Page 44 of Up in Smoke (The Bunkhouse #3)

TRIPP

“That should do it.” I swipe my hands together and admire our handiwork on Gage’s truck.

“Where’s the keys?” Heston asks.

“Glove box.”

“There are fifteen boxes of condoms stuffed in the glove box.”

I smirk and put my hands on my hips. “I know.”

I toss the last empty can of shaving cream in the truck bed as we turn toward the barn. I’d have made it to the reception sooner if I could have, but this has kept us busy since the ceremony ended.

I know she’s in there. I saw her walk through the doors ten minutes ago while we were trashing the getaway car.

Every natural instinct in my body is on high alert the moment we step inside the barn. It’s a small wedding, but there’s still a good-sized group of people milling about with drinks in their hands. The hum of music and laughter is fun and all, but I’m more interested in finding Mesa.

Heston peels off toward the wedding party table as I stroll through the crowd. When I see her seated at a table alone, I stop and lean my back against the wall. My hands find my pockets, and I cross one boot over the other, watching her.

Logic tells me to stay focused on her face so that I can figure out what she might be thinking.

It’s impossible to ignore the exposed skin on her shoulders, though.

The slight dip at her waist. The smallest hint of cleavage.

Even the soft skin on her neck draws me in because I know how it feels and tastes.

She sits tall, like always. Shoulders pulled back. Chin level.

The only thing different about her is the way she did her makeup. It’s not over the top, but there’s a sultry smoke around her eyes that’s not just pretty. It’s fucking devastating. I’m gutted just staring at her, and I’m not sure a pack of wolves could keep me from getting closer.

My back lifts away from the wall, but someone walks up to her before I fully pull away to stand. I fix my face into a scowl.

If I had to fistfight, Dax would not be my first choice. I can hold my own, being as scrappy and quick as I am. But he’s just big . If it comes down to it, I might need backup. Just in case.

Dax takes the seat next to her, and when she smiles, my heart stops.

With the reception in full swing, passing guests block my view, and I’m forced to lean to the side every five seconds to keep an eye on the scene.

The lights strung across the beams above cast a glow over their table.

They talk. She squints. I replace my frown with a smirk because I don’t think she’s buying what he’s selling.

Either way, he’s fucking dead.

I glare at Dax like he owes me something. The moment he stands, my boots carry me across the room.

“Hey, man. How’s it go?—”

Not now, Keith. I turn to him for a split second, but then I keep walking. “Good to see ya. Sorry, little preoccupied.”

When I look back at the table, they’re gone, and I start to panic. I whip my head around the entire barn until I find them on the dance floor and adjust my direction.

I’m ten steps away when she lays her hands on his arms.

Five steps, and he pulls her closer.

Two steps, his hand is moving up her open back toward her neck, and I’m seething.

I nearly bump into Mesa when I finally come to a stop. With a death stare, I reach around her and tap him on the shoulder. Hard.

Mesa spins out of his hold instantly, running right into my chest. I place a hand on her hip to stabilize her balance. Dax raises a brow, and I don’t miss the smile he’s holding back. Bastard.

“Beat it.”

He holds up his hands like I’ve got a gun pointed in his face. “Sorry, Tripp. This your girl?”

“Damn sure ain’t yours.”

He laughs and takes Mesa’s hand like he’s going to kiss the back of it in some sort of fake gentlemanly departure. I instantly wrap my fingers around his wrist and squeeze until his pulse rages against my palms, and he loosens his grip.

“Fuck off, Dax.”

He turns and walks away without another word, but his laugh carries over the music and goes straight to my ears anyway. Mesa crosses her arms and takes a step to her left. I cover my face with a hand and let out the breath I’ve been keeping trapped in my lungs since he touched her.

“Hi,” she says.

Her sweet voice pulls my gaze to hers.. She’s so damn pretty that it physically hurts. My step toward her is involuntary, but thankfully, she doesn’t back away.

“Hi, Mace.”

A dancing couple clumsily attempting a two-step bump into her from behind. My arms open, and she has no choice but to fall into them. She stays still for a beat but eventually dips her chin and lifts her arms to wrap around my middle.

I spot Gage over her head by the cake table. He fist bumps Dax, and I close my eyes before I roll them into another dimension. They like to call me the troublemaker, but the only two times I’ve been around Gage and Dax in the same room, I’ve either gotten shot at or damn near started a fistfight.

Scheming fuckers.

Mesa clears her throat and pulls away from our accidental embrace.

“What was that about?”

Something painful stabs me in the gut. Did I just fuck up again? God, I’m not even surprised at this point. Of course my jealous attempt to keep Dax away from her was impulsive. I should have?—

“Tripp.”

“Yeah?” I answer while fighting a losing battle to slow my breathing.

“Are you berating yourself again?”

“I’m—yeah.”

She steps toward me, pulls the brim of my hat down an inch, and shakes her head. “You’re very handsome.”

My lips curve into a smile while I stare down at her full lips.

“I wasn’t even going to finish that dance,” she adds. “Now be a good boy, go get me some food, and stop wishing you hadn’t stepped in like an envious wild beast. It was hot.”

“You’re kidding me. I don’t believe that’s his real name.” Mesa is bent over the table with a napkin over her mouth, trying to control her amused giggles.

My arm is on the back of her chair, and I lean back in mine with a grin and one boot crossed over to rest on my knee. “Swear. It fits him, too. Very sluggish. He’s the only other horse I’ll let you ride besides mine.”

“Bob From Accounting,” she repeats, coming down from the fit of laughter. “Where in the world did Heston come up with that name?”

I suck air in through my teeth and widen my eyes. “He didn’t. That’d be Hattie Jo.”

“Oh,” she whispers. “Well, it’s my second favorite right behind Regal. Do the other two horses have names?”

“Gage rides Lawsuit,” I say with a nod. “She’s a real witch. Warren’s got Shoog, and I swear she sneaks out of her stall to eat an entire bag of feed every night.”

Mesa pushes away her half-eaten plate and sinks into her seat with a smile. Her back lands right on my hand, and I don’t resist lifting my thumb to trace a line on her upper arm.

“I’ll stick with my girl Regal if Bob is ever out of commission.” She fiddles with the fabric of her dress in her lap. “I’m getting ahead of myself. But . . . we’ll go for more rides, won’t we?”

I put both feet on the floor and sit up straight. I have so much I want to say to her, with no idea where to start.

“Let’s go on one right now.”

Her face lights up with a smile. “In this dress I have on? That’d be something.”

“I can saddle the horses up pretty quick, and we’ll be chasing moonlight before the cake’s even cut.” I move to stand, but she grabs my arm and pulls me back down.

“You’re crazy,” she laughs. “I missed having fun with you.”

Her face falls, and I fully turn my body toward her.

I’m vaguely aware of Gage and Blythe stepping to the center of the room for their first dance, but I couldn’t care less at the moment.

My right hand grabs the back of her chair while my left hooks under her seat.

I twist until the chair is facing my direction, then scoot her closer.

I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the way she’s looking at me now. The same way she’s looked at me for some time—like I can’t hide from her the way I hide from myself. Like she sees me, knows me, and there’s no escaping it.

She has no idea how sitting with her like this, just being close to her and hearing her laugh again, has made me feel. My world seems to revolve around just being near her, and my shoulders sink as I’m reminded why I wasn’t able to do just that for the past week.

It’s repulsive behavior to test her like I did the night of the accident, but honest to god, I didn’t even realize what I was doing until she was gone.

I’d unintentionally revealed the worst in me just to see if she’d flinch.

I wanted more than anything to know if wholly understanding me and not wanting me anymore were two inseparable truths.

“I have to admit something I’m not proud of, Mace.”

She senses the seriousness in my voice now and glides her hand softly over mine. Even after essentially separating for a week, she’s trying to ease the pressure pulsing beneath my skin and gifting me with the opportunity to talk to her.

I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to deserve that sort of selfless treatment from her. Even then, I’ll likely die an undeserving man when it comes to being loved by Mesa Riley.

Groveling is new for me, but as we sit here together, every fiber of my being is telling me to lay it all out on the line. I wait for her to nod, albeit sadly, before continuing.

“Last week,” I start, “I behaved like a complete jackass. All you were trying to do was be there for me. I didn’t realize that until it was too late.

It was stupid, unwrapping my worst side like that and shoving it in your face for you to see.

To make you see. That’s not fair, and I shouldn’t have acted that way. ”

“Tripp,” she whispers sadly. The corners of her eyes fill with tears, but they don’t spill over yet. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to admit that. But between the drinks, your dad, and every other jarring thing thrown at you that night, I understand. I know you didn’t mean to?—”