Page 19 of Sweet Escape (Whispering Oaks Ranch #1)

Jaxon adjusts his glasses with his middle finger, drawing my attention to his bright green eyes—Evie’s eyes.

Not for the first time, I wonder who this baby will look like.

Will they take after me or Wilder? I can picture a little blonde girl with eyes like her daddy’s, framed with those thick lashes I’m so envious of, or a brown haired boy with eyes like mine and a slight dimple in his chin.

I just know I’m going to love them so much—I already do.

“Congratulations, Son. Olivia. I’m happy for you both.” Russell rise s from the head of the table and claps his son on the shoulder, giving me a stiff smile.

Nobody says anything about my family or mentions the feud with my father, and the rest of the morning passes without incident. I follow Evie around as we clear the table, but she shoos me away when I attempt to help with the dishes.

“Guests don’t do the dishes ‘round here, Livie, and I expect you to be back here every week for family dinner—no exceptions.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Wilder shuts me up with a finger to my lips. “Don’t argue with her, Cupcake. You won’t win this one. Let’s go see Storm.”

My ears perk up when he mentions the dappled grey mare.

He places his hand on the small of my back, his touch searing me even through my thin layer of clothing.

I don’t know what it is about this man that has my body reacting this way, but it's been like this from the moment we met, and it’s only grown more intense over time.

In the entry, Wilder watches me intently as I slip into my well-worn sneakers, his lips tipping into a slight smirk. “Those will have to do for today, but if you’re gonna be hangin’ around the ranch, we’ll need to get you a pair of shit kickers.”

“I don’t intend to be doing any shit kicking.”

“It’s not about the intention.”

Wilder holds out his hand, and I slide my palm into his, shocked to find it feels as natural as breathing now. I stare at his back as he leads the way across the shortcut through the grass, the well-worn path created for convenience.

“Did you know this is called a desire path?” I ask. “It’s when humans make a new route that’s more efficient than the one that was made for them.”

I immediately regret my ramblings. Jake always said it embarrassed him when I would spew weird facts. I hadn’t noticed the nervous habit until he pointed it out, and I’ve been self-conscious about it ever since.

“I knew that,” Jaxon says, intercepting us near the barn. “Actually, animals do it, too.”

“Great. Two nerds.” Griffin leans over the fence to the paddock where I used to take my riding lessons. Jaxon raises a middle finger over his shoulder as he heads into the barn.

“Y’all here to see Storm?”

“Yeah. She still in her stall?” Wilder asks, tugging me along behind him. “She’s been a little out of sorts today.”

“Last I checked. The others have all been turned out.”

The scent of wood, earth, and hay floods my senses as we walk into the surprisingly well-lit space.

There are stalls lining both sides of the barn, all of them empty save for the one at the very end where Storm is pacing back and forth, despite the door to the paddock being left wide open for her to come and go as she pleases.

“Hey, Pretty Girl,” Wilder says, approaching the agitated horse. Her ears perk up, and she immediately stops her pacing, her head coming over the side of the stall. She whinnies and nuzzles into his shoulder.

Same, Stormy. Same.

“You wouldn’t happen to know if she’s been cozying up to Maverick, would you?” Wilder rubs a hand along her forehead, and she accepts the affection with ease. My stomach does a little flip when he praises her for being a good girl.

“You’d have to ask Pops about that. You think she’s pregnant?”

“It’d make a whole lotta sense, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, actually. Now that you mention it, she’s been unusually affectionate lately, then there’s the hiding and pacing.”

“We’d better call the doc. Make Griff do the honors,” he says with a sly grin. “I know how much he loves her visits.”

Jax snorts and h eads back outside to find his brother. Silence falls between us as I step closer to Wilder and Storm.

“You gonna be a mama, Stormy?” Wilder murmurs. “Been waitin’ a long time for this, huh, Pretty Girl?” He rests his forehead against hers, eyes closed as he continues to stroke her jaw. “My Liv’s gonna be a mama, too.”

My Liv.

My bottom lip trembles as his reverent words reach my ears, sinking into my chest where a deep-seated sense of detachment once existed.

I can’t tell if it’s the pregnancy hormones or the man who can so easily unravel me with one simple touch.

I swallow around the lump in my throat in an attempt to keep my emotions from spilling over.

It’s not lost on me that I’m going to be tied to this man forever, and I’m finding I don’t much mind that thought.

Griffin’s enthusiastic curse interrupts the quiet moment, his thundering voice reverberating through the barn. “Angelina’s on her way over. Happy now?” he says, pinning Wilder with a glare, his hands fisted at his side.

“Very. You know she’s the only qualified vet in the area, Griff. You’re gonna have to get used to her being around now that Doctor Briggs has retired.”

“Like hell, I am,” he mutters, storming out of the barn in a huff of anger.

Wilder reaches for me, sliding our joined hands over Storm’s jaw.

My chest tightens. I want to lean into him, rest my head on his shoulder, and soak up this moment together.

Wilder and I aren’t together, and I can’t cross that line.

It’s too soon after Jake’s betrayal to consider something like that.

A while later, a gorgeous woman with striking green eyes strides into the barn. Her dark brown tresses are tied in a low knot at the back of her head, and a green scrub top and jeans hug her ample curves. “Wilder.”

“Angie. This is my—Olivia. ”

My Olivia. I know there was a pause in there, but my heart skips a beat all the same.

It’s the second time in as many minutes he’s said something similar.

We haven’t really defined what we are to each other, and despite the fact that neither of us is in a place to be in a relationship, it still ignites a fierce longing within me.

“Nice to meet you,” she says, a kind smile lighting up her face. “What’s going on with our girl here?” She approaches Storm with a medical bag in tow, reaching in to unlatch the gate. “You keeping a secret, Stormy?”

“Let’s give them some space.”

He takes me out to the paddock where Griffin has Emmy atop quite possibly the cutest golden pony I’ve ever seen, its light blonde mane blowing in the breeze.

Emmy’s holding the reins like a pro while Griff guides them around in a circle.

Her face lights up when she spots us, and she reaches up to wave at her dad.

Attentive as he is, Griffin immediately grabs onto her waist to keep her steady and slows the pony to a stop. “Woah, Em. You gotta keep your hands on the horn.”

He guides her over to the gate, and she all but throws herself at her dad, disembarking from the saddle with little grace. Wilder easily catches her. “Did you have a good nap?”

She nods and affectionately rubs her tiny hand over his beard. She looks at him like he’s her favorite person in the whole world, and he looks at her like she is his world. They paint a beautiful picture—one I’m not sure I fit into.

“Sorry to interrupt.” It’s the vet. Angie, I think—I’m terrible with names. “I can confirm that Stormy is, in fact, pregnant. I’d say she’s about ten weeks along.”

Wilder and I glance at each other, holding back laughter. Apparently, Stormy was getting hers while I was getting mine.

“What’d I miss?” Angie asks, her gaze bouncing between me and Wilder .

Is she purposely avoiding looking at Griffin?

“Yeah, Wilder. Share with the class,” Griffin says, his voice steeped in amusement.

“Liv’s ten weeks pregnant today,” Wilder says, wrapping an arm around my waist, his hand resting on my still soft belly.

“Congratulations,” Angie says. “I’m happy for you, Wilder. Truly.”Angie’s brows draw together, and something unspoken passes between them as she squeezes his forearm. “I’d better get going. Old man Wilson’s got a donkey with pink eye.”

“Thanks for comin’ on short notice, Ang. Drive safe.”

“Anytime. It was nice meeting you, Olivia. Congratulations again.”

I smile softly, and she reciprocates, but it’s forced. When she’s out of sight, Wilder turns to me with that same sadness in his eyes—the one he thinks I can’t see.

He sighs. “Angie was Jess’s best friend.”

The pieces come together to form a devastating puzzle; a picture of grief so pronounced it leaves me breathless.

The sorrow etched on Angie’s face makes sense now, and I feel terrible for having been the cause.

I dread the day word gets around town. It’s abundantly clear Jess was beloved, and I suddenly feel like an interloper.

Without another word on the matter, Wilder says, “Emmy girl, do you wanna go see Storm with us?”

Her face lights up, and she nods enthusiastically.

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, he reaches for my hand, and for the first time, I don’t take it.

I don’t want to lean on him any more than I already have.

I’m not her. I don’t know what I am to him anymore.

Just the woman carrying his oopsie baby, I suppose. It shouldn’t hurt, but it does.

It really, really does.