'm here, and I've got to deal with it. Well, at least I got some decent whiskey. Served on the rocks in a crystal glass, just like God intended. Though I better not have too much, not when I am in such close proximity to Maeve. Because I know that's all it will take before I break down and tell her how hard the days have gotten without her near me from start to end.

God. At this point I would get on my knees and beg her to stay.

And like some fucking fool, I’m sat watching her on the dance floor. She’s cheering and whistling for the other men on stage, beaming again for the first time since our talk. As much as I love seeing her like this, if she dares to raise her hand to bid on a single one of them, I will throw her over my shoulder and carry her straight out of here without a second thought. I wouldn’t care who sees. While she is in my town, she is mine. Regardless of what she’s decided, I couldn’t bear to see her with someone else.

It’s not like she doesn’t want me. She told me as much, and it makes it so much harder to know that the guilt of hiding everything from Colt is what makes her deny her—us—from what we have.

Temporary, that’s what we agreed. Yet, she has managed to inject herself into our lives with such ease, become a fixture of the team, of my mornings and my evenings, that I know I was stupid to hope this could last longer. The same hope that drove me to finally file for divorce and make a plan to make Maeve stay. Extend the ranch scheme under the guise of needing more support, even fund her visa extension myself and build her own cabin if she really wanted. We would’ve worked out the rest later, but Maeve Callaghan belongs on Meadow Bell Ranch.

But come next week this time, she'll be gone.

And she'll be taking my heart with her.

Bryan bulldozes into my side, nearly knocking the whiskey clean out of my hand. I can practically feel adrenaline radiating off him from his time on the stage.

“God, that girl.” His eyes land on the fiery redhead across the room, directing me to look with a subtle nod of his head. “She made the first bid on me, did you see?”

“Bryan.” I roll my eyes, not that he even noticed. “She bid one dollar.”

“Still a bid.”