by Emerson Rose
Then I started worrying that she is ashamed of me and yadda, yadda, yadda, the day went to shit.
So, by noon my favorite kid and my parents were mad at me. What else could go wrong?
Plenty.
Mr. Valentino came to the conclusion that we were flying out together when the airline called the front desk by mistake to confirm my cancellation. For whatever insane reason, he took out his jealousy by dragging out our checkout forever. Ash tried his best to keep his cool, but after a while, he lost it in front of everyone in the lobby, including Cannon.
He accused him of price gouging because I wasn’t interested in fucking him. And as if that weren’t horrible enough, he lunged over the front desk and twisted his tie until he gagged.
I was mortified, and I’m positive at least a half dozen guests videoed the incident. We’re probably all over YouTube by now with a headline something like Sexiest man alive goes berserk!
I was upset, shaken, and a little dazed when he helped me into his limousine, which sucks because I’ve never been in a limo and now I can hardly remember my first ride.
Now I’m sitting in a lavish private jet with a tummy full of butterflies fluttering around an anvil waiting to take off. I’m not a big fan of flying, and I’ve never been on a plane this small.
What if I barf on the white seats in front of Ash and Cannon? What if we hit turbulence and I scream and dig my fingernails into Ash’s arm? What if we crash into a mountain?
I can feel the panic of being trapped inside a flying tin can building in my chest. My heart is pounding, and a trickle of sweat is running down my back into my butt crack. Oh God, why am I doing this again?
Ash leans forward and covers my hand with his warm, strong, reassuring one. “You don’t like flying?”
“What gave it away?”
“Well, you’re deathly afraid of heights so it kind of goes without saying, but I can see your heart beating under your shirt, and you have a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead.”
Nice, the sexiest man alive is also the most observant man alive.
“How about a drink? I have whiskey if you want.”
My stomach churns at the thought of alcohol. “No, that sort of sounds disgusting.”
Cannon is sitting next to me taking it all in. I peek at him out of the corner of my eye, and he looks worried. I’ve put this poor kid through the ringer today. Maybe I should have gone home after all.
But all of my doubts and frustrations are erased when he slides his chubby hand into mine and puts his stuffed pig in my lap. “That’s Davy Crocodile. He keeps you safe.”
I believe I may be forgiven for sleeping with his daddy. Thank God, something needs to go right today, and if this is the only thing that does I’m good with that.
I look at the worn, tattered toy. Does he mean Davy Crocket? It’s not a crocodile or a wild frontiersman. It’s a pig. But it’s Cannon’s pig he sleeps with it and drags it everywhere, and he is giving it to me to help ease my anxiety.
“Thanks, friend, I don’t like flying much.”
“Sokay.”
I look up at Ash, and his eyes are gentle and full of something I’ve never noticed before. He seems content, or at least that’s what it feels like to me. I haven’t known him long, but throughout the time I have, there’s always been a sense of apprehension about him. Like he’s waiting for something to happen, what it is, I have no idea.
“You going to be okay now?” Ash asks.
“Well, of course, I have Davy Crocodile to keep me safe, what else could a girl want?”
“Good point. I think you’ll be surprised how smooth the flight is and we can close the blinds on the windows if you’d rather not watch.”
That’s a toss-up. Close them, and I won’t know what’s going on which might be good. Or leave them open, and know what’s going on and be reassured that things are fine.
I think I’ll be driving home when this week is over.
“You can leave them open. I’d like to know if I’m going to…” I almost said die, but I don’t want to scare Cannon.
“I get it, open it is.”
Ash removes his hand from mine settling back into his seat and buckles his seatbelt. I check to be sure mine is tight, and it is. Cannon does not remove his hand from mine and watches out the window as we begin to taxi down the runway.
He’s brave. I need to take a lesson. If this four-year-old is okay with being thousands of feet in the air in a metal tube, I should be, too.
“Let’s talk, maybe that will keep your mind off of flying.”
“Um, okay, talk about what?”
“You told me you live across the road from the Hill family, how is that?”
“Really? That’s what you’re going to use to help me through my fear of flying?”
He screws up his face in confusion. It looks like I’m going to have to explain our family feud. “Do you have a problem with them?”
“Yes, well, more like my family has a problem with them. We’ve had this family feud going on for over a hundred years. The Hills say a piece of land is theirs, we say it’s ours, their great, great, great, grandpa stole my great, great, great, grandpa’s girlfriend and married her. Throw in a fire that may or may not have been arson and you’ve got a regular Hatfield-McCoy situation.”
“Wow, that sounds intense. You’ve lived across the road your whole life and never communicated?”
I narrow my eyes and frown. Why is he so interested in the Hill family?
“What’s your deal with them? Why are you asking?”
“I’ve heard of them, they have a reputation for being one of the best ranches in that part of the state, and if they were as great as everybody says they are, I wouldn’t mind doing business with them someday. And, I wanted to get to know you a little better and distract you, which I have done. We are in the air.”
Oh my God, we are! I can’t believe my butterflies are gone, and I didn’t even know we took off. Cannon looks up at me, “Told ya,” he says, lowering his eyes to Davy Crocodile.
“You were right, buddy. I wasn’t afraid at all.”
“So, you’re saying it had nothing to do with my stellar distraction techniques?”
“Nope,” Cannon and I answer in unison.
Ash laughs and shakes his head. “You two are unbelievable.”
I shrug, and Cannon returns to watching the world get smaller and smaller.
“And to answer your question, no, we never communicated. Our families would have gone ballistic. We couldn’t even be in the same classroom growing up.”
“So you never formed an opinion of your own, you just went along with what your family said about them?”
“For the most part. I had a best friend growing up, though. Her name was Annalise, and she was infatuated with Beau Hill, he’s their only son. He caught wind of it and, uh, let’s put it this way, he’s a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. She wasn’t prepared for that and got her heart stomped on, so I decided my parent’s hatred must have some truth to it.”
I wanted to say he fucked her once, dumped her, got her pregnant, and she had an abortion because she was too scared to tell anyone, but I have to keep my conversations G-rated around Cannon.
“I have a feeling there is more to that story.”
“Your feeling would be right.” I tip my head in Cannon’s direction and widen my eyes.
“Another time maybe.”
“Yes, another time.”
“What kind of kid were you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Were you an obedient, good girl, or a wild child growing up?”
“Oh, I was a wild child for sure. My sister Charlotte was the obedient, good girl, still is, and my brother is sort of the town idiot.”
He chuckles at that. “So you all got along well?”
“Yeah, I mean we were siblings, we fought and stuff, but we always knew we loved one another. I guess being an only child, you wouldn’t know about that, though,
would you?”
“No, it was just me and my dad and a nanny growing up.”
Cannon perks up joining the conversation. “You had a nanny?”
“Yep, I’ve told you that before, her name was Susan and she was good to me. I liked her,” he says, with a lot of emphasis on the word like, to be sure he understands that he should like his nanny, not torture her.
“I don’t like nannies.” His lip pops out, and he slouches down in his seat.
“I know, buddy, but I have to work and somebody has to look after you while I do.”
“Tella can be my nanny.” He beams up at me, and my heart melts.
“I’d love to do that, Cannon, but my mom and daddy need me to help on their ranch like your daddy helps on his.”
More lip, more slouching. How did we get on this topic again? Ash isn’t coming to my rescue of course. He looks like he’s enjoying watching me twist in the wind, which he does for a few minutes before finally bailing me out.
“Let’s not worry about it right now, Stella’s coming to visit, and we want her trip to be fun.”
I roll my eyes and mouth thank you while Cannon is still pouting. Ash smiles, and we hit a bump of turbulence. I grab the arm of the chair with one hand, and my other squeezes Cannon’s hand so hard he whimpers.
“Shit.”
“You okay?” Ash asks.
“Yeah, sorry,” I answer, and turn to Cannon, “Did I hurt you?”
“Uh huh.” He says slipping his hand out from under mine. “You said the S word.”
“I did, I’m sorry, I was surprised.”
“Sokay.” He slips his hands under his thighs and looks away.
“Do you want that drink now?”
A drink is sounding better now that my touch of nausea is gone. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”
He unbuckles his seatbelt and steps to the rear of the jet to a built-in bar. I watch him walk away appreciating his perfect ass. That man’s ass could have won him the Sexiest Man Alive title alone. Perfectly firm and muscular and bitable, something I’ve only recently learned I like to do.
He returns and hands me my drink, “Whiskey neat.”
“Thanks.” He squats down and digs through a duffle on a seat across the aisle and pulls out an enormous iPad.
“Here ya go, buddy, color a picture for Stella.”
“Yay! Ima color you a horse.” He takes the iPad and opens a coloring app like a pro.
“I’d love that.”
“So, back to getting to know you, if you could go to college what would your major be?”
“I’m not going to college.”
“But if you were.”
“I’m not.”
“Stella, if you could what would you study?”
“I don’t know, that’s the main reason I haven’t gone. I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.”
Cannon stops coloring with his fancy stylus, “You are grown up.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Ash says with a satisfied smirk.
“You know what I mean. I’ve been a ranch hand my whole life. I haven’t had experiences that would point me in another direction. Not to mention, I don’t have the money for college.”
“You’re pretty good with kids.”
“Kid. Singular. I’ve never been around kids other than my brother and sister and Cannon.”
“You’re a natural.”
“So what, I should go to college to play with kids?”
“You could be a teacher.”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
“I think you should take some liberal arts courses online and get your toes wet.”
Cannon looks sideways at his daddy like he’s crazy.
“It’s a saying, it means to try something out a little bit at first before doing it all at once,” I explain to Cannon and, satisfied, he returns to coloring.
“Ash, I know you’re wealthy, and you're used to getting your way but what part of I don’t have any money don’t you understand?”
“I’ll pay for it.”
“No, I don’t want your money.”
“Why?” They ask at the same time, and it’s my turn to chuckle.
“I don’t like owing people, and a college education is a lot to owe.”
“You don’t have to pay me back.”
“Yes, I do, I don’t accept charity.”
“Don’t consider it charity, consider it an investment.”
“How is my education an investment for you?”
“It just is.”
He either doesn’t want to answer or he can’t in front of Cannon.
“Maybe later?”
“Yes, maybe later,” he answers.
I think we are going to have to make maybe later appointments.
An hour later, we are pulling up to the stone and wrought iron gates of the Silversage Ranch sitting in the back of a Range Rover.
I knew Ash was wealthy. He’s been listed as one of the top ten richest ranchers in the US for several years, and I figured his ranch would be impressive, but I wasn’t prepared for this.
When the gates swing open, we start driving down the winding stone-paved road toward the main house. The road to my house, the only house on our ranch, is made of good old Montana dirt, nothing like this.
I can feel Ash’s eyes on me, watching to see my reaction when we come around the last bend, and the house comes into view. I squint in the pink and orange setting sun as we approach the Pride mansion.
The road leads to a large open area in front of the house where cars can turn around or pull into one of at least seven garages. When we come to a stop, my senses are still on major overload.
During my senior year of high school, our class took a trip to Washington D.C. to visit the White House, but I swear, Ash’s house is more impressive.
“This is where you live?” I ask knowing full well it is, but sometimes I ask stupid questions when I’m awestruck, and I’m awestruck. The Pride estate is vast, but the house is massive. On my right, the stone mansion stretches out of my sight, and to my left, garage stalls wrap around the end of the house. The wrought iron and wood front doors are twice as tall as an ordinary door. The Jolly Green Giant could strut through them without a problem.
“Yep, let’s go!” Cannon yells, unbuckling his belt as soon as the car stops.
“Wait for us, Cannon. I have to get our bags.”
Ash’s car door opens, and I hear a deep voice coming from outside, “I’ve got your bags.”
“Oh, thanks, Ridge, I didn’t even see you come up.”
“Got your mind on other things I ‘spect,” he says, bending forward with his arms on top of the Rover to look in at me with his sharp gray eyes. This man is gorgeous, but not in the Ash Pride way. Ridge is mammoth, he must stand over six-foot-five or six but his height isn’t what I would consider his best asset, it’s his ruggedness.
He has perfect bone structure, and growing on the jawline of that perfect bone structure is an honest to God five o’clock shadow, since it’s a little after five o’clock. His hair is sandy blonde, and his lips are full and the perfect peachy tint like I’ve seen male models in magazines. His body is solid muscle like I work out twenty hours of every twenty-four-hour day solid.
“Right. Ridge, this is Stella. Stella, this is my assistant in most things, Ridge Madison.”
“Hi, Ridge,” I say, sounding a little too breathy. I can’t help it, he’s outrageously hot, like twelve on a scale of one to ten for hotness. I’m not one to gawk but Ridge is gawk-worthy, and it’s making Ash squirm, so I keep it up.
Ridge smiles and excuses himself to take our bags inside. “Have you recovered yet?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, trying hard to shake the Ridge shock from my face.
“My assistant should have been on the cover of that magazine instead of me. It’s like women are zapped with a stun gun when they meet him,” he says with a huff.
“Sorry, he’s really�
�� um, he’s big.” I sound like a love-struck idiot trying to hide my interest. But there is no interest, just awe. He’s incredible, but he doesn’t do that thing that seeing Ash does to my insides. The mushy gushy, twisted up, oh my God, I want to lick every part of him, and cuddle in his arms forever afterward thing.
“Big? Yep, that’s how women describe him after they’ve slept with him.”
“I didn’t mean, Ash, he’s tall.”
“I know, just messing with you. Don’t go getting any ideas. You’re mine.”
He exits the door and rounds the Rover while I hang on those words. Mine. I’ve never been anyone’s anything but a daughter and sister. Now I’m Ash Pride’s, girlfriend? No, this is a fling, not a relationship, our lives are separated by two hundred and fifty miles and from the looks of it, at least a billion dollars. I’m Ash Pride’s fling, yep, that’s it, and I would be Cannon’s nanny if he had it his way, but he doesn’t.
He opens my door and takes my hand to help me out.
“Come on, Tella! I wanna show you my room!” I hear Cannon yelling from inside the house. He hopped out and took off as soon as he heard Ridge say he was getting our bags.
“What’s with him?” Ridge asks pulling our luggage from the back of the Rover.
“He’s got a new girlfriend, he’s excited to show her around,” Ash says shooting me a wink.
“Girlfriend? I thought she was your girlfriend,” Ridge says.
Ash takes my hand and says, “I’m learning to share.”
Ridge snorts, and my heart starts to pound. Oh my God, if I’m Cannon’s girlfriend and he’s learning to share me that means… No, he was kidding. He and Ridge are friends. They kid around, that’s how guys are. I will not get my hopes up about this thing with Ash. Whatever it is, it isn’t permanent.
I know all about his reputation as a fast-paced playboy, and although he has been a perfect gentleman outside the bedroom and has practically invited me into his life and his son’s life, I have to consider my family.
“I’d let Cannon give you the grand tour, but you’d never make it back in time for dinner,” Ash says when we enter the foyer. Three steps in, I stop and our arms pull taut when he keeps walking yanking him back a step. I can’t help it. There’s too much to take in, and I can't possibly breeze through without pausing.