by Leanne Davis
“Yeah.”
“What did her dad say?”
He shook his head. “She was freaking out. That was her biggest fear. That I not let him know. She was terrified of him finding out. More upset than having me find out. So that kind of soured things all the more, so I left. I blocked them all on anything that might reach me. I don’t know what he said. I didn’t let it get to me. I holed up in a hotel room for days. Drank myself silly. Sobered up enough to drive here, and you’ve seen me since.”
“That’s truly it? All you’ve done?”
“Yes.”
“I think you need to do a few things now. Find out what’s going on with your job, for instance. Get your clothes and personal items. You deserve to keep your things. That is, if you’re staying here indefinitely.” Her heart lurched. That would be strange. To show up there and not find him. He was always there now. But that was short-term, of course. She might have ridiculously gotten too used to him in too short a time.
“For now, I am. There’s nowhere I want to go and nothing I want to do.”
“Perhaps, you might let your family know what happened, and that you’re safe and staying here.”
He sighed. “That’s such a huge list. That would require lots of energy and lots of words.”
Tilting her head and raising her eyebrows, she thought, that was the point. “And perhaps not drinking would be a better frame of mind to tackle it.”
A bleak expression filled his face. “I don’t think I could tell you how much I only want to stay here and do that.”
“Depression can sink in fast and heavy. I just don’t want you to get too lost. I mean, regrouping and taking time to process what happened are understandable. Maybe just pick one thing to do today to improve yourself.”
“Drink? Hang out with you?”
She hated the pleasure she felt at his words and the way he lifted his face with a hopeful expression at her when he said you. “No. Not going to happen. I can’t facilitate your brain rotting.”
“You just want to see me in my tailored suits. It hurts your eyes, as it does my soul, to see me in Asher’s despicable excuse for a wardrobe.”
“Don’t insult the hand that’s feeding you. And he is my boyfriend, so I think the clothes are great. But apparently, bland fashion suffocates your soul. So you better do one thing to fix that.”
“Sounds extremely responsible and the right thing to do.”
“Yes. Imagine that.”
He leaned back in the chair. “I suppose it’s time.”
“This can’t mess up your job. I mean, he can’t fire you because his stepdaughter and son are cheating on you. Right?”
“I don’t know. But the thing is, I disappeared without a word. It’s been what? A month? So there is that. I don’t know how my text was received. I was enraged and wanted him to see the disgusting thing that his son did. I did it mostly to hurt them, but I probably only hurt myself. I keep going around and around in my head. How can I go back to work there? Even if no one ever finds out, I’ll know. And how likely is it he will abandon his own son? Fire Stanley for his sexual transgressions that included sex with his stepsister? Probably not very likely. Maybe that’s why I’ve avoided fully engaging and reaching out. Then I’ll know for sure, and I might have to make the decision for myself.”
“For how long?”
“That’s a good question. I can’t go on forever. I guess I should just go back.”
“You could just start with a phone call. To your boss. To his dad. What’s his name?”
“Larry.”
“Okay, call him. Check in. Tell him your side of it. It sounds like you loved your job. They can’t take that away from you as well.”
“They might have already by default because I might not be able to get over it. Or to go back there and work. Or look at him. Stanley still works there most likely… even if he doesn’t, and I’m the real asset.”
“Fair doesn’t always win, does it?”
“Not against the kind of money and power the Stantons have.”
She rose and ravaged around Asher’s cabinets until she found a power bar to eat. She unwrapped it, turned and munched on a piece, which she soon swallowed. He watched her the entire time. She shrugged. “What about her?”
“Stepbrother-fucker?”
She gave him a baleful look and didn’t restrain her groan of frustration. “Francine. Isn’t that her actual name? The terrible nickname isn’t helping at all.”
“It feels good though. And yeah, that’s her name.”
“Not Franny? Francis?”
“No. She’s not like that. No nicknames. She’s all formal and gilded. Expensive taste and desires.”
Yeah, including fake husbands to cover her trashy, taboo lover. But Kyomi didn’t say it out loud.
“But anyway, what about her?”
“What do I do? Go back to her? I never want to look at her disgusting face again. I could strangle her. It bothers me how much I fantasize about things. Terrible things that I never used to imagine. I detest it and her for putting thoughts like that into my head.”
“But they’re only thoughts. Thoughts never hurt anyone. If you don’t act on them. It’s a way of processing anger. I imagine you do lots of fantasizing about revenge?”
“Yes.”
“But you aren’t going to do anything.”
“How do you know?”
“Gut reaction. You won’t. Besides Asher wouldn’t care about you so much if you were some kind of violent, scary man. Right?”
“He never saw me with a cheating wife.”
She finished the power bar and walked back over and sat down. “I realize that. And I honestly am sorry. It’s really awful. Your anger and outrage are expected and reasonable. Not acting on them is just smart. But maybe take a few steps to address the situation. I know she did it all, but she put it on you, so here you are.” She glanced at the clock. “Look, I have to go. But I’ll be back tonight, for real, to check on you. Please consider everything I said.”
“I will. But where do you go? What do you do?” Puzzlement filled his face and she almost groaned at her naivete. He never considered what she might do. Or anything else about her. He just knew she showed up with food to nourish his hung over and drunken ass.
“I work on my dad’s cattle ranch.”
“For real? Like, you do the physical work?”
“Like completely for real.”
He tilted his head at her. “You’re a chick-rancher?”
“I assume you mean that in a derogatory and sexist way because I’m a woman rancher and not because I’m a chicken rancher. So yes, I am a rancher. Don’t be sexist again. It’s so unattractive on you, city-boy.”
“Wow. I didn’t understand. That’s why you got all those muscles?”
She kept her face averted so he didn’t notice her blushing. Was it bad or good that she had muscles? She was strong. For sure. She had to be for what she did. “Yes.”
“Why doesn’t Asher get his ass over there and help you? Instead of working on this place?”
“Because it’s my place. My family’s place actually and I’ve never asked him to.”
He shook his head. “That’s crap. He should help you.”
“Because he’s a man? He can ranch without my help, but I can’t manage without his? Sexist again, Hunter.”
“Yeah. But still why not? Why don’t you ask him?”
She blew out a frustrated breath as he ignored her protests. She was amused by his preconceived notion of what a rancher should be and look like. “Have you ever noticed he’s never here? Always working. At your family’s place and here. He’s endlessly busy. I get that. I work one ranch, he’s working two. So of course, I don’t ask him. Second, I know what I’m doing. I grew up helping out. Always. I might have left for a while, but I never forgot and Dad can still tell me what to do. And he does. Believe me. So yeah, I’m a rancher.”
Hunter’s eyes were huge and wide. Apparently, her
being a cattle rancher was almost as shocking as his wife, the stepbrother-fucker. She shook her head for referring to her with that damn, terrible nickname.
“Well, he’s a fool. He should help you. And—”
“Or I should help more around here? I could. But I’m sick of the work by the time I come here. This is my escape from it, and Asher never escapes it.”
“He chooses to do that. It’s to work his brain numb. Maybe I should try it.”
She let out a laugh inadvertently. He scowled at her. “I know what you’re thinking and meaning. I can’t work like that because I can’t do that. I’m a pencil pusher. I fill my time, thoughts, energy and life with the kind of work I kick ass at.”
“You should. And I was a little mean. I just can’t see you doing manual labor outside. At all. Not at all, Hunter.”
“I can do work outside. I grew up on a ranch. A big ranch. A huge one. I just don’t want to live like that again.”
His scowling, gruff voice showed in his demeanor. “You’re really offended, huh? I know you are. I’m jealous. My family’s ranch isn’t like yours. It’s in the Falton Valley. Flat and fenced. No real views, just far-off mountains. A dusty, dry bowl with no trees or water features. It’s kind of plain. Small house, too small. It’s a mess in need of debris removal, new fencing, out buildings, and the restoration list goes on and on. But there isn’t much money for that.”
He shifted around. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay. I’ve never asked Asher to come over there. It’s just what it is.”
His forehead furrowed with wrinkles. “What the hell, Kyomi?”
Startled, she fastened her gaze on his. “What?” Truly puzzled why his tone of voice sounded so offended, she glanced around as if the answer lay elsewhere in the room.
“Why would you let him get away with that?! Not coming to your damn house? Helping you out? Showing him your life? That’s weird. It’s strange and weird that your boyfriend has never been to your house. Ranch or not. Ugly or not.”
“Well, technically it’s my dad’s place, but no. It’s not that weird. It’s fine. I like to come here.”
“Right. But he should know where you live. The kind of work you do? You know about all of his.”
His voice was rising as he got more and more worked up. Wow, it seemed to really offend him. “Honestly. It’s fine.”
“Is this more of that honesty bullshit? He loves another woman, Kyomi. Do you really understand that? Are you okay with that? And we both agree that Asher Reed works himself almost physically sick to deal with the fact that Daisy Rydell isn’t here. She isn’t going to be here. And oh, by the way, she left his life. He’s still hurting for her. You’re going to tell me you’re okay with that? For real? Your boyfriend isn’t that into you. Wake up. This isn’t cool. Or a game. He’s not giving you…”
“He is. So stop it. I know all that. For a fact. Yes. I’m not hurt by it. I’m okay with it. You don’t have to understand it, as long as we do.”
He rose to his feet, suddenly his gaze hot as fire on her face. “You’re a really nice girl. I think you play yourself as every guy’s good friend. Awesome girl that you are. But that isn’t who should be your boyfriend. That isn’t who you should waste your time with. He has sex with you to forget her, and that isn’t okay. Don’t you know you deserve better?”
Startled, her eyes rounded as she opened her mouth and stared up at him. She was boggled by his heated reaction. Where was this coming from? She had to believe it was displaced anger. He was projecting his distress over Francine and Stanley, his job and his city-life suddenly so at risk of being destroyed. He was seeing issues where she had none. Did he want to help her? Maybe. It was almost nice if it weren’t so condescending. She slowly rose up to lean on the table as he was, sticking her face into his. “Listen to me. I know what and who Asher is. As well as the woman he loves. He knows me. I know him. I trust him. Mostly, I like him. I want to have sex with him. Last night was about us. Not her. Daisy wasn’t in his thoughts. It’s sex, Hunter. It’s companionship. I’m good. We are good. So quit thinking you need to… what? Save me from Asher? Come off it. And your sexist attitude that I can’t be the rancher? I can’t do my job without a man? I can’t decide for myself how to enjoy sex or choose the right type of relationship I want? Well, I know. I want this one. This type. So stop trying to save me.”
She was breathing hard and so was he. Frowning at her, he didn’t stop glowering. She leaned back and rose to her full height. “And I am not.”
“Not what?” His tone was gruff and he almost grunted at her statement.
“A really nice girl. I’m a woman. A rancher. A capable, smart, fun woman who chooses the men she has sex with and doesn’t have to explain why. So stop looking out for me like the homely little sister you’ve tagged me. Everyone’s tomboy friend. I am not. Any of those. But I am Asher’s girlfriend. Your best friend’s girlfriend. Give me that much respect.”
He stared at her opened-mouthed after her outburst. Slowly, he leaned back, rising to his full height before he stepped back from her. “You’re right. Sorry.” Then he spun around and left.
Her heart fell down to her feet. Damn it. She alienated him. Honestly? She wasn’t sure what she felt about him. But declaring herself Asher’s girlfriend was not exactly what she wanted to emphasize. Because truth was, she had a raging crush on Hunter and she finally had to admit it.
But all she managed to accomplish was to prove his original impression of her: a tomboy, little-sister, friend he needed to “save.”
When she wanted to be…
Well, what? Hot and amazing and beautiful or something else? None of those things were remotely appealing to her and even she knew that. She was becoming everything she was flaming mad about Hunter noticing. She’d never been irrational, until now.
Hunter stomped up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door. He was shaking. Embarrassed. And totally in the wrong.
But he hated knowing she spent the night there.
He realized it was a primitive, Neanderthal reaction. Like his good buddy and friend, Kyomi Wade was somehow tainted by having sex with Asher.
However, Hunter was kind of upset by it. She might be new to him and just a friend or whatever, but there was something there. He wasn’t sure how he felt about their kind of strange relationship. Honest, yes. But satisfying? How could that be enough for Kyomi? It seemed like she was always playing second fiddle and shouldn’t that mean something more to her?
He genuinely liked her so much. He hadn’t met a person he clicked so well with, jived with, enjoyed and was both challenged and amused by in years, if ever. He was already invested in her just by his sheer fondness for her. He just wanted more for her. Why didn’t she want more?
There were so many points that Kyomi made and he knew he had to face something besides the open end of a liquor bottle. It wasn’t funny. And it needed to happen. Soon. Now.
Sighing, he showered off the cobwebs and remnants of last night’s inebriation. He found more of Asher’s casual, big-chain bargain store clothes to put on, shuddering at each garment he found. He really did need to get his belongings or buy new ones. He should move home and kick Francine out. Go to work. Face it. Divorce her. Do something.
But the thought of leaving the peaceful retreat he found at Reed Ranch left him completely hollow. He had zero interest in going back to his former life. Not even to retrieve his stuff, which was so unlike him, and it disturbed his equilibrium. He always cared about how he looked and appeared to the world. He thoroughly enjoyed his entire life until that pivotal moment when he entered his occupied bedroom.
He should kick her cheating ass out. But he didn’t want to go back there. What would he do? Sleep in the bed she was having sex with someone else in? He would rather burn it. What bothered him most was the spike of rage that filled him whenever the images once more flashed in his head. He wondered if perhaps the overwhelming desire to burn the mattress mi
ght turn into an act of arson if he were physically in that room. That worried him. Beyond all other concerns, his desire to take destructive action left him realizing the best course of action right now was probably drinking away his days at Reed Ranch while spending his evenings with Kyomi Wade.
To be honest? It wasn’t that bad of an existence. Considering how he felt when he showed up here, it was better than tolerable. Very doable. Not as catastrophic as it might be. Kyomi was a great distraction for him.
He wondered if he was making up the problems for her, identifying them in her life as if she weren’t aware of them, when there obviously weren’t any. Maybe he was projecting his own unhappiness? Maybe he was using her problems to forget his own?
But she was right. He should face something. But what? How?
Perhaps by turning his phone on?
Hunter hadn’t mentioned to Kyomi the reason he had no clue about what was happening in his life and the city, was because he shut his phone completely off the night he caught them and never turned it back on. He might be fired from his job. He might not still be living in his home because Stanley moved in. Francine might have… well, who knew? If someone tried to alert him, they would fail since he turned it off. Hunter was completely and totally off the grid. As much as his secret location was a secret. People would expect him to go to the Rydell River Ranch, which is why he didn’t. Who would think he’d run to Asher and Reed Ranch? Who in Seattle had even heard of it? He wasn’t sure he told Francine anything at all about Asher or the place. And if he did, it was most likely in passing, so why would Francine remember it?
The point being: he didn’t have any information right now. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to touch base with reality yet. Even if Kyomi were right. Asher would most likely never say a word or nudge him to do anything.
Except he truly longed to wear his own clothes again. That would give him the best chance to feel like himself, and allow the real Hunter to emerge again.
How long could he continue to wuss out about it and keep hiding out? Not even checking to see the fallout or what happened? The motivation to figure out what to do with the fallout completely escaped him still. He had zero ambition to act.