Slouching his hands on his hips, his mouth opened again but this time, snapped shut, jaw pumping, profile so fine as he gazed into the now six o’clock sunshine. He ripped off his Stetson. His hat hair ruffled on the breeze. She wanted to smooth it with her hands like she did when he slept, toy with it like she’d grown accustomed to doing after a round of lovemaking.
“If you quit, do you lose your contract money?” he asked, plopping it back on his head.
“Heart? You there?” Bill said.
She unmuted the phone and lifted it to her ear, giving Tyler a warning gesture with her finger across her lips then slammed her tailgate. “Yeah, sorry, just packing up my gear for the day. Can you hold for one more sec, please?”
She muted it again.
Tyler raised his eyebrow as if demanding she fess up to stealing the last cookie. She exhaled. Nodded. “Yeah, I forfeit my money.”
“You won’t get paid for what you’ve already done and the expenses you’ve racked up from the tornado damage?”
She rubbed her face now, trying to scour away the frustration. She’d had to purchase the new laptop. Her old one had been just outside of warranty, as it had turned out, so that had been another two grand, but she saved everything she earned. After refusing Julliard, her parents had thought it best that she take her own path in life without their financial lifeline, which was why her avó had helped her with her college applications, and she finally had loads saved.
“It’s just money, Tyler. It’s like water or wind. I can always earn more.” He furrowed his brow but she kept talking. “And I have no other expenses like you have. My house and land in Marfa is paid off. My truck’s paid in full and insurance is now going to pay out on my old one, thanks to you. It’s just me and wherever the wind takes me.”
“Does that make you happy?” The way his voice barked the question implied her answer meant something to him.
What? Her brow riveted. “What does happiness have to do with it?”
“You always seem so carefree, but are you happy, flitting from one place to the next for money? Or are you always runnin’?”
Was he fishing for what she didn’t tell people? For the first time, she wanted to. “I don’t support anyone and I’m never going to have kids—”
“Doesn’t answer my question.”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“It does and you’re Not. Answering. My. Question.”
“You’re interrupting again.”
“’Cause you won’t hear reason. Don’t quit. Finish the job.”
“But your case with Fossyl—”
“Is my problem.”
He rubbed her arms, gripped her shoulders tighter, that same desperate edge to his grip as was in his eyes, as if she might slip through his fingers if he didn’t hold on.
“There you go again, not letting anyone help you,” she scoffed. “Your brothers, or me…”
He huffed. “I don’t want to put your reputation in jeopardy.” His hands slipped up to cup her cheeks, and that look of wanting was written all over his lips as his eyes watched her mouth, as his thumbs caressed her lips, as her stomach jumped with nerves at what he was implying, his touch stoking sparks. If his gaze became any more intense, he could spark a wildfire, which didn’t make sense considering the ice he’d given her in his office.
“Just…” He chewed his cheek, nodded. “Stay.”
She stilled. Closed her eyes at how good his touch felt. Floating didn’t make her happy.
“For how long? For just next week? Or another week to explore that escarpment?” It was too soon to wonder at forever. They weren’t even dating. She’d never met his kids. For all she knew, they’d hate her. Her eyes opened.
He looked pained. “Stay as long as you need.”
“Okay, I can get a hotel so your kids—”
“I wanna date you.”
She froze. Eyes widened as hope dared to blossom in her belly. “How will you tell your kids? What if they hate me?”