And then I lie here, staring at the ceiling, replaying that look on her face.

And feeling sick to my stomach.

* * *

“I’m so excited! Luke exclaims as we pull up to the rodeo grounds a few towns over.

“Me too.” Willa turns a smile into the back seat of my truck. She rode with us today because Luke begged for us to all drive together. He’s oblivious to the tension between us, the slight pang of heartache and missed chances.

In another lifetime, we might have worked. Or we’d have had a fling. But I know I can’t have her and not keep her—it’s just not the way I’m wired. And I know she doesn’t want to be kept.

We’ve been dancing around each other for over a week. Polite but slightly uncomfortable. Professional and friendly but less playful somehow.

She hasn’t texted me about her panties, and I wish she would. She spent the weekend at Summer’s, and I wish she hadn’t.

I’m a fucking mess. And now I have to do cowboy-showboat shit because I played a stupid game of truth or dare with Willa and was too dumbstruck by the outline of her pussy to say no.

“You’re going to win, Dad!”

I snort. Probably not, but I don’t tell Luke that. “Thanks, pal. With a fan like you, it’ll be hard not to.”

I pull into a spot where it’ll be easy to unload my horse. My ranch horse that Willa and Luke spent all week grooming like she’s a show pony. Her dark, speckled coat is glistening. There’s not a tangle to be found in her mane, not a burr in her tail. I think they even put oil on her hooves. I’m not sure that Blueberry has ever looked this good in her life.

With my rig parked, I risk a glance at Willa. “You good?”

Her lips roll. She doesn’t mean it to be seductive, but every little thing she does feels like a missed opportunity now. Those lips should be mine. On mine. Wrapped around my cock. Moaning my name.

“Yup. All good. We’ll”—she hikes a thumb over her shoulder—“head out and look around. We’ll be back in time to watch your run.”

I nod before gazing at the sea of people, thinking of how my life might have been if things had gone differently. Would I be here? On the road? Penning and chasing buckles?

“Can we get ice cream?” Luke calls as he flies out of the back seat.

“Yeah, we’re getting every sugary thing we can find because it’s still before dinner,” Willa deadpans as she gets out of the truck, and I know she said it just to pester me.