by Becky Avella
Sean leaned across the seat and placed his hand on top of hers through the window. “I don’t like this. Why can’t I come with you?”
She let go of the door and put on a phony grin. “Give me five minutes to smooth some ruffled feathers in there, and then I’ll be right back.”
Walking toward Blake, she dragged her feet like a little girl on her way to the principal’s office. She glanced back at Sean. She’d insisted he stay back because she didn’t want some testosterone-fueled conflict between the two men, but she missed Sean’s steadying presence already. Maybe she should have let him come with her.
This was getting silly. She was a grown woman. She hadn’t really done anything wrong other than decline Blake’s invitation, and she didn’t need Sean to hold her hand when she talked to him. If Blake Ransford was making her nervous, it was her own fault for letting him have that kind of power over her.
One of her dad’s old maxims echoed in her head. People will want to ground you, Deanna. It makes them feel bigger than you when you let them. Don’t let anyone clip your wings.
As always, there was some truth mixed into his endless supply of cheesy clichés. She squared her shoulders and called out, “Blake, is that you?”
Blake hopped down from the porch and closed the gap between them. His mouth was a hard line, his chiseled jaw set. He was a rock and despite her internal pep talk, Deanna shrunk before him.
“What’s going on with you today?” Blake asked. He glared over her shoulder at the truck. “Are you still with Loomis?”
“I’m sorry about missing our...meeting,” she stammered, unable to bring herself to say date. Although she knew that’s what it had been to him.
He held up a hand and silenced her. He stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. Leaning in, he said in a soft voice, “That’s not what I meant, Deanna.”
She’d expected anger, but Blake’s voice was low and kind. Sweet. He reached for one of her hands and held it lightly. Even in the dim porch light, she could see the clear blue of his eyes as they searched hers.
“Are you okay?”
She blinked back tears. She pulled her hand back and squared her shoulders again. “It’s been a rough day, but I’m handling it.”
“Come here,” he said. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and his cologne went straight to her head. The scent wasn’t overwhelming, nor was it understated, either. It was the perfect amount, as if it emanated from Blake naturally. If confidence had a smell, this was it, and the bottle of the stuff had probably cost him more than she would pay for a piece of furniture. Deanna was keenly aware of her sticky, sweaty skin and her dust-covered clothing. It really had been a long day.
Blake led her toward her front door. He cleared his throat. “There’s something you need to see.”
“Let me guess,” she answered in monotone. “Someone broke in.”
Blake stiffened and stopped walking. “You’ve been home already?”
“I’ve seen their handiwork all day—the coffee shop, Sean’s truck. I can only imagine what it looks like in there.”
“Who did it?”
“Long story.”
The feel of Sean’s kiss lingered on her lips, and Blake’s arm around her shoulders felt wrong. What did this look like from Sean’s vantage point? She wriggled free and tipped the potted plant by the door. Her spare key was gone. “Have you been inside?”
“Yes,” Blake said without apology. He held out the key and said, “I was worried about you. And I went to the barn and took care of Star for you while I waited, too. He was hot, so I hosed him down.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, putting the key back in its hiding place. “Thank you.”
She thought of her sweet horse. She longed to lean against Star’s back, to inhale his leathery comfort. To let her mind go as she groomed him for the night, releasing more stress with every brushstroke. But Blake had done it all for her already.
Because he was her landlord, this was technically his property. He even owned Star. Another of their many arrangements. Deanna earned the use of the horse and a trailer for her rodeos in exchange for Star’s upkeep and training.
Deanna sighed. For someone who cherished her freedom and independence as much as she claimed to, she sure was dependent on Blake Ransford. How had that happened? She’d met Blake at another friend’s barbecue several years ago. She’d known all about Blake, the town’s football star who had played for the University of Washington, but it was his first introduction to her. After that, their business dealings had evolved slowly over the years. With all of his real estate success and expertise, Blake had been a lot of help to her, but they obviously needed to set some new boundaries now.
She cast one more quick glance back at the Beast before she reached her shaking hand toward the doorknob. Sean should be here walking through this door with her, helping her face the disaster on the other side. He’d been such a comfort at The Hangar. She turned back, ready to wave him in, but Blake’s broad chest blocked her.
“Here, let me.”
He reached over her head and pushed against the unlocked door, shoving debris out of the way as the door swung open.
Unshed tears blurred her vision as she looked inside. The destruction wasn’t a surprise. She’d expected it, but it still hurt. She and Gram didn’t own much, but what they had either held sentimental value or had been earned by a lot of hard work. It was all in shambles before her now, reduced to a pile of garbage, a match to the coffee shop.
She swiped at the escaping tears quickly before Blake saw her weakness. “That’s what I expected,” she whispered.
“This is unacceptable,” Blake said, his voice granite hard. His anger was palpable. He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll fix this, Deanna. It will be as if it never happened. You’ll see.”
He turned her around by the shoulders. “I’ll take care of you.”
His words vibrated through her, reaching the lonely little girl buried deep. She’d been struggling to keep afloat for so long. If she stopped fighting his advances, Blake had the means to truly take care of her, and Gram, too. He could provide a lifestyle she could only imagine. He was offering a security she’d craved for so long. She didn’t love him. Did that matter? Yes, it did.
“I appreciate your help, Blake, but I’m okay.”
“The evidence says otherwise,” he said and began listing all of the ways she was struggling. He would know. He was financing most of it. He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “Men like Loomis? They are a dime a dozen in this town, Deanna.”
Blake grabbed her hand again and gently played with her fingers. “He can’t give you the life you deserve. Not like I can.”
“Sean and I aren’t together,” Deanna protested, blushing.
Blake grinned. “Glad to hear it. So you won’t mind me telling him he can take off, that I can take over from here?”
“No!”
The force of her protest startled them both. Blake frowned, his demeanor hardening. “I see.”
Deanna scrambled to smooth it over. “Sean and I have some unfinished business, is all,” she said. “We’ve been through a lot together today.”
Blake wrapped his muscular arms around her, pulling her in tight. His breath was warm against her hair, leaving her dizzy, claustrophobic. “Yeah, well, you and I have some unfinished business, too, don’t we?”
She pushed her forearms against his chest, fighting for extra space. “You’re hurting me, Blake. Let go.”
“I think I’ve been patient long enough, Deanna,” he said into her ear.
She tried to pull away again, but he held her even tighter. Her pulse accelerated. She tried to scream for Sean, but Blake clasped a firm hand across her mouth, stifling the words.
The cologne she’d admired earlier was suffocating her now. “What d
o you want from me?” she said through his fingers.
“Him or me?” Blake’s voice was thick with emotion, hardly above a whisper, but the icy chill it sent through her was powerful.
“I told you, we aren’t seeing each other.”
“Enough!” Blake yanked her hair hard, forcing her face up to make eye contact. The soft blue of his eyes darkened as his pupils dilated. He spoke through gritted teeth. “I’ve offered you the world twice now. This is the last time I ask.”
He shoved her away from him and crossed his arms. She moved to run, but he blocked her escape.
“Sean! Help me!”
“He can’t hear you in here.”
Her whole body trembled. “How dare you!”
He chuckled. “I’m not going to let you run away from me. After all I’ve given you, you owe me the words at least. You can accept my generous offer or if you think he’s better suited for the job, let Loomis try to protect you,” he said, pronouncing Sean’s name with a hiss.
Blake held out his hands, palms up like a scale. “So what’s it going to be? Him or me?”
She saw it all. Everything she’d gain if she could only say yes to him, if she chose to ignore how rough and cruel he’d just been and what that could mean for her future. She also saw everything she’d lose the second she fell out of Blake’s favor. Her house of cards was toppling.
“I choose him,” she whispered.
Blake’s nod was slow and deliberate. “Wrong answer,” he said, drawing a gun from a holster on his belt.
But she’d seen him reach for it and had anticipated his move. She’d matched his speed.
Deanna’s own gun pointed right back at him.
SIXTEEN
Deanna planted her feet wider. She inhaled slow, deep breaths through her nose in a vain effort to calm her racing pulse. She moved her aim down to center mass and caressed the trigger. Could she pull it if she had to this time? There couldn’t be any hesitation. She couldn’t make the same mistake twice.
But this was Blake. Someone she knew. Someone she had thought was her friend. Someone she had trusted for so long. She imagined the bullet propelling through the air. She saw it dropping him and imagined the blood. The tip of her gun shook. She struggled to steady it.
Would Blake hesitate to shoot her? She reversed the scene in her mind and saw a bullet hitting her. She searched his eyes for the answer but saw nothing she could read. How could he want to kill her now when only last night, he had claimed to love her? Did he still?
“Looks like we’re at an impasse,” Blake said.
His voice was caramel smooth. She detected no surprise, no fear, not even anger in it. His face was calm, his body completely at ease. Was that amusement in his blue eyes?
Blood rushed to Deanna’s face, and an angry rhythm pulsed against her temple. Blake hadn’t lost an ounce of control. She didn’t scare him a bit. He was as cool and confident as ever, even with her quivering gun pointing at his chest like an accusing finger.
“It’s you,” she whispered. “The guns, the drugs. All you.”
“Not all me,” he said. He looked around the room. “This was not me.”
She lifted her right shoulder and quickly wiped away the sweat rolling into her eye.
“I should have guessed it had to be you,” she said. She was going to be sick. “I didn’t want to believe you were capable of it.”
He cocked his head and put on an exaggerated look of confusion. “Capable of what exactly? Business? That’s what I do best. You know that.”
She shook her head rapidly. “Don’t try to justify this,” she said.
Blake moved toward her. She almost tripped over couch pillows behind her as she backpedaled away from him.
“I don’t need to justify it, because I can rationalize it,” Blake said, coming even closer. “You could, too, if you’d stop looking through your emotion. You’re a businesswoman. You understand supply and demand. People will buy drugs and guns whether I provide them or not. Why shouldn’t I profit from it?”
“It’s illegal!” she protested, her voice shrill. She backed up more.
He swatted away her words as if they were annoying gnats. “Alcohol was illegal during Prohibition, too. Now it’s not. These laws are all built on perceived morality and they come and go on the whims of men. I make my own decisions, and then I live with my own conscience.”
“Conscience,” she snorted. “You sure you have one of those?” The reality of the situation dawned.
“You tried to have me killed, Blake,” she whispered.
“No,” he insisted. “That order did not come from me. Neither did this mess, or whatever happened at The Hangar. They didn’t know how much you meant to me, or they wouldn’t have dared.”
They kept their guns trained on each other’s hearts, their unblinking eyes locked as they circled each other in a strange slow dance.
“Yeah, I can see how much you care,” Deanna muttered.
Blake quickly closed the gap between them, backing her against the wall. “Can you even see your own hypocrisy?” he hissed, his breath warming her cheek. “Or have you already forgotten how much you have benefited from my success?”
The truth slammed against her. Every little favor from him. Every little act of generosity over the years. It had all been a trap. Making her owe him more and more until she was so far in his debt she couldn’t make it without him. She would have washed up a long time ago if it hadn’t been for Blake. Now he was collecting on that debt.
His voice softened again as he added, “Can’t you see how much you can still benefit from it?”
The life of luxury and prestige spread out before her like a banquet. No more struggle. No more worry about Gram. A real home instead of this trailer. No more fighting to keep her head above water. Horses...an arena.
She felt the solid wall behind her. No escape. Her elbows were bent, the tip of her gun pushed against his chest, and still he was closing in on her. He rested his forearm against the wall above her head and his cologne’s heady scent filled her nostrils again, making her dizzy.
“I can’t be bought.”
“That’s funny.” Blake chuckled low and deep. “I thought I’d done that already.”
Shoot him! Her hands were trembling, and she couldn’t stop them. She stood straighter, grasping for some sense of control.
“Back up, Blake!” she screamed, shoving at him with the tip of her gun. “Give me some space or I will pull this trigger.”
Blake lifted his hands in surrender and gave her a little space. “See. This right here.” He gestured loosely at her with his gun. “If I could only make you see our potential together. My business sense combined with your passion?” He shook his head and said in a breathless voice, “You are so beautiful, Deanna, but I don’t want a trophy. I want a partner. Together we could be unstoppable.”
She heard a fist pound against the front door, and Sean’s muffled voice called from outside. “Deanna?”
He pounded again and again. “Deanna, open up!”
A dark mask descended over Blake’s expression. He snarled at her. “Everyone has a price, Deanna,” he said through gritted teeth.
“I don’t.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? There’s nothing I could promise you to convince you to put down that gun? Nothing at all.”
She steadied her aim and leaned harder into it, determined. She shook her head no. She would not be a kept woman.
“If you won’t let me give you something, I guess I’ll have to take something away instead.”
The pounding on the door continued as Blake pulled a two-way radio off his belt and spoke into it. “You here yet?”
“Here,” a crackly voice responded.
Deanna’s pulse accelerated. She recogni
zed Greg Martin’s voice. Fear scampered up her spine. “What are you doing?” she asked. Did she want the answer?
Blake’s mouth curved into a small smile as he pushed the button on the radio.
“You got Loomis in sight?” Blake asked.
Deanna gasped. “No!” This couldn’t be happening. She wouldn’t be responsible for it.
“Easy shot,” Greg’s voice answered.
Blake’s gaze connected with hers in question.
“Don’t do it,” she begged. She didn’t even try to hold back the tears. They rolled down her face and into her mouth, salty on her tongue.
“Hold for my order,” Blake said.
“Copy that.” Greg sounded eager for that order to come. “Just say the word. I got him.”
More pounding. The doorknob wiggled, but Blake must have locked it when they came in.
“Deanna, I need to know you’re okay,” Sean called.
She closed her eyes. Sweet, chivalrous Sean. What would he do for her if their places were reversed?
“So you do have a price,” Blake said with a sad smile.
She leaned her head against the wall and let depression’s dark veil envelop her. Everything was too heavy, including the gun. She dropped it to her side.
“I go with you, Sean lives?” she asked. Even she could hear the brokenness in her voice. Blake had to know he’d won.
Blake holstered his gun and took hers away from her. “He’ll get a head start,” he said. “That’s all I can promise.”
“That’s not the deal I’m making,” Deanna said. “I go with you, Sean lives.”
Blake patted his pocket. “Well, you aren’t in any position to negotiate at the moment, are you?”
He held his hand out to her and raised an eyebrow. “Ready to play the happy couple, sweetheart?”
* * *
Sean paced. Should he kick in the door?