by Piper Rayne
“Ah.” The answer finally clicked. “The arts isn’t exactly a guaranteed moneymaker, is it?” It wouldn’t be the “provider” occupation he’d always envisioned himself holding. It wouldn’t guarantee that he, alone, could take care of a wife and family.
“All I’ve ever wanted is someone to look at me the way they looked at each other.”
“And let me guess.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Bria looks at you that way?”
Annoyance flickered over his face. “I’m not here to talk about Bria.”
“Then I ask again . . . what are you here for?”
The crowd cheered, but she didn’t look around. She didn’t care how the rider did. She wanted to know what this conversation was actually about. And then she wanted to get on with her life, to find herself a piece of land and start her own company.
And she wanted to try to get over Bobby Brandon once and for all.
But then Bobby took her hand in his . . . and it felt so danged good.
“Jewel.” The intensity was back. “I’m tying to pour my heart out here. Would you please let go of that chip on your shoulder for one minute and listen?”
Tears threatened. That fast, and with one touch, and she was about to bawl like a baby. She loved this man too much, and she’d screwed up by walking away and not agreeing to keep trying. She wanted to tell him all of that. Tell him that she’d look for land near Missoula. She didn’t have to work out of Birch Bay. She wanted to be with him. But did he still want to be with her?
“Jewel,” he said again, and she realized she hadn’t answered him.
She blinked to hold back the tears. “I’m listening. You have one rider left, and then we have to pay attention. Nick is riding Rolls tonight.”
His lips curved at that, and she almost leaned into him.
“Mom came down last week and brought some of my pieces with her,” he told her. “She also brought a whole heck of a lot of attitude. She couldn’t believe I’ve never shown her any of that.”
Jewel opened her mouth to add her two cents, but Bobby put a finger to her lips.
“I always thought following in Mom’s footsteps would make them more proud. Doing anything with a solid career path. Dad had been the best, even before he started the Double B—and I couldn’t ride a bull for anything—and Mom is top of her field. My brother and sister . . . they kill it in their careers. So whittling wood?” He shook his head. “But Mom had that look in her eyes when she came to see me. The one I’d thought she reserved only for Dad.”
A tear escaped.
“She made me see that I’ve been living with a high school ‘dream’ that I never moved past.”
His finger on her lips turned less pressing and more caressing.
“Bria and I came up with a plan years ago. And it was a good one. I thought it was what I wanted. But somewhere along the way, I lost sight of the real goal. A person’s path should be about living. About finding who they are. What makes them happy. And who makes them happy.”
“And Bria—”
“Stop.” Anger fired through his eyes. “Don’t you dare say her name again. You know she isn’t who makes me happy. Are you just trying to piss me off? It’s you, Jewel. You see me. You get me. And I get you too, dammit. Bria and I were done long before you and I ever got together, even if it took me until this week to realize just how long ago that was. We talked when she came over. We were both stuck in the past. Trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. So, don’t say her name again. You’re my person. You see me for who I am. You love me for who I am.”
He finally quit talking, and she didn’t know what to say. She just stood there in shock.
Noises filtered in from the crowd, but she couldn’t pull her gaze from Bobby’s. He slid his finger from where it remained over her lips and squeezed her hand in his. “Please tell me you still love me,” he whispered. “That I’m not too late. I know you planned to come home and get over—”
“Stop.” Her mind spun in circles. “Just stop. Of course, I still love you. Are you crazy? I’ve loved you my whole life. How could I stop in two weeks?”
A smiled cracked over his face.
“And I’ll even wait for you, too,” she hurried to say. She didn’t want to hold anything back. And she wouldn’t mess up this second chance. “We can do the long-distance thing. Or I’ll move to Missoula. I’m going to start my own stock contracting company. I can do that from anywhere.”
Confusion wrinkled his brow. “I don’t want to do long distance. Are you not hearing what I’m telling you?”
She stopped talking. What had she’d missed?
“I’m moving back to Birch Bay, Jewel. Actually, I already have. That’s why I was so late getting here. I quit school, and I moved all my things back home today. I’m going to sink or swim with my wood carving.”
She blinked, unsure she’d heard correctly. And then she heard Nick’s name being announced. “Rolls is up!”
She turned back to the arena just in time to see Nick give the nod. This was it. Either she lost the Double B right now, or an inkling of hope could remain.
The clock counted up, and Rolls bucked. But Nick held on.
Bobby slipped his hand down to clasp hers, and she gripped it as if she’d drown without his touch. And she just might. She loved this man. And though he had yet to say it, she was pretty sure he loved her, too.
At seven point nine seconds Nick lost his grip, and she groaned right along with the crowd. Her shoulders hunched forward. The bonus had just kicked in.
“There was one other thing I came here to tell you, Jewel.”
She looked over at Bobby, the impact of her loss grounding her. Everything but Bobby blurred. Movement in her peripheral vision seemed to shift into slow motion.
“We can’t go with either of your options,” Bobby said, and she nodded robotically. She got it. She’d lost the Double B.
“I know,” she forced out. “You’re selling to Easup. You just made a lot of money.”
“No. We’re not selling to Easup.” Bobby didn’t look away, and she scrunched her eyes as her brain tried to catch up with his words. He wasn’t making sense. “But we did create an option three,” he told her.
The words took a minute to sink in. But when they did, a flicker of hope flared deep. She stood a little taller. “An option three?”
Was their option three something that would allow her to remain a part of the Double B?
She held her breath. “What is it?” she whispered.
Reaching for her other hand, Bobby turned her so that she faced him head on. And the most joyful look shone back at her. “Mom is splitting her portion of the business between us kids. Three ways. But neither Brady nor Brooklyn want to stay in, Jewel. They want to sell to you.”
She replayed the words to make sure she’d heard them correctly, and then her heart rate sped up. “They do?” She bit her lip in anticipation.
“Yes. But I’m keeping my third.” Bobby’s eyes grew serious. “I’m not ready to give up Dad’s legacy. That said . . . I’m hoping that if I’m a silent partner, you’ll still consider buying us out. Two-thirds for you, one for me. You’ll have complete control.”
Fireworks exploding inside her couldn’t have been more shocking. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.
“It’s really mine?” she said.
“It’s two-thirds yours. If you want it. But it does come with one stipulation.”
She nodded. She could handle whatever stipulation they might have, because doing so would mean she got to keep Rolls and Death. And all the other bulls she’d been a part of. It would mean that she wouldn’t have to start all over.
Staring up at him, almost too excited to form words, she asked, “What’s the stipulation?”
“That you let me love you.”
Her heart squeezed at the words. And then the most amazing feeling of warmth spread through her.
“That’s all I ask,” Bobby went on. “That you
let me love you. I’m going to work on my art, live in Mom’s apartment until I can talk you into getting a place with me”—he squeezed her hands tight—“and I’m going to love you for as long as you’ll let me, Jewel.”
Her tears returned. “You really do love me?”
“Baby.” He wiped the moisture away with his thumbs. “I love you with every beat of my heart. How do you not know that already? And I’m going to keep loving you for the rest of my life.”
I hope you enjoyed Jewel and Bobby’s story! If you’d like to read the epilogue (and see if Nick Wilde took top bull rider for the season!), click here to read it on my website.
About Kim Law
As a child, Kim Law cultivated a love for chocolate, anything purple, and creative writing. She penned her debut work, "The Gigantic Talking Raisin," in the sixth grade and got hooked on the delights of creating stories. Before settling into the writing life, however, she earned a college degree in mathematics and worked as a computer programmer. Now she's pursuing her lifelong dream of writing romance novels.
You can learn more about Kim at her website, www.KimLaw.com, or visit her at her Facebook page: www.facebook.com/kimlawauthor. Kim loves hearing from her readers!
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Also by Kim Law
The Wildes of Birch Bay
Montana Cherries
Montana Rescue
Montana Mornings
Montana Mistletoe
Montana Dreams
Montana Promises
Montana Homecoming
Sugar Springs Novels
Sugar Springs
Sweet Nothings
Sprinkles on Top
Turtle Island Novels
Ex on the Beach
Hot Buttered Yum Two
Turtle Island Doves (novella)
On the Rocks
The Davenports
Caught on Camera
Caught in the Act
Deep in the Heart
Hardheaded
Softhearted
Holly Hills
“Marry Me, Cowboy” (novella), Cowboys for Christmas
Copyright © 2021 by Hollis Wynn
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Editor: Missy Borucki
Proofreader: C.M. Albert
About Inevitable
Fallon
For the past five years, I’ve spent one weekend a year with the loves of my life—Ford and Jameson, the men who stole my heart in college.
Our lives may have taken us in different directions, but nothing could erase the bond we’d forged. With each passing year, that bond has only grown stronger.
Three days out of three hundred and sixty-five are not enough for me anymore. This year, it’s time to face the truth.
Our love is inevitable.
Inevitable [ in-ev-i-tuh-buhl ]
adjective
unable to be avoided, evaded, or escaped; certain; fated:
an inevitable conclusion.
sure to occur, happen, or come; unalterable:
The inevitable end of human life is death.
noun
that which is unavoidable.
Chapter One
Fallon
One year.
That’s how long it’s been since I’ve set my eyes on Ford and Jameson. Three hundred and sixty-five long days. Considering we live in different states, we rotate who chooses the location for a weekend away once a year. Last year, Jameson picked the beach in Florida. The year before, Ford chose the mountains in Colorado. This year, we’re spending a weekend in Miller Creek, in the heart of the Texas Hill Country.
When I was in college, I couldn’t have imagined that in the last six months of being there, I’d fall in love with not only one man, but two.
“Same time next year?” I ask Ford and Jameson as we lay in my bed, legs intertwined, utterly and totally spent.
When I met these guys last year, there was no way I could have imagined this day would come. I planned one last dinner with them before we all go our separate ways. Mitchellson College will forever hold fantastic memories—including the first time I fell in love with two guys.
“Sure. Whatever you say.” Ford pulls me closer, and I kiss him on the chest.
“Hey! What about me?” Jameson says, a loud chuckle escaping his throat.
“Well, then scoot in,” I respond to him. “I like being the middle of this sexy sandwich.”
Jay scoots closer to me, wrapping his arm around my hips and pulling me close as I lay one leg over Ford.
It’s not the most comfortable place to be physically, but my heart beats in rhythm with theirs, and it’s exactly what I need.
“Yes,” Jay answers my question. “Same time next year. No matter what happens while we’re apart, we will be together one weekend a year.”
I’d fantasized about being with two men before I met them—and it was nothing but spectacular the first time. Each time it gets better and better because when we are together, I am their sole focus. Every look, caress, or touch is all about me.
Five years later, we’ve met up one weekend every year to remind ourselves of the love we have for each other. During the days we’re apart, we make every effort to stay in touch, and we do it well, from calls to texts to video chats. We do whatever it takes to keep in contact. When you love someone, distance often makes the heart grow fonder, and it’s true with these guys.
Often, I dream of what it would be like to come home from a long day working to a glass of wine waiting, the tub steaming and full of bubbles, and being worshiped from head to toe.
Yes, that’s what I fantasize about. And you know what? I own it. Sex is a natural part of life, even though my ultra-conservative parents never discussed it with me. Now that I’m an adult living on my own, they don’t have any ownership over me—or my body.
Standing outside the old-fashioned, white clapboard house, I fall in love with the place I rented for the weekend. There’s an enormous wraparound porch with a bed hanging from thick ropes at one end and two wicker chairs with a table in between on the other and bordered by giant ferns hanging from the rafters. No doubt the guys and I will make good use of that swing.
The black shutters frame the windows, and there are multi-colored pots full of flowers surrounding the house, making it feel super homey and comfortable. It is something out of a storybook.
I push the large black door open and make a mental note to leave a substantial tip when we leave. The owners have made this weekend so easy. Plus, I didn’t have to drag bags and bags of groceries with me because they offered to do the food shopping and leave everything ready for us.
It doesn’t take me long to explore the house. It’s a small farmhouse with the perfect mix of shades of white and gray, grounded by the rich oak floors and ceiling beams. There is a binder on the bar in the kitchen with all the information about the house. I quickly skim through it and note the instructions to heat the hot tub.
The master bedroom sits tucked behind the kitchen. I set my bag on the bench at the end of the bed, spying a door in the corner that leads outside. This room is simple and clean. A king-sized bed is centered between two floor-to-ceiling windows with sheer, white floor-length curtains.
Opening the first door, I see a giant bathtub inside a shower and dual vanities. Exiting the bathroom, I make my way to the patio door, and the smell of fresh-cut grass gre
ets me. Spotting the hot tub in the corner, I walk over and turn it on because there is no doubt in my mind, we will end our day there.
I make my way back into the bedroom and slide out of my sandals. Leaving them at the end of the bed, I pad my way to the kitchen for a glass of wine and to start dinner. The guys should arrive in the next couple of hours, so it will be nice to have dinner ready when they get here.
For these weekends, we each plan something to do outside of the house. If I let them, we wouldn’t leave the house at all, and I wouldn’t be able to walk for a week after. I cook dinner the first night, and the guys find something for us to do in the area. I know we’re going on a hike, which no doubt is Ford’s doing. He’s always been active and can’t stand to lounge around for too long. Jay hasn’t shared his plans yet, but I know we will all enjoy whatever it is.
It doesn’t take me long to find my way around the kitchen. The organized pantry has all the things I requested lined up on one side with paper products and cleaners on the other. Glancing around, I notice an old-fashioned radio. Pulling it out, I place it on the counter and plug it in, allowing the old-school country crooners to serenade me.
It doesn’t take long for me to lose myself in the chopping, dicing, and marinating process. The smell of cilantro permeates the room, and I sneak a taste of the pico de gallo I’ve been making.
“Yummy,” I mumble to myself. Fajitas is one of my favorite meals, and I know the guys love Mexican, so it’s perfect for us. While the meat marinates in the fridge, I toast the rice, then add tomatoes to simmer together, allowing the flavors to meld perfectly.