Page 207 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys

And then I couldn’t fall asleep again.

I was dreading them waking up. But I was also desperate to get this over with.

How would they react?

To what I wanted?

What I needed?

The thought of leaving them killed me.

I took another sip of the day-old coffee that I’d heated in the microwave. It was bitter, despite the teaspoon of sugar. The kitchen clock ticked softly, marking each second that brought me closer to the conversation that would decide my tomorrow.

Setting the mug on the dining table and pushing it away, I folded my arms and rested my head down. I closed my eyes, trying to push away all the worries.

A scratching at the back door made me raise my head almost instantly. I stood up, fairly sure what was on the other side of the wood. Turning the knob, I pulled the door open to let Tripp and Tater pad inside. I trailed my hand down their spines as they entered, smiling. The dogs roamed the property, appearing whenever they wanted, or when they were chasing off a predator. I loved it when they were in the kitchen, curled in the corner of the room.

“You guys hungry?” I asked as they beelined for the fridge instead of their makeshift beds. I obliged, closing the house door, then opening the fridge door. A plate on the top shelf heldraw beef bones. Their favorite. I handed them each one and they happily loped over to their spots.

A floorboard creaked in the living room as I walked back to the dining table after washing my hands. I tensed, fresh anxiety rushing into my system.

"Nelly?" It was Wade's voice, soft and concerned. "You okay, sweetheart?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He moved into the kitchen barefoot, yesterday’s clothes rumpled from sleep, his hair sticking up at odd angles. Something in my chest squeezed painfully at the sight of him.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, pulling out the chair beside mine.

"No," I whispered. "Too much on my mind."

He reached for my hand, his callused palm engulfing mine. "Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. Not until we’re all awake.”

Wade's thumb traced circles on the back of my hand, a silent rhythm that matched the ticking of the clock. I watched the dogs gnaw contentedly at their bones, wishing I could feel even a fraction of their uncomplicated happiness.

"Whatever it is," Wade murmured, "we'll figure it out together."

I wanted to believe him.But what if what I wanted wasn't what they wanted? What if my desire to stay here, to build a life with them, wasn't enough to outweigh my nonnegotiable request?

I had no idea how long Wade and I sat there in silence.

As the sky outside began to lighten with impending sunrise, sounds of movement in the living room flowed into the kitchen, followed by approaching feet.

Wyatt appeared first, his eyes immediately finding mine. Cooper was right behind him, followed by Boone and Levi. All ofthem appeared as disheveled and exhausted as Wade had when he’d first woken. All of them also held wariness in their faces.

"Morning," Wyatt said, his voice rough with sleep. "Seems we're all up early."

"Nelly has something she wants to talk about," Wade said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

I shot him a look, both grateful and terrified that he'd put it out there.

"I'll make fresh coffee," Cooper offered, moving toward the kitchen counter.

When everyone was sitting, five of us at the table and Cooper perched atop the island, I took a deep breath, preparing myself.

Just say the words.

Just push them out quickly, rip the bandage off.