Opening the door, I step to the side and allow him to walk past me. He’s carrying two coffees and his Hammitt work bag that I bought him for his birthday when I saw him drooling over them in a boutique.
“Almond milk,” he says, shoving the drink toward me.
Taking it, I bring it to my lips, taking a sip as he makes his way into my living room. Closing the front door, I make sure to lock it up tightly before I make my way into the living room to meet Damion.
“Okay, you’ve avoided me for far too long,” he snaps as soon as I sink down in the chair and half across from him.
Shifting my gaze to the floor, my shoulders slump and I stay silent. I don’t want him mixed up with this shit. I don’t need anyone to hurt him. Not that I think Kirill would, but he’s still a freaking bad guy.
“You did a fucking interview without your assistant, what the actual fuck?”
My eyes widen and lift to meet his. He’s pissed. Really pissed. “Some shit went down,” I mutter.
“Really? I thought everything was fucking normal,” he snorts.
“Damion.”
“No,” he shouts. “No. You don’t get to push me away like that, not for this. I get you’re private, boy do I get it, but Sterling, you have to let me in on what the hell is going on here. You go back to your hometown, you see your cowboy, all those photos are leaked, and then what?”
“Call me Stephanie, please. Sebastian is threatening to leak a tape, now.”
“Why?”
My eyes flick around the room, avoiding his, but Damion isn’t having it. He snaps his fingers between us and I shift my gaze to meet his. He looks extremely impatient and I know that he wants all of the details.
“Stephanie, tell me what is going on, you’re scaring me.”
I shake my head. I don’t want him involved, even if I’m not really his friend, to me, he’s one of my only friends.
“Stephanie, as your friend, I demand to know.”
“My friend?” I whisper.
He frowns, then shakes his head. “Your friend,” he says with a nod.
“Just know, anything that happens it won’t affect your position or your income, not if I can help it,” I murmur.
He jerks his head back as if I’ve slapped him and shakes it a couple of times. “What on earth? Why would I give a fuck about that? Honey, no offense, but I’m the best in the biz, I could get a job anywhere. I choose to work for my best friend.”
“Best friend?” I whisper.
“What the fuck, Steph?” he growls.
Pressing my lips together, I roll them around as I look into his eyes. “I just. I didn’t think…”
He shakes his head once. “You don’t really think about that stuff. But I consider you my best friend. I don’t know what’s so hard to fathom about that. You’re kind, generous, loyal, sweet, and funny as shit. Plus, you’ve been through every breakup with me, held my hand and got me drunk when I needed it. Of course, you’re my best friend.”
“Damion,” I breathe.
He grins, reaching across to me he takes my hand in his and squeezes me. Then he stands with a huff and stomps toward me. Scooting over quickly, I giggle as he flops down in the chair next to me. He takes my hand in his again, my giggle dying when his fingers lace with my own.
“What the fuck is going on,” he whispers.
“Sebastian got caught up with the Russian mob,” I admit softly.
There’s a moment of silence and I expect Damion to freak the fuck out, about the same way I did the first time that I heard it, but he doesn’t. Instead, he throws his head back and starts to laugh.
“That dumb motherfucker,” he wheezes.
“It’s not funny. He was planning on selling a sex tape of us, then one of me and Ford that he had some PI take, both I didn’t even know existed.”
“He’s a dumb motherfucker,” Damion repeats. “Let me guess, he made you meet with them, tried to put you in the middle of it all, too?”
“How’d you know?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I saw some pictures of you and a sexy as fuck guy at a Russian restaurant in West Hollywood. I thought maybe you’d met a sexy daddy, but now I know it was fucking Sebastian and his stink.”
Damion’s lip curls and he wrinkles his nose as if he does indeed smell something bad. Tilting my head, I rest it against his shoulder.
“Kirill is very nice, happily married to a blonde bombshell, and has promised that there won’t be any blowback. He says I don’t need to worry about any of it and the videos have all been destroyed.”
He doesn’t say anything right away and I think that he’s going to drop the whole thing, but he doesn’t.
“I’m sure he was nice because you’re a beautiful woman, but you don’t need to be mixed up with them at all. They have a stable of girls, they run drugs, they do a lot of shady shit and you don’t need to be friends with any of them,” he mutters.
“I don’t plan on it,” I grumble.
“Good, now let’s talk about Cowboy. When are you going back to Texas?”
“I’m not,” I say. He makes a noise in the back of his throat. “What?”
He doesn’t say anything immediately, his fingers squeezing mine, then he decides to speak. “I’d never heard you as excited, as nervous, as happy as you were when you were there. Do you think that maybe you should explore that?”
“It’s just not possible,” I whisper.
“How was the sex?” he asks, assuming that I slept with him and he’s right.
“Best I ever had,” I say without hesitation.
FORD
The plane touches down and I hold my breath as it bounces along the tarmac. Fucking hell, I hate to fly. This is the second time flying out here and I never plan on doing it again, not unless I’m forced for whatever reason, but the jet-setter life is obviously not for me.
I prefer my truck, a country road, and to be in control. Waiting like fucking sheep, we’re finally given permission to leave the plane. Making my way toward baggage claim, I find my luggage and turn around searching for the car rental place.
“Don’t fuckin’ bother,” a voice grunts from behind me.
Turning around, my lips curve up into a smile at the sight of the man standing with his legs spread and his arms crossed over his chest.
“Beaumont,” I murmur, taking a step toward him. I throw my arm over his shoulder, thumping him on the back in a hug.
“Couldn’t let you navigate LA traffic alone,” he says with a chuckle.
“What? Like it’s worse than Dallas, Houston, or Austin?” I ask.
He shakes his head once. “Yeah, it fuckin’ is.” He laughs. “My car is waiting, Hutton and the baby are inside, let’s go.”
Tugging my suitcase behind me, I follow my friend. “How’d you know what flight I took?” I ask.
“Asked Wyatt.”
Friends. No. Family. That’s what they are, and I’m a lucky bastard to have them. Without a word, we make our way toward the pick-up area. There is a big black SUV parked and running, I know without a doubt that it’s Beau’s.
I hear someone scream his name, and he grunts as his feet move faster. Without a word, a man appears, opening his door, and I watch as my friend practically dives into the backseat. The man takes my luggage from me wordlessly, and I follow behind Beau and climb into the back of the car myself.
“Hey, Ford,” a sweet voice calls out from behind me.
Turning around, I see Hutton with a baby carrier strapped in next to her. “Hey, Hutt.” I smile.
Her eyes are alight with mischief and I wonder just what the fool woman is up to. Thankfully, she doesn’t make me wait too long to find out. She smiles widely, licking her lips as her gaze shifts from Beaumont, then back to me.
“Dinner tonight?” she asks. “Where are you staying?”
I don’t know why she’s acting like dinner is some big thing, I have dinner with them all the time.
“He’s staying with us,” Beau
mont snaps.
“I’m staying at the Surfrider,” I grumble.
“Bullshit,” Beau barks. “That place is too expensive, plus I have a feeling you’ll only need a room for one night, after that you’ll be staying with your woman.”
I almost laugh in his face, but I don’t. Honestly, I have no clue what’s going to happen. I know that I said that I wasn’t going to take no for an answer, but really, I just don’t know. I’m not the kind of man to force her to do anything, probably why I can’t fucking keep her around in the first place.
Instead of arguing with him, I just thank him for the place to stay. Hutton giggles behind me and I know that she’s up to something, I just don’t know what the fuck it is.
Leaning back in the seat, I close my eyes for a moment, thinking about everything that’s happened the past few months, wondering if all of this shit is going to be completely fruitless. Stephanie could tell me to just turn my ass around and get the fuck out. She just might.
The idea of not having her after she came back to Gallup and we were together, after I’d had a taste of what I’ve been missing for seventeen years, it’s really starting to fuck me up. I keep wondering if this could be all in my head, if maybe I’m in love with the idea of the past, and what could have been, instead of actually her.
“You’re thinkin’ too hard, brother,” Beaumont says.
Turning toward him, I’m surprised to see that he’s standing at the open door. Looking behind me, I blink when I see that the back seat is now empty. I hadn’t realized that we were stopped, let alone everyone had filed out of the car.
“Am I?” I ask.
He nods his head, his eyes searching mine. “Yeah, c’mon inside. Get cleaned up and we’ll hang out before dinner.”
“You cookin’?” I ask.
“Got some fancy as fuck steaks at the market,” he murmurs.
I arch a brow, knowing that he had to have spent way too much money on them, because they upcharge like a motherfucker.
“Yeah?” I ask.
His lips curve up into a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, some grass-fed bullshit from some fuckin’ ranch in Texas, FBM Ranch or some such bullshit.”
“What?”
He chuckles. “Big ass deal here, didn’t you know? Your shit is practically famous.”
“No, I didn’t,” I mutter.
He nods. “Yeah. You’ve made a name for yourself, Ford.”
“You’re telling me this because?”
He tilts his head to the side. “No reason, just tellin’ ya.”
Arching a brow, I don’t call him on his bullshit. Instead, I climb out of the SUV and make my way around the front of it and toward him. Together we make our way inside and I think about Stephanie, about my cattle company, about everything that Beaumont isn’t saying.
All of it.
I can feel it, deep in my bones. This trip is going to change my entire life. I just don’t know what the outcome is going to be and that shit terrifies me, but it’s time for me to make a change, no matter what the future looks like. I’m done being a spectator in my own life.
Chapter Twenty-One
STEPHANIE
I’m standing in Beaumont’s back yard wondering if this was the right move to make.
“You’re going to be just fine,” Damion announces, interrupting my internal flip-flopping.
“Am I?” I ask.
He snorts, taking a sip from his mimosa. He’s lying down on Beau’s lounger, his shades on as he watches the sunset. The swimming pool is practically glittering in the distance, and I wonder just how I can be surrounded by all of this beauty and be absolutely miserable on the inside.
“You heard from the douchebag?”
I shake my head, knowing that he’s asking me about Sebastian. I haven’t heard anything from him since my last meet up with Kirill at his home. I have no clue if Sebastian is alive or dead, and there’s a little part of me that doesn’t even care one way or the other.
“I should probably go by his place, make sure he’s okay,” I murmur.
“Fuck that,” Damion snaps.
Turning to look over my shoulder at him, my eyes widen and I shake my head. “He’s still a person,” I point out.
He grunts, taking another sip of his mimosa. “He may be, but he sold titty pictures of you to the highest bidder. That makes him fucking scum in my book and therefore he doesn’t deserve your caring consideration.”
“I think that’s enough mimosa, Damion,” I whisper, reaching for his glass.
He moves his hand out of my reach and shakes his head. “First off, never take a man’s mimosa. Secondly, there can never be too much mimosa.”
“Why are you even drinking that? It’s six in the evening.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “It’s always a good time for a mimosa.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t. He’s not wrong. Mimosas really are always good. Instead of arguing with him over his alcoholic beverage, I shift the conversation back to Sebastian. I chew on my bottom lip and take my phone out of my pocket.
“Maybe I should just call him.”
“Stephanie,” Damion barks.
Lifting my eyes to meet his, my teeth sink into the flesh of my lip. “What?”
He rolls his eyes. “Seriously, the Russian wasn’t fucking around when he said that he couldn’t get his money from a dead man,” Damion reminds me. “He is fine, that big badass probably just told him to stay away from you. You do realize that you owe that man absolutely nothing, right?”
Nodding, I shift my gaze to the setting sun. “Yeah, I know,” I agree. “It’s hard though. I don’t want him, I don’t even like him, but I do care for him still.”
“Because you’re a good person, babe. You’d also never sell pictures of his miniscule wiener for all the world to see, but he had no issue doing that with your gorgeous rack.”
“It wasn’t miniscule,” I mutter.
“It wasn’t a gigantic anaconda either.”
I can’t help it and I can’t stop myself, I burst out laughing. It’s a belly laugh that completely takes over my entire body, and I even let out a snort before I calm myself down. Shaking my head, I bite the inside of my cheek before I release the skin.
“No, it definitely wasn’t that,” I whisper.
“But that fine cowboy?” he asks.
Pressing my lips together, I roll them as I shake my head. “I’m not divulging that, no way.”
“You’re afraid that I’ll want to take a test drive, I understand,” he says with a shrug.
I laugh softly, shoving my phone in my back pocket again before I do something stupid like text Sebastian to see if he’s okay. I shouldn’t even be thinking about him anymore. I need to focus on my career and Ford, nothing else.
“Have you made a decision?” Damion asks me.
He knows everything now. I spilled the entire drama the night that he came over, all pissed off that I’d been avoiding him. We’ve morphed from boss and employee to friends.
Maybe it isn’t so much of a morph as it was me waking up and seeing what was always right in front of me. A true friendship that had been budding and building for years. If nothing else comes out of this, at least I have this friendship with Damion.
In a perfect world, I’ll have Ford too, but I’m not holding my breath. I walked away from him a second time and I don’t know if I could take him back if he did that to me.
How can I expect him to take me back?
How can his heart not be completely cold, hard and angry toward me?
I’ve treated him like shit, as if he was worthless and I turned my back on him. I don’t know how to make it right, but I plan on trying if he’ll let me, because I want him—I want us. I’ve been so damn stupid and selfish. I don’t deserve any part of him. Not a single ounce of the man that he is.
“Holy shit,” Damion breathes.
I don’t bother turning around, I know exactly what he sees behind me. He sees a tall, wide-shouldere
d, thick-waisted cowboy.
Closing my eyes, I inhale a deep breath before I reopen them. Before I can even turn around to face him, his voice washes over my body and sends a shiver of excitement down my spine.
“Hey, honey,” he rumbles.
FORD
“Holy shit,” the man lounging next to Stephanie exhales, again.
He’s holding a champagne glass, wearing sunglasses and looking directly at me. If I’m not mistaken, he’s also wearing pink lipstick. I don’t really pay much mind to him though, there is only one thing that I want to look at in this whole entire city and she’s got her back to me.
She spins around and I take her in. A sight for sore eyes, that’s exactly what she is. My lips twitch into a smile as I watch her, just looking at her and memorizing the moment. This could be the end, hell if I know. I can’t read her thoughts, not that I ever truly could.
“Cowboy,” she breathes.
“You wanna tell me why you took off again?” I ask, unable to be tactful at all whatsoever.
The man on the lounger chokes on his drink, but once again, I don’t even pay him a minute of my time. Licking my bottom lip, I watch her, waiting for her answer.
“We have quite a bit to talk about,” she murmurs.
“You think?”
She frowns, her brows snapping together before she inhales a deep breath. “After dinner with our friends and I want to introduce you to one of my best friends,” she says, her arm swinging out to the man at her side.
“I’m Damion,” he says, extending his arm toward me.
Tipping my chin down, I close the distance between us and give him a hearty handshake. He grins toward me, his teeth blinding white. “Howd’a do?”
“Oh my God, can you please say y’all for me. I mean, I’ve heard Stephanie say it when she’s good and mad, lost in a rant, but her accent is so watered down anymore. Please say it for me, please, please,” he begs.
I chuckle, giving up a smile. “Howdy y’all,” I say in my best twang.
He gasps, placing his hand over his heart and dramatically falling back against the lounger. “If you don’t take him to bed and keep him forever, I’m going to slide right in there, girlie,” he says to Stephanie.
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