River from the City: A Small Town Contemporary Romance (Rydell River Ranch Series Book 6)

by Leanne Davis

  Her stomach dropped when she realized how close he was and the intimate look on his face. Something she could never picture was actually happening at this moment.

  Their lips met and the passion flared up once more. On and on they kissed and sighed, going from aggressive tongue-dancing to soft sips and nibbles. It was languid, yet explosive. Then something disturbed her.

  The noise was distinct. Strange. What was it? A door was shutting somewhere farther off. It was a distinct slam. Then footsteps. Hunter froze. He stiffened and sat back. They stared at each other in shocked silence. He pulled back to a kneel with his butt on his heels. Their eyes were huge as they looked at each other in disbelief. The haze left. Instantly, they both seemed to comprehend the same reality at once; what did they nearly do?

  Hunter jumped to his feet, and she followed, tugging on her shirt while Hunter ran his fingers through his hair. With his elbows out, his gaze landed on her and then the doorway.

  Instantly, she knew Francine was about to walk in.

  Who else would enter the bedroom?

  Kyomi stepped back, wishing she could sink into the floor or disappear behind Hunter. Francine was exquisite. A former model that was evidently whom she still was. Tall, she was long in limb and eloquent in stature and demeanor. The face matched the body. Kyomi saw a look of hunger as she stared at Hunter.

  “Hunter.” It was a breathless statement. She somehow knew he was there.

  Hunter stared hard at her. For so long they held each other’s gazes. Kyomi wished desperately that she hadn’t come there. She didn’t belong there. Nowhere near this place or situation. They were so obviously still joined. Joined in mutual pain and betrayal, and all the unsaid reasons that tied them together. Shared years. Shared heartache. Whatever the label, Kyomi knew they hadn’t worked it out yet, and that was an issue. She already decided that before entering his bedroom, so how could she let a silly moment make her forget it?

  She was the third wheel in an excruciating encounter. A necessary one that was weeks in coming. But it had to be.

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “Jan. She saw you and texted me.”

  He nodded, sharing the knowledge of whoever Jan was.

  “What are you doing?” Francine’s gaze took in the room. The luggage. Kyomi. Francine stopped dead as she took in Kyomi.

  “I’m getting my things.”

  “Hunter… we need to talk. About all kinds of things. You can’t just take your belongings and go. We have to talk. All my messages…”

  “I never listened to them. I’m still not ready to. And I will not.” He turned and strode towards the closest suitcase, flipping it shut. His entire face was cold as stone. Mean. Ruthless. He said it like a business transaction and Kyomi was unable to imagine what he so clearly illustrated for her now.

  “Hunter… please. We must…”

  He slammed his fist down on the closed suitcase, startling Kyomi, who jumped. So did Francine, judging by the look on her face. “I must? I must what? Nothing, Francine. I have to do nothing. Nothing. At all. Ever again for you, you filthy whore.”

  Francine’s mouth dropped open. Obviously, she’d never seen Hunter like this. She drove him to it. But he chose to act this way on his own. Kyomi knew there were plenty of loose ends to work out so she had to know it was coming. This furious storm. This explosion of rage Hunter never fully vented until now. Here at the source, of course, it had to happen now.

  Kyomi stepped back. She wanted to get out of there. She had to breathe. Her lungs felt like she was suffocating and her heart was beating way too fast.

  What had she done? What? She only kissed this man. This stranger. This man so smitten with another woman, his wife, for whom he still had unaddressed and unresolved feelings. There was never a moment when he was fine. Or a place where he could move forward in any type of healthy way. Especially with someone else. Dumb. So stupid. To almost have let him… they had almost… right there. In the very bedroom where his entire life was desecrated.

  The ultimate betrayal that never ended.

  Kyomi almost let him use her as his revenge. He wouldn’t intend to do that. Never set out to, she was sure of it, but the end result would have been exactly the same for her. She would have clearly been on the wrong side of it.

  She had to get free. Stepping back, Francine full-on turned and ran her eyes up and down Kyomi. Her scornful gaze raked over her. Taking in Kyomi’s outfit, she stopped at the wrinkles of her shirt and her eyebrows rose and her cheeks swelled with obvious amusement, or maybe disdain, at what she determined from Kyomi’s appearance.

  “I know, baby,” Francine’s said, her gaze stayed glued on Kyomi. Hunter’s back was turned to both of them. The tone of voice was soft. Caring. “We have to…”

  “Nothing. Damn it. Quit calling me that. You—” Hunter’s voice broke.

  This wasn’t her fight, her place, or her man. Kyomi simply turned and fled.

  The voices started again, rising and yelling. Nasty and then soothing. His nasty, hers calm and so soft that Kyomi couldn’t make out what was said. Kyomi’s stomach sunk as tears filled her eyes. Not for Hunter, but the flood of emotions that she didn’t know what to do with.

  She had to get out of there. The problem being: she could not go anywhere without him. Not without Hunter.

  But she had to. She simply walked out of the apartment, taking the elevator down to the cool level of the parking garage. Glancing around, she contemplated what to do next, how to proceed. She had no idea.

  She was defeated, deflated, embarrassed, scorned, and all the things she expected from her involvement with Hunter Rydell. Sliding down to sit beside his car, Kyomi was leaning against the wheel on the left-hand side where she could stretch out her legs and wait. Pathetic. Trapped. The sad rebound fling his wife so rudely rated and found wanting. Kyomi was unimpressive and definitely no threat. At all. Ever. Even to the woman who cheated on him.

  Waiting… waiting… it was more than a simple conversation. She understood that and kept waiting. But the wait went on for hours and hours. Finally, the need to sleep won out.

  Chapter 10

  HUNTER’S PANIC ROSE AS he pressed the elevator button, restraining the urge to repeatedly push it, knowing it couldn’t make the car come any faster. But his heart was pounding and his blood was pumping. A bit late to feel so worried, but now he did.

  Time seemed suspended. He managed to abandon Kyomi for hours. In Seattle, a city she’d never been to before.

  How could he explain to Kyomi what happened? Seeing Francine and being in that room with her changed everything. Time ceased to be relevant. It hurt all over, cutting him so deep and sharp, like a knife turning in his gut. The anger blinded him again. So shocking in its immensity, it seemed like way too much. Again. His head felt like concrete.

  The words he said were not his. Nor the filth that spilled from his mouth. Words that were designed to hurt. They didn’t solve or release his feelings. They just hurt and destroyed him without purging anything. Francine, meanwhile. remained calm and soothing. She was taking it like an adult, crooning at him, even. Sorry. So very sorry, she was, or claimed to be.

  The begging from Francine was new and unbelievable for Hunter to see.

  Don’t just go. We need… We must… We have to… Hunter, please… on and on the persuasive openings, Francine tried every one, but he shut them all down.

  He’d been nasty in his effort to finally break free of her. Her stink was all over him and so was her draw. He’d always been overly drawn to her. Too easily affected by her charm. She enchanted him, almost. Her grace was obvious to all. Her influence and wealth were bred into her, like the bloodline of a thoroughbred. It was part of her personality, not just shallow trimmings. Trimmings that blinded Hunter and had made him want her even more.

  Hunter always wanted her. Sex with Francine was incredible. She managed to control him by bargaining with his passionate desire for her. It was a new dynamic for him. One
that waned during the five years of marriage, but not completely. No surprise, she still had that power over him.

  After exhausting his rage with his words and all but huffing, puffing and pounding his chest in the cruel accusations he flung at her, he was exhausted and he sat on the edge of the bed. Quiet filled the space between them and Francine finally asked in a soft, lyrical voice with no hint of anger, “Who is she?”

  “Asher’s girlfriend.” He didn’t pretend to wonder whom she meant by she.

  Kyomi.

  Fuck. So much there. Where was she now? Where did she go? When did she go? Why hadn’t he noticed her absence? Why didn’t he care more? Lost in the heat of his vehement explosion, he totally failed to register her. He never bothered to take a glance at her to check and see how she was handling the encounter with Francine. She was next to him and then? A strange haze clouded his mind. And now?

  “Why is she here?” Francine asked.

  “To help me move my stuff out. For good.”

  “Hunter?”

  “No.” He got to his feet. “No more.” He didn’t articulate what he meant, but lifted up his suitcase and left.

  Where would Kyomi go? This was a disaster. From sharing a kiss… which was almost more than a kiss… he cringed. Rushing through the penthouse, collecting his stuff in an awkward hurry, the horror of merciless recrimination overcame him. Down the elevator he went, his brain cataloging everything he knew about her. Where would she go? How could she go anywhere? She had no idea where she was. No car. No sense of direction. Oh, what a shit he was. What a jerk. How could he do that to her? For Francine?

  Why did that bitch still wield a magnetic pull on him?

  He had to fix this. How? But first, he had to find her.

  Stumbling, he pulled the big suitcase behind him and swung the smaller bag over his shoulder. He was rushing as fast as he could through the parking garage until he stopped dead.

  Kyomi was leaning against his car. Sitting on the dirt-covered, cold, hard concrete, she appeared to be sound asleep.

  She fell asleep waiting. For him.

  His heart nearly exploded with emotion. He dropped his stuff and quickly shuffled over to kneel next to her. He didn’t hesitate in holding her body close to his. He kissed her forehead muttering, “I’m so sorry…”

  She stirred against him, still asleep. His heart ached with remorse for putting Kyomi in this situation. And neglecting her for so many hours in a foreign city that she didn’t know how to navigate. He knew how nervous she would be. She had no access to a vehicle and was no doubt too intimidated to use public transportation in a place as foreign to her as Australia. He’d been so angry with Francine, he spent a good two hours selecting the most descriptive word-vomit to capture all the negative sensations he got from her. She had to take it too. His friend, Kyomi, who helped him so much today, and lately in general, was thanked for her help with a kiss before he put her in a terribly awkward situation. He never had a thought or care about what she was doing while he was having it out with his wife.

  He abandoned her by not caring enough to check and make sure she had somewhere else to go. He could have taken three minutes to text, call or follow her, anything to simply find out if she was okay. Physically and emotionally.

  Instead? Here she was propped against his car, sitting on the cold concrete in a dark, gloomy parking garage. Waiting so long for him that she’d fallen asleep. Fuck. He deserved Francine’s fucking around on him. Maybe he was that guy. So selfish and clueless, he didn’t notice what people around him were doing until they ended up all alone, resting against a car.

  Frustrated by what he’d done to Kyomi and the fruitless, awful encounter with his wife, he decided the entire day was a futile mess. Opening the passenger door, he leaned down, scooped up Kyomi and slid her into the seat. As he gently arranged her spaghetti-limbs, her eyelids fluttered open.

  Her body jerked as she realized he was right there, face-to-face, with only inches separating them. Clicking the seatbelt into the buckle, he gently arranged it across her upper chest. “I’m sorry. I should have done anything but what I did.”

  She wiggled around, rubbing her eyes. “Was I asleep?”

  “Yeah. Against my car. All alone in the parking garage.” His tone was crisp, cool and terse since it was critical of him, not her. Setting his hand on her knee, he held her gaze deep and long. He hoped she could detect the absolute horror he experienced after what he’d done to her. How he left her on her own. Kyomi, the most kickass, kind-hearted woman he ever met. “I should have taken better care of you. Made sure you could drive my car somewhere. Hell, unlocking it would have been a good start. I should have done something, anything at all but leave you with no choice but to sleep here in the damn parking garage. It could have been dangerous. It’s unforgiveable.”

  She tilted her head, blinking and a little surprised. “I’m fine. I just waited and got tired. Sat down and fell asleep. No harm, no foul.” She slid her hand from her lap to her knee before resting it on top of his hand and squeezing his. “Really. I’m fine.”

  “I’m not.” He shook his head as he withdrew from her. Slamming the door, he took a moment to gather himself as he stared across the immense parking garage. When he slid into the driver’s seat, he didn’t start the car, but stared numbly ahead, one hand on the ignition and the other on the steering wheel, making no attempt to move.

  “Hunter? What happened in there?”

  “Which part? When I took advantage of you? Abandoned you to the elements? Where you could so easily have gotten lost, hurt or otherwise? Or when I yelled obscenities at the woman I vowed to love and cherish all my life? Which part shall I start with? How I’m no longer myself? How I drink all day? I used to work all day and most of the evenings, but now I do nothing. I am nothing. I don’t even know how I got here. Culminating with lifting a woman off the pavement after I all but stranded her.”

  The space between them energized. But the moments of quiet persisted. He held his breath, waiting to hear what she might have to say. He tipped a glance her way, then set his eyes forward. “If you’d like to yell rude obscenities at me, I fully understand it. I would not try to stop you. I deserve it. You took no vow, so you are perfectly within your rights.”

  She let out a shrill laugh. “I have no desire to yell at you. Or kick you. You’re already doing that yourself. You yelled at her. So what if it wasn’t pretty or something a mother should hear? But the woman really did fuck her stepbrother for years and she only married you to cover it up. Then they proceeded to do it some more. Honestly? I think even a priest would forgive your lapse in decency to yell if only just once. Maybe you don’t have to keep calling her a whore, but today? Fully excusable.”

  Shocked at her concise assessment of the scene, and drained of his anger, he stared at her for a long moment. “But what about you? And what I did to you? I allowed her to walk in and distract me from us… from…”

  “Our kiss?” she supplied and her tone was crisp as she nodded her head. She held his gaze without blinking or flinching and he visibly marveled at seeing so much courage in her small form. She was fearless. Awesome. Integrity dripped off her.

  “Yes. That. I let her come in and I should have spoken to you alone first to make sure you had a safe place to go. But I was so eager to confront the woman I deliberately ignored and shunned that when I saw her…”

  “Your plan exploded in your face. Look, Hunter I really think you’re a decent guy. I do. But your avoidance of her and the situation is what led you there. You try to pretend it didn’t happen and you never expected you’d have to address it head-on. Well, you will, no matter where it’s going. I’m well aware of that. You are still a married man, whether or not it’s going to survive this crisis or be over forever, it’s not ended yet. You are married. She walked in. You were… well, hell! I could be flogged for kissing you. I know how messed up in the head you are. Have I been guilty of feeding it? With dinners and alcohol and card games? Sure,
it’s been fun. But I was always aware that although I’m not unsure about life and myself and my place in this world, you are. There is no way you can think clearly so you are not ready to be making any kind of critical or honest decisions… about anything. Including the job you think you want, or do you prefer to stay on your own? Where to live is another issue. What to do with Francine. And me. Who should you be kissing or sexing up now? Anything you do now, is transient. It isn’t real or lasting. I know that. You’re too messed up still.”

  “I didn’t realize how hard it would hit me. Hearing her voice, I froze. I wanted to feel that physical ache for her while coming home, like usual. Like before. I wanted to close my eyes like it never happened. Yet… I also wanted to kiss you. I like you. I don’t like her. So how could I feel so contrary? Or hate her with so much force, I had to fist my hands to keep them at my sides?” He shook his head, keeping it tilted down and his eyes closed. “I am—”

  “Fucked up. You are fucked up, Hunter. There is simply no getting around that fact. I know it. I knew it before I came here with you, and when I agreed to come with you, and certainly, in your bedroom. I knew. I wasn’t expecting you to come down, grab my hand and ask where I wanted to go for dinner. I knew how messed up this confrontation would be especially on you. I hate to disillusion you, but you should expect months of this. It’s something you have to go through. Grief. Anger. Sadness. Wishing things were back to how they were, to never wanting to see or hear from her again. So if I thought now was an ideal time to break up with Asher so I could date you, well, I’d be as crazy as that wife of yours. She has to be crazy to have married you while she was hung up on another man, no matter who he was.”