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Still, he’d tried to make it into something more. That bastard. He’d tried to make it more, and he would’ve hurt her if she’d believed him.

Her gut instinct had been the last thing she’d been able to trust in this world, and now that was gone, too. First her pride in her own strength, now the basest of animal instincts. She had nothing.

She watched him move the horse back to the barn. Apparently he could ride again. Apparently he was just fine. Had that been another lie?

Despite all her resolutions about starting a new life, Grace wanted to kick something, hit something. She wanted to scream and rage and ruin.

But not here. She glanced around, relieved that no one was watching her, because the violence must show on her face. She caught sight of Cole disappearing behind the barn, and Grace moved in that direction.

Her rushing breath seemed to take her over until it was all she could hear or feel. The air straining through her throat, her lungs fighting to make space for it. There wasn’t enough oxygen in this godforsaken place. The air was thin and meaningless. Despite her light-headedness, she walked on until she reached the barn.

When she turned the corner, she saw him standing next to his horse, his wide back facing her. His shirt was wet and tight against his muscles. His legs wrapped with dark leather chaps. He looked invincible.

Grace’s rage swelled up until she could feel it saturate her skin and then expand beyond it. She was cocooned in it now. Shielded from anything else.

“How long have you been fucking her?” she snarled.

His head rose and he glanced at her over his shoulder. He didn’t bother turning around. In fact, he turned back and pressed his forehead to the leather of the saddle. “Go away, Grace.”

“How long?” she repeated.

“It’s none of your business.”

“You bastard.”

“What the hell do you care?” he asked, his voice strained.

“I don’t care, Cole. I’ve never cared. But I don’t like being lied to. I refuse to be one of those stupid girls, you understand? You were the one trying to make it into something more. What if I’d taken you up on that? What if I’d believed all your bullshit?”

“You didn’t, so it doesn’t matter, right?”

“How long?” she yelled, hands curling into fists. “Tell me!”

He raised his head, but he didn’t look toward her. “Thirteen years, I guess.”

Thirteen years? For a moment, it made no sense. That didn’t even— “Oh,” she said dumbly, seeing it all now. Thirteen years. That was why this whole situation had been so volatile for him. Because Madeline was his lover, and Grace had caused all their paths to intersect, and then he’d been sleeping with Grace and answering to Madeline in a place he’d considered his own. And then trying to keep it all contained, trying to keep his lies straight.

“I see. So I guess I was the interloper here. I was the girl on the side this time.”

“No,” he murmured, dropping his head again. “It wasn’t like that.” She thought she heard a pained laugh. “It wasn’t like that at all.”

“No? You can’t even look at me.”

“Yeah, you’ve got that part right.”

“Damn it, Cole. Why would you do that?”

He sighed. “Why are you even asking? You made it clear we meant nothing. You didn’t even want us to mean anything.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Can you just leave it alone?” he snapped, the words cracking as the lightning had earlier. “Please? I can’t do this right now. Just…leave it alone.”

Grace huffed out a shocked breath. “Oh. Sure. I’m so sorry I inconvenienced you.”

“Grace—”

“No, it’s fine. You’re right. None of it meant anything. Goodbye.”


Tags: Victoria Dahl Jackson Hole Romance