After a minute, she moved across the room, unable to bear her attraction. He might not have been her normal sort of mistake, but he’d certainly been her worst. She’d guarded her heart from everyone else but, in a short matter of days, offered it up to him without a second thought.
If she’d been more limber, she would have raised her foot and kicked her own ass.
Instead, she crossed to the computer. If she didn’t load up on reasons to hate him, her legs, without the permission of her brain, would carry her down the steps right into his arms.
A few keystrokes later, she had a full profile on Jesse Megalos—a foundation for battered children, an annual six-digit-before-the-decimal donation to cancer research, a high-profile land development company that strived to make each community a better place.
Shit. None of this helped her hate him. Where were the pictures of him with assorted bimbos? Drunk in a bar? Partying like a playboy?
It didn’t matter. He’d lied, and no amount of charity or community improvement would change that.
After a while, sunset came, the hammering below her window stopped, and she finished shoving her clothes into her luggage. Lana and Mark had agreed to take care of the rest, and she had to catch her train early enough she could sneak out of town before the sun came up.
In the back of her mind, the question remained—if she truly wanted to leave town, why did it hurt so bad? Before it occurred to her to think of something—anything—else, a picture of Jesse flashed in her mind. She inhaled on a sob.
He looked up at the window across the street, hoping for just a glimpse of her, that she would see the goodness that came from his father’s shady business dealing. He needed her to see it. And damn it, he couldn’t take the chance that she might sleep through it, or worse, hole up in her tiny apartment, hiding from the judgmental old bags who ran the town. . .and from him. Okay. Mostly from him.
He ignored the ten or so people shouting his name and raced across the street, up the steps and down the short hallway to her apartment. He raised his hand to knock, then pulled it back to his side. What was he doing? He didn’t have the right to barge in on her. He’d lied, not by saying the words, more by keeping them to himself. She deserved better. She needed someone to cherish her and worship everything about her—more than he could give. With this deal, he’d practically bankrupted his own company.
Of course, he’d built the company once. He could do it again, but until he did, he had nothing to offer.
He backed against the wall next to the door and slid down until his ass hit the cool tile of the hallway. He dropped his head to his hands.
“She’s gone.” The voice, the smooth southern drawl of her foster mother echoed down the hall.
“I know. I’m going to wait here for her.”
Lana shook her head and shrugged one shoulder. “Hope you packed a bag.”
His eyes flipped to her face. “What?”
“She’s getting on a train out of here. She’s not coming back.”
He shot to his feet. He couldn’t let her go without telling her how he felt about her. “Not coming back? Where’s she going?”
Air pushed out of his lungs, and his heart ached. He’d lost her? No. Unacceptable. Lana’s crossed arms and half-lidded eyes gave off a don’t-screw-with-me vibe. He lowered his voice. “Please.”
“Why should I tell you? You lied to her.” Her brown irises darkened to almost black as she glared at him. Venom spit from her tone.
“I know.” His skin burned with shame. “But I can’t stand the thought of losing her now. I love her.”
“It can’t be about what you want. Who gives a shit if you can’t stand the thought of losing her? That isn’t her problem. She’s been hurt before, and you walked in here and did it again. You don’t deserve Ryhan.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Lana clucked her tongue against her teeth. “You’re a fool, Jesse. She’s worth fighting for. She’s worth loving.”
“I do.”
Lana crossed her arms and cocked her head. For whatever reason, he needed this woman to believe him.
“I really do. I’ve never felt this way before. Never cared so much, but she’s all I think about. When I’m with her, I’m a better person. I love her.” The pounding in his heart quickened. He’d believed saying it out loud, ever, would tie him down. Instead, the most refreshing freedom he’d ever known rushed through him. He tilted his head. “Please. Tell me where she went. I love her.” This time, when he said it, he smiled. It was true, and he didn’t care who knew it.
She rolled her eyes. “You barely know her.”
He closed his eyes, picturing the curve of Ryhan’s cheek, the sparkle in her soul. “Have you ever just looked at someone and known that they’re the other half of you, that without that person, you’ll never be able to breathe right again?” She lifted one eyebrow, and he plunged on. “When she talks to me, I can’t stop listening. It’s not even the words.” He smiled, more talking to himself now than Lana. “Because, God knows, she uses a lot of them. It’s that I need to hear her voice, to learn how her mind works, to have her look at me with that smile and know that I put it there.”
Lana stepped forward and poked a finger in his chest. “This better not be a line.”
“It’s not.”
Her lips pursed, and her eyes squinted. “If you hurt her, I’ll come for you.”
“I won’t hurt her.”
She nodded. “Then let’s go. You don’t have much time.” She grabbed his hand and hauled him down the stairs and out to his car. “Give me the keys.”
“What?”
“Do you wanna stand here and argue, or do you want to go get your girl?”
He shoved the keys into her hand and made his way around the hood to hop in the passenger side as she spun the tires before shooting down Main Street and out of town. He hung onto the door handle on one side and the console on the other as she took corners, zoomed down straightaways and narrowly avoided death.
“I guess you taught Ryhan how to drive?” His squeak immediately preceded a curse as she zipped around a car, squeezing back into her own lane at the exact moment they almost became a hood ornament for a box truck.
“Taught her the important stuff.”
“Yeah. I can see that.” He closed his eyes as she passed a car on the shoulder and tree branches whipped into the windshield. “This is a very bad case of déjà vu. I don’t really think this is a car that’s meant to go off-road.”
“A lot of traffic today. Must have something to do with that big brouhaha in town.”
“Is it—holy shit!” Another branch scraped as the car slid on the rocked side of the road. She swung the car back onto the two-laned highway, and he relaxed his grip for a second. “Is it much further?”
She slammed on the brakes and skidded into a spot in front of a train station on the side of a country road. He left the door open in his hurry to catch the girl of his dreams before she got on the train. In a relatively empty room, she’d been easy enough to spot.
“Ryhan,” he called, louder than necessary. “Don’t go.” He jogged the last steps until he blocked her path to the train side of the terminal.
“Leave me alone, Jesse.”
“I can’t.” He shook his head and took her hand in his. “I—I need you, Ryhan, I need you in my life.”
“You should have thought about that.” She firmed up her grip on her bag. “I can’t be with someone who lies to me.”
“I know, and I was wrong, but I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do anything.”
She bit her lip. “Anything?” He nodded. “Then get out of my way. It’s all I want.”
Oh God. He had to change her mind, show her he meant every word. “I know I was wrong not to tell you about the deal and the land and everything else. I want to take it back so bad, to redo all the things I did wrong, to show you how important you are to me. Give me a chance, please. Give us a chance.” He couldn’t get the words out
fast enough. “God, Ryhan, I’m falling in love with you.”
Her gaze turned dark a second before her lids covered her eyes. “I can’t, Jesse. All my life, I gave second chances. And all my life, the people who said they loved me abused it. I swore to God no one would ever get to me like that again. I’m sorry.”
He nodded and turned away, unable to focus against the finality reflecting in her eyes. After a few steps, he turned. “No. I can’t let you just go. I love you. Do you hear that? I love you. Please don’t do this.” If she needed him on his knees, begging for her to stay, he would do it.
“Bye, Jesse.” She tossed her bag over her shoulder and headed to the door without bothering to so much as glance back at him.
He trudged outside. What more could he have done? A tear slipped down his cheek, and he dusted at it with his hand. Lana’s smile faded, and he looked down at his feet. “She left.”
“Did you tell her?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, but even that took too much of his reserve energy. He climbed in the car, reclined the seat, and closed his eyes.
He’d actually planned to say more, to tell her he would whisk her away to anywhere she wanted, to tell her he would stay in Rangers End if the town made her happy. He didn’t care about where he laid his head as long as he could smell her perfume, touch her skin, fold her into his arms. Mistakenly, he’d thought she felt the same way, that he’d seen signs. If she hadn’t felt the same way, he had nobody to blame but himself. He was the liar. He ruined it all.
He picked up the phone and booked a flight back to Boston. He couldn’t stay here without her.
17
Finding a cab had proved more difficult than she’d imagined—impossible really in a town with no cab service. Instead, she’d begged a ride from a kindly old man, born sometime before the Titanic sank. He’d pulled up and dropped his senior citizen son off at the station for a noon train to who-really-cared, Kansas, but agreed only after he searched her bag for weapons. Satisfied she’d left all weaponry at home, he’d taken her driver’s license number, written it on a paper, and shoved it deep into his pants pocket.
A normal twenty-minute drive to Rangers End took almost an hour as the old man drove with his hands at ten and two and his foot at twenty. She’d chattered all the way, filling him in on her feelings and how desperately she needed to be with Jesse. “He’s everything I ever dreamt a guy should be. He’s strong and smart and funny. And he puts up with my crap, even thinks it’s cute. I kind of talk a lot.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” His smile said otherwise.
“That’s nice, but when I’m nervous or excited, the words just pour out. It’s a thing, like a personality quirk, I guess. But he thinks it’s cute. I mean, he doesn’t really say it, but he gets this look, like I’m a huge chocolate sundae and he can’t wait to dig in. You know?”
“If chocolate sundaes talked.” She could have sworn he added a muttered “too much,” but she didn’t comment.
“If I let him go, I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life and I’ll never find this again. This feeling.”
“I feel that way about my Leora. She’s a beauty too. I was lucky to get her.”
When he pulled up at the town square, she jumped out before he’d even rolled to a complete stop. “Thank you so much.”
“You go get that boy. He’ll be lucky to have you.” He handed her bag across the seat and shut the door. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”
She winked. “You bet.”
She dropped her stuff on the curb and made her way through the crowd. All attention was focused at the stage in the center of the square. Jesse stood at the front waiting for the applause to die down. A loud honk from the street behind the stage stopped whatever words he’d spoken before she arrived.
He turned to the sound, blew a breath into the microphone he held, then hung his chin to his chest. He replaced the mic in its stand and waited with the rest of the crowd for the door to open. An older version of himself came up the side stairs and onto the stage next to him. Jesse stiffened, and his jaw ticked.
His father—it could be no one else—stepped forward to the microphone. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I am part owner of MJM Development, and I’m here to give you my word that I will be a fair landlord to all of your properties and that your town will once again become a wealthy town. I am pledging one half of the proceeds for each barrel of oil produced here back to the town.”
Jesse cocked his head as his father continued.
“I am also, as your new landlord, going to invest in each property, making it more commercial, drawing more tourism which, in the long run, will benefit you in higher sales for your shops and increased property values.”
Jesse stepped forward, covered the microphone with his hand, and spoke to his father, an amused smile playing at his lips. The older man’s face grew red, then crimson, then a deep, dark maroon as Jesse spoke. His shout, “You did what?” caused a murmur to wave over the crowd.
“Last night,” Jesse said, dropping his hand to his side. “I gave the town back their land and their loans.”
“That’s hundreds of thousands of dollars!”
Jesse shrugged.
“Are you out of your mind?”
Ryhan moved closer to the stage, her feet in charge at the moment.
“Maybe, but you can’t just go in and buy up a town and expect people to let you tear apart what they worked for their entire lives. The land, the money, the whole damned company is mine. And I can do with it whatever I please.” He grinned. “This pleased me.”
“We’ll be broke. Your mother will never take me back if I have nothing to offer her.”
“So, we’ll start over. I did it once. I can do it again. And maybe give Mom the part of you she wanted all along. Your time.” He looked out at the crowd. “This was the right thing, Dad. Look at these people. This is their life; all their blood, sweat, and tears have gone into keeping this town pure, without tourists or money-hungry companies digging up their land. I know you’re disappointed, but I couldn’t do it.”
The older man stomped off the stage, almost knocking Ryhan down as she moved toward the steps. Mrs. Megalos chased him back to the limousine as Ryhan bounded up the final step and stopped, her gaze raking over Jesse’s body. Heat crept up from her toes and into all the spots seeing him brought to life. “Hey.” For all the words she knew, she couldn’t come up with anything more original.
“I thought you left.”
She nodded. “I did, but this guy showed up at the train station and asked me to stay.” She moved closer. “And, for some reason, I can’t resist him.”
He grinned. “Sounds like a great guy.”
“He has potential.” She twisted her hands together to keep from reaching out to touch him. “He said he loves me.”
His hand touched her hip, gentled her closer. “He does.”
“Good because I love him back.”
“You haven’t known him that long. What if he has a closet full of secrets?”
She shrugged and slipped her arms around him. “I’ll probably YouTube them, start my own channel of naughty secrets.”
“I never said they were naughty.”
She tugged him down. “Well, then we’ll just have to see what we can do about that.” His lips hovered an inch from hers. “So, from now on, we seal all deals with a kiss. You in?”
He brushed his lips against hers. “All in.”
About the Author
Always on the lookout for her next book boyfriend, Melissa Shirley is an avid writer and reader who has taken to creating the men of her dreams in the contemporary romances she writes. A mother of eight, Melissa is a published author of the Storybook Lake series and lives in a tiny rural town in Illinois.
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