by Em Petrova
“They don’t matter.” He jerked his chin toward the place where his family was. Then he pinned her in his gaze. “It’s you. Kash, that asshole said Jake has pictures of you on his phone.”
Her stomach sank.
“In nipple clamps.”
It hit the soles of her boots.
“Hell,” she said softly.
Ridge gaped at her and shook his head. “That’s all you have to say?” He didn’t wait for her reply and started walking again. She followed him out into the parking lot. Next to his truck stood a pretty blonde.
He pulled up short and Kashley couldn’t move a muscle if she wanted to. Anna was here?
“Even though your truck’s dirty, I’d know it anywhere. We spent enough time in the back of it, didn’t we, Ridge?” Her refined drawl made Kashley’s skin crawl.
“What are you doing here?” His tone was gritty, and Kashley looked at him hard.
“I figured sending another email was much less personal than seeing you in person.” She started walking toward him, the parking lot lights catching every rhinestone on her boots.
They’d been emailing? But Ridge rarely checked his emails himself.
Kashley’s heart hammered her ribs, and she pressed a palm over her chest to calm it. Anna sidled up to Ridge and put her arms around him, her face buried in the crook of his neck.
Stomach heaving, Kashley turned away from the sight and ran.
* * * * *
As soon as Anna was against him, a sick feeling ran through his system. Not only did her perfume reek but she felt all wrong. Sounded all wrong.
Because she wasn’t for him anymore.
Fuck. Kashley.
He pushed Anna back and looked around for the woman who’d followed him out here to talk sense to him. But he’d accused her of something she’d done in the past. What an ass he was.
“Kashley?” His call fell on nothing but muddy trucks. She was nowhere around.
“Ridge, I was hoping we could talk about us. What hotel are you in?” Anna’s false pout made him even more nauseated. He realized he hadn’t actually pined for her in a long time. What he’d missed was having someone to call his.
“I do want to talk about us,” he said.
Her face brightened.
“I want to say thank you for dumping me. You saved me from a lot of crap down the road with a divorce and splitting of property.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“Yeah, thanks. Do not email me again or contact me in any way. We’re through, Anna.”
He didn’t wait for her response but turned and strode back to the building as fast as possible. With each step he took he knew what he needed most in his life. It wasn’t the Rope ‘n Ride show or even bronc riding, if his knee decided he really was finished.
He needed Kashley, his friend through the years, his rock in his most tumultuous time, his sex slave for the past month. He wanted to trap her to his mattress, bind her wrists with his belt and sink into her tight pussy while staring into her mismatched eyes.
When he skidded around the corner, he nearly collided with the cameraman. He fumbled for the guy’s name. “Niles!” The guy gawked at him but didn’t speak. “Nigel!”
Confirmation slid over the man’s face.
“Where’s Kashley?”
He pressed his lips together.
“C’mon, man. I know I’m off the show, but you’re not allowed to talk to me now? Have you seen her?”
Nigel pointed to the ladies’ room. “Your sister’s in there trying to talk to her.”
Fuck. Wynonna’s opinion of him wasn’t good right now. For all he knew, she was trying to talk Kashley into walking away from him, going home.
Home. The idea of putting her into his truck and going back to the ranch where they could quietly work things out—alone—gave his heart a jolt.
He clasped Nigel’s shoulder. “Thanks.”
Walking down the corridor to the ladies’ room seemed to take an eternity, especially on his bum knee. It had been swollen during his ride, but he’d recently learned how to compensate and ride anyway. But when he’d thrown that guy down on the ground and started throwing punches, his ligaments had protested big-time.
He was probably going to have to take that doctor’s advice and seek out a surgeon. But he couldn’t do any of it without Kashley. He didn’t even know if she was gone from his life yet and a deep ache had begun, a throb like a limb had been severed from his body.
Without caring who else was in the restroom, he pushed open the door. Immediately, his gaze lit on his sister. She spun to look at him, standing guard in front of a stall where Kashley must be.
“Ridge, not now,” Wynonna said.
“Get out, Wyn.”
She planted her boots. The fact that she was protecting Kashley made him strangely happy, but she shouldn’t be protecting her from him. “She doesn’t want to see you right now.”
“Unless she’s actually using that toilet, I’m opening that door and speaking to her.”
A soft hiccupping sound from Kashley turned him inside out. She was crying. Dammit, why hadn’t he just emailed Anna back and told her to fuck off in the first place? He hadn’t really been holding that door open for her to walk through, yet some weird belief that she was what he still needed had kept him from trashing the correspondence.
He crowded Wynonna away from the door. God, was this what female bathrooms smelled like? Why did they get flowery disinfectants and relatively clean floors? He shook himself.
“Kashley, open up.”
“She isn’t going to take your orders, Ridge. Now leave and give her some time.”
He couldn’t—didn’t they see that? If he walked away, Kashley might escape and he’d lose her forever. He was good with rope and he intended to use it on her later during the makeup sex. Right now he had to lasso her with words.
“Kash, honey, it wasn’t what it looked like with Anna.”
Instead of her sweet voice, Wynonna’s echoed through the room. “Then Anna didn’t show up and you haven’t been emailing her?”
“Shut up, Wyn. For the last time, get out.”
His stubborn sister folded her arms. At that moment two more mulish Calhoun women entered, looking equally as pissed off on Kashley’s behalf. Joy and Channing.
Ridge was cornered but he wasn’t putting his hands up yet.
He turned back to the door. “Honey, I didn’t email her. She sent me a message and I ignored it. I didn’t ask her to come here any more than you asked Jake.”
“Jesus, why not just slice her open and rub salt in the wound, Ridge? Don’t you know those assholes are showing that photo of her all over Texas?”
“Fuck. I’m gonna kill them.” The rough vow barely left his lips and the stall door burst open. Kashley met his gaze, her eyes so red that it hurt to look at them.
“I can handle them, Ridge. Just leave me alone, okay?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she brushed past him and walked out of the restroom with her bodyguards flanking her.
Remind me never to piss off a Calhoun woman again.
Though he had every intention of doing just that. Because after he gave Kashley his last name, he was sure to do something that would piss her off. And he sure looked forward to making up afterward.
Chapter 9
Kashley’s bones ached and exhaustion weighted her to the bed. Her bed, not one she shared with Ridge in a new city.
She flopped over and hugged the pillow next to her, set lengthwise to simulate the man she missed. She’d exhausted her tears days ago but today the ache was worse. She missed him so bad. Even when they weren’t actively speaking the last year or so, she’d gotten comfort knowing he was always there.
Now he wasn’t.
Yeah, he had made an attempt to clear things up in the women’s restroom. It might have been cute in a romantic comedy script kind of way, but she’d already made up her mind that she was never going to be enough for Ridge.
For a time, their affair had been okay with no strings attached. She’d believed she could handle stuffing down her emotions for him.
She was wrong.
The rooster was crowing his head off. Time to get up and help out her parents on the ranch.
She rolled into a sitting position, slumped over, trying to get enough gumption to find some clothes and feed and water the animals. Her pa would have been up for an hour already, checking the herd.
This was her life now. For a few short weeks it had been so much more.
After her morning ritual, she went into the kitchen for coffee. Her mother was there already, reading the paper with a steaming mug of black coffee before her. Hair looking slightly mussed but she was beautiful as always. Maybe because happiness seeped out of her every pore.
She looked up at Kashley, concern knitting her brows. “Feeling all right? I hear there’s a summer cold going around.” Both she and her father knew she’d come home red-eyed and miserable, and Kashley wasn’t talking about it no matter how much they needled her.
“Fine.” She grabbed a mug and poured the coffee. Then she leaned against the counter and sipped while the rooster continued to crow his lungs out.
“You’re running a little behind this morning. The old bird’s protesting longer than usual for his breakfast.”
“I’ll get the damn chickens fed.” She slammed her mug down on the counter and stormed across the kitchen.
“Kashley, stop.” Her mother’s usual soft tone only made her feel worse for snapping at her.
She gripped the doorframe and counted to five before turning around to face her mother. “I’m sorry, Momma. I’m just tired.”
Her mother barely let her finish the sentence before she said, “We know about the nipple clamps photo.”
Kashley jerked. Good thing she was braced in the doorway or she would have fallen flat on her face. Her mouth worked but nothing came out. “You…what?”
Only a slight blush crested her mother’s cheeks. She always was the stoic one in a conversation about anything sexual growing up. “The story hit the news a couple days ago.”
She plastered a hand to her face and groaned. “Please tell me the photo isn’t released.”
“I’m pretty sure Ridge took care of that.”
She gawked and moved across the kitchen to plop into a chair as if pulled by an invisible rope. Or by five short letters of Ridge’s name. “Tell me what you know. Is it in the paper?” She grabbed the sheets and rifled through them to find something about the Calhouns.
“No, it was on the late news.”
“Why the hell would something like that make the news?” She tossed the paper away from herself, disgusted.
“Gossip ranks right up there with police shootings and how bad butter is for you. Kashley,” her mother placed a warm hand over hers on the table, “we’ve stayed out of your life since you were eighteen. But I can’t sit by and watch you functioning in a fog anymore. Won’t you talk about what happened with Ridge?”
Unlikely. “So no photos were leaked?”
Her mother shook her head. “The reports say Ridge broke the guy’s phone. Was that Jake?”
She nodded, heart thumping in a weird rhythm. She could hardly catch her breath.
“It seems all the Calhouns ganged up on Jake and some guy named Chip and threatened him. If you can believe the news, that is.”
Kashley slid her hand from under her mom’s and dropped her face into her palms. Her mind worked furiously over the information she’d just learned, envisioning the scene all too easily. So vividly, in fact, that she was sure she’d watched the episode on TV.
She was devastated that her parents had learned about her risqué photos and sexual leanings on the news. But deep down it didn’t matter if the entire world saw the images. She really only cared that Ridge had stopped it.
As a friend, she thought. He only stopped it out of respect for our friendship.
But she clearly remembered the look on his face when he’d heard about the photos in the first place. And Ridge had acted so possessive of her in their weeks together. Maybe he did care?
She got up and went to the window, looking out on the spot where he’d ridden by day after day during his months after his nationally televised breakup with Anna. The ache in her chest spread. She longed to see him galloping by, head low, body sleek and rolling with every hoof beat.
“Kashley? I’m worried about you, honey.”
She pressed her fist to her lips but the words came out anyway, softly, raggedly. “I’m more in love with Ridge than ever.”
“We knew that, honey.”
She darted a desperate look at her mother. “No, that was puppy love. This—this is everything.”
Her mother’s blue eyes were bright with understanding and sympathy. But she couldn’t really know what Kashley was feeling—the love of her life hadn’t been parted from her a day since the tenth grade homecoming dance.
“Then you have to go after it, Kashley.”
She whirled to face her mom, hands spread. “He’s so hot-headed and doesn’t trust me. And…I don’t know if I can trust him.” He’d hidden emails from Anna. The thought of him kindling a romance with his ex while fucking Kashley sliced her through the heart and soul.
But he tried to explain. He said there was only the one email.
He didn’t delete it right away, though.
I was nothing to him. I never will be.
Her shoulders sagged as she met her mother’s gaze. “It didn’t work out and I have to live with it. I’m going out to feed the chickens.”
Every action of her day was coupled with thoughts of Ridge. He was at every corner she turned, popping into her head to whisper in her ear. Those low commands that drove her crazy. His laughter. Even his biting words when he was angry. She loved everything about him, damn him to hell.
At lunch her parents did the twin stares thing. Kashley finally looked up from her soup and said, “Say what you need to say or stop it.”
They sat close together on the same side of the table, which only showed Kashley what she’d never had. That closeness, that undying love.
“I’ve got some pickles I just put up that you can take over to the Calhouns this afternoon,” her mother suggested.
Kashley groaned. “You can take them over yourself, then. I’m not setting foot on Calhoun soil.”
“It’s only one that you’re upset with. The rest are still your friends,” her mother said gently.
“That only makes me feel worse. I love them like my family. We’d really bonded the past few weeks and they feel like my brothers, Wynonna and Buck and Ryder’s wives like my sisters.”
“Then it won’t hurt to go say hello.”
Oh it would hurt, all right. It would be like standing on the train tracks hoping a train didn’t come even as she prayed it would barrel toward her.
She shook her head and pushed away from the table, the soup barely touched. She took it to the refrigerator and set the whole bowl inside. She’d eat it later. Maybe. If her appetite ever returned for anything but a sexy rancher, bronc rider, ex-reality star and master of the bedroom.
* * * * *
Ridge thrashed onto his back, and his bedframe protested with a squeak. He’d have to fix that or stop tossing and turning all night. It was too hot, though. The sheets tangled around his legs and his thoughts raced.
They’d been home for days and he hadn’t heard from Kashley once. He’d gotten close to contacting her, but he heard his sister’s warnings too loudly in his brain. Give her some time. Let her get over your stupid ass.
Worse than Wynonna’s insults was his knowledge that he was a stupid ass. The past six months had been a whirlwind of bad decisions and sinking to new lows. The biggest dive he’d taken, though, was toying with Kashley.
The past two days he’d done nothing but analyze their relationship. Done a fair amount of comparing it to his and Anna’s too. What he’d come up with was a neon sign point
ing to how Kashley felt about him.
While Anna had walked away, Kashley had stepped right in. Anna would break a nail and run off to the salon to have it fixed. Kashley loved being covered in mud and working with cattle. She was right beside him even at his worst. Her actions spoke much louder than Anna’s purred I love yous.
He flipped over again and nabbed his phone off his nightstand. A couple mechanics magazines fell off and slapped the floor, but he ignored them. When he turned on his phone, the light seemed to stab his retinas, and he quickly lowered the brightness. The time was 4:23 a.m.
With a slight tremor in his hands, he brought up Kashley’s contact. His last message to her had been the morning they were leaving for Houston.
Ready?
Be there in ten minutes. Oiling my boots.
When she’d shown up in her worn boots, polished to a dark brown gleam, he couldn’t help but smile at her. A woman of her beauty didn’t need to bother with rhinestones or conch shell decorations. Her navy blue tank top, slim jeans and boots were sexy as hell.
He scrolled up to other messages sent back and forth in the long nights they were separated. He’d missed her breezy beachy scents next to him. The way she looked when she first opened her eyes and realized he was going to kiss her even though they both had morning breath.
He let his thumbs hover over the screen. If he shot off a text right now, would she respond?
He missed his friend, his lover. His dirty little slave between the sheets. But mostly he missed the closeness they shared. He should have run after her back in Texas. As soon as she’d gotten into West’s truck and crossed several states home, Ridge had lost her.
With nothing else to lose at present, he texted her. It’s the middle of the night and I’m missing you.
He read it twice before he hit send. What did he have to lose anyway? It was gone. His knee, his bronc riding career, his reality show contract. Even his siblings were treating him like a leper.
Staring at the screen, his heart slammed hard as he waited for a response.
And waited.
And waited.
Nothing came. He checked to make sure the notifications were turned on so he’d hear immediately if she responded.