CHAPTER 21: AUGUST

Meets with developer friend to get a few ideas for how to progress the Ranch.

Later in the evening, after supper and the rest of the nightly chores are done, I shower and change then get ready to head to Wade's cabin on the property.

There's still no word from Patrick – again, he hasn't even read my messages. I shouldn't be upset about it as I am, we are both gearing up for cold weather and working our asses off, but damn . It hurts not to hear from him. After a month at this – is this where things begin to fade between us? Is this where we drift apart with less texts and calls until they stop all together? It's the time difference that kills us – late nights for me means early mornings for him, my early mornings are his mid-day, and his evenings are my mid-day. To say it's a conundrum would be a freakin' understatement.

Thoughts of the Scotsman are pushed to the back of my brain as I focus on relaxing and having a few beers with my best bud. The ache of needing someone in my bed is overwhelming me.

I walk up the deck and give him a wave through the window. Wade has a smirk and an easygoing strut about him when he answers the door, telling me he's relaxed and happy to see me. He's dressed in loose-fitted jeans and a dark t-shirt, the ink on his hands and forearms sparking thoughts of a certain Scotsman.

[Wade] "Evenin', boss." He says, gesturing for me to head inside.

[August] "Evenin'." I reply, giving him a slight grin as I shuck off my boots and hang my hat on the peg. "Finally got that horse settled for the night?"

[Wade] "Yeah." His sigh is full of relief. "Zeus gave us quite the run for our money, but we got him squared away. For now, anyway." He shuts the door and heads to his kitchen, pulling out two beers from the fridge, and handing one to me. "That horse has to be wild. Reminds me a bit of you when you were younger."

A random memory of him daring me to do something, and me doing it without hesitation pops into my head making me chuckle.

[August] "Now that's a terrifying thought. Hopefully, he'll calm down after a bit of training."

We take a seat on the old leather couch in the living room, a fire crackling the in hearth given the early October nights dip in the low thirties. It's not a roaring fire, just one big enough to take off the chill. We nurse our beers, the weight of the bottle in my hand feeling great after a long day. The foreman's cabin is cozy, not too far from the main house, but just far enough to feel like a world of its own.

Wade leans back and rests an arm along the top of the couch.

[Wade] "So, how was the trip? That game was a nailbiter." he asks, glancing at me with a relaxed smile.

I sip my beer, allowing the cool liquid to ease my throat.

[August] "Yeah, it was somethin' alright." I grin as memories of the trip flash through my mind. The breathtaking landscapes of Scotland, the bustling streets of London, and of course, Patrick and all his stubbornness. But I pushed him aside. "It really makes me wanna bring some Highland cows onto the ranch, you know? Those things are incredible."

Wade chuckled, shaking his head. "Only you would go to another country and come back wantin' more cows. But I've gotta admit, those shaggy beasts are pretty cool."

I grinned at him, but I could sense the shift in the air, the unspoken tension that had been hanging between us for a while now. It had been a long time since we'd sat like this, just talking, catching up after a hard day's work.

Wade's voice grew softer, more serious. "I've missed this, you know? Missed relaxin' with you after a day like today. Feels like old times."

I nodded, the words striking a chord deep within me. "Yeah, I've missed it too. We should make it a point to do this more often."

Wade's gaze lingered on me, his eyes dropping to my lips. I noticed the way he stared, and the tension in the room grew thicker. My heart rate picked up a bit, and I felt that familiar, unsteady feeling in my gut.

[August] "Wade," I started, a little unsure, "why are you looking at me like that?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he put his beer down on the coffee table and, with a sudden movement, he leaned forward, pressing me back into the couch with his body. His lips were on mine before I could process what was happening, his kiss full of the kind of passion we used to share.

For a moment, I let myself get lost in it. I felt the ache inside me, the one I'd been carrying around since I got back from Scotland, ease just a bit with Wade's lips on mine. I craved this—contact, intimacy, something to fill the void that had been gnawing at me.

But then, something wasn't right. As Wade deepened the kiss, it hit me like a punch to the gut. This wasn't right. Wade wasn't Patrick. His touch wasn't the one I longed for, his kiss wasn't the one that haunted my thoughts every night.

I pulled back abruptly, breaking the kiss and pushing Wade off me. My breath came in short, uneven gasps as I stood up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as if trying to erase the kiss. My mind was reeling, my emotions a tangled mess.

"I can't do this," I blurted out, my voice shaky. I felt a surge of guilt and shame wash over me, knowing that I'd let it happen. Even though Patrick and I weren't in a relationship, it felt like I was betraying him, betraying myself.

Wade looked up at me, confusion and hurt flashing across his face. "August, what—"

But I didn't let him finish. I couldn't. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling more defeated than I had in a long time. "I'm sorry, Wade. I just… I can't do this."

Without another word, I turned and stormed out of the cabin, leaving Wade sitting there alone. The cold night air hit me as I stepped outside, but it did little to cool the fire raging inside me. I was angry—at myself, at the situation, at everything.

But more than that, I was heartbroken. Because I realized in that moment just how deep my feelings for Patrick ran. Wade might have been my first love, but Patrick… Patrick was something different, something more. And I couldn't pretend otherwise anymore.

As I walked back toward the main house, the night swallowing me up, I knew one thing for sure—I needed to figure out what the hell I was going to do about Patrick. Because I couldn't keep going on like this, torn between the past and the future, between what was and what could be. Something had to give, and I was terrified of what that might be.