Erica apparently didn’t like the state of my fridge, freezer, or pantry, because they are all full to bursting now. It feels good, seeing a woman’s touch in the old farmhouse again, even if it is small. I don’t think that the kitchen has been this full since my mother passed away.
I hear the crack of thunder and my body jolts. Running out to the barn, I check to see if Starlight is tucked away. Arriving at the barn, I hear her neigh, but notice that she’s safe and sound.
Unable to go back into the empty house, I sit down in the old chair next to her stall. That’s where I spend the rest of the evening, with my horse. The only fucking female on this earth that seems to want me around.
STEPHANIE
Kirill sits across from me, the same restaurant as a few days ago, another vodka in his hand to my water. He smirks, tilting his head to the side and jerking his chin toward my glass.
“Water?” he asks. “Would you like wine, champagne?”
Shaking my head, I try not to fidget, but find that this handsome man makes it extremely hard to stay calm in front of him. He is unnerving and not just because he’s dangerously good looking, but simply because of who he is and what he stands for.
“No thank you,” I whisper.
He hums. “You have not left. He was here, was he not?”
“Who?”
His lips turn up into a smirk. “Your cowboy.”
“How did you know?”
I don’t know why I ask. I probably shouldn’t, because I’m not sure if I truly want to know the answer. And I was always taught not to ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.
“I have a man on you, just to be safe.”
“Safe?” I breathe.
“You know how these things go. You go to the paparazzi, the police? Things could get bad.”
Fuck. Ford was right. This is trouble, serious fucking trouble. I try to stay calm, though my heart is pounding a million miles a minute and the blood is roaring through my entire body.
“I also know that Sebastian tried to get into your house, but the cowboy was there, talked to him and ran him off.”
Frowning, I lift my head and tilt it to the side. Shocked by his words. Not once did Ford mention that Sebastian had been at my place. I don’t know what the fuck is going on and how this man knows more about my own life than I do, but I’m already over it.
“I don’t want to be indebted to you, to anyone. What can I do?”
He grins. “Asking me that, indebts you to me, krasavitsa.”
“I’m in over my head,” I whisper.
Kirill lets out a loud bark of laughter, his head thrown backward before he straightens himself, his smile still wide on his face. He shakes his head a couple of times, shaking the laughter away before he composes himself.
“You are. I thought you were leaving town, no?”
“It didn’t work out.”
He tsks. “But it could. Love always finds a way, but you must put yourself in its path at times. Trust me on that.”
“It’s been too long. Seventeen years and a whole lifetime apart. It’s just too much time.”
Before I realize what’s happening, I feel his hand touch my shoulder from across the table. Lifting my gaze to meet his, I gasp at the look in his eyes.
“It has not been too long. It can never be too long. A person can be too stubborn, but it can never be too long.”
Licking my lips, I press them together, rolling them around a few times. “I don’t know what to do,” I whisper. “This situation terrifies me, and I put myself in the middle of it.”
“You did. But you came from a place of self-preservation, so I understand it. Sebastian will not be an issue. I’ve taken care of him. Your house is no longer under surveillance, not unless I find a reason for it to be again. You are free, krasavitsa.”
“Nobody is ever free,” I breathe.
He grunts, but the sound is softer rather than harsh. “You are correct. But in this case, you are free of Sebastian’s wrongdoings. You are also free of the bratva and me, unless you need me.”
“And needing you would come at a price? How high is it?” I ask.
Kirill holds my gaze for a long while. “No price for you, Stephanie.”
“Why?”
His lips twitch. “You remind me much of my Tati. I have a soft spot for my wife, probably too soft.”
“She’s very beautiful,” I point out.
His lips curl up into a grin as he stares off into the distance for a moment as if thinking about his gorgeous wife.
“She is. Very much so,” he murmurs. “But that is not the only reason you remind me of her. You are strong, as is she. You have survived, but you love this cowboy. You have for many years and you ran from him, just like my Tati ran from me when we were young. Different reasons, naturally, but the same outcome. Many years of loneliness and pain.”
“So many years,” I whisper.
He nods his head once, his gaze flicking back to meet mine. “It takes a strong man to come and humble himself for a woman. An even stronger man to let her go because he thinks it’s what she wants.”
“Is that what he thinks?”
Kirill stands, brushing his expensive suit pants off. “I’ve looked into him. He is not weak. He is a man much like me, a proud one. Let’s just say, I was not as strong as he is. I forced my Tati back to me, kicking and screaming, along with threats. I would never have let her go, even if I knew she would have been happier without me.”
I shiver at his words. My lips part in awe that he’s being so forthcoming. I have a feeling that this man does not talk candidly about his personal life often, if ever.
“So, all of that being said. You, krasavitsa, are no longer on my radar. Sebastian will not be a problem any longer. Live the life that you want, Stephanie.”
“He’s not…”
Kirill chuckles. “My statement still stands, dead men do not pay. But he is not free to roam around and cause problems anymore. Not until his debts have been handled.”
Without another word, I watch the tall Russian turn around and stroll out of the restaurant. Every patron’s eyes follow him, including mine. I can’t help but wonder what kind of life he leads. It must be packed full of action.
The thought makes my stomach clench. I don’t want that. It’s as if suddenly, the answer is right in front of me. It’s been there the whole time, I started the process days ago, and it’s never been more obvious that I was making the right choice.
I don’t want action, not anymore.
I want boring.
I want simple.
I want Ford.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
STEPHANIE
Damion arches his brow toward me as my attorney goes over the contract that I have with the studio. It’s pretty ironclad. I have to fulfill my promises, meaning I have to complete the last movie in the series that I have been in over the last few years and one more, the title and date to be determined.
They own me. Until they have a title they want me to be in, until filming starts on this last movie. Both of which could mean years. I could sell everything and live in Texas, but I would need to come back for filming, for months at a time.
I don’t know how Ford would feel about that, if he would be okay with it, and honestly, I don’t know if I want to do it. I feel that finishing up the series is necessary, but the last movie in my contract, I want it gone.
“What if I only promised to film the last in the series? How can I get out of the other movie?”
My attorney leans back, tilting his head to the side as he watches me. “Why do you want to? It’s a guaranteed paycheck.”
Nodding, I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to tell him to fuck off. It’s not his fault, and he doesn’t know anything about my situation. We are one hundred percent client and attorney. I don’t even know his first name.
“I’m quitting the business,” I state.
He blinks, his brows lifting high as he watche
s me. “Quitting?” he asks.
I hum as I nod my head. “I’m done. I want a simple life. I want to go back home, plant some roots.”
“You have roots here.”
Shrugging a shoulder, I shake my head. “I have a house here, but that doesn’t constitute roots. I’m ready to go back home.”
He grunts, obviously not impressed with my answer. “I think I can get you out of the last movie, as long as I promise the series completion. I can make them aware that this will be your finale?”
I think about his words. Finale is so… final. I’m banking on Ford wanting me with him. I’m banking on a lot, but it’s worth it all, even just for the chance to have a slice of happiness all for myself, something that I should have been happy with seventeen years ago.
Even if things didn’t work out with Ford, I’ve managed my money well enough to live the rest of my life, comfortably, without needing to work. So, if this movie is my last, then that’s fine by me. It’s a bittersweet thing to agree to, but I can’t deny that it feels almost freeing.
“It can be marketed as my final film,” I agree.
He nods his head. “Let me contact the studio, see what we can do. Also, do you want me to see if there’s a lockdown date for the final film in the series?”
“Please,” I nod.
He grunts. “I’ll call you when I hear. Answer your phone,” he barks.
The meeting is over. That’s the way he is. He’s issued his last words and now his head is tilted downward while he writes on his yellow legal pad. Standing, Damion follows suit, and together we walk out of the office and toward the elevator.
“That kind of sounded promising,” he mutters once the elevator doors have closed.
Turning my head toward him, my lips twitch into a small smile. “Not really.”
“I mean, the studio might bite on the last movie ever made thing. It could make for good promo.”
“It could,” I agree, turning to look at the closed doors.
Damion is quiet, then he reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “This is a huge change, girlie,” he whispers. “Like gigantic.”
“I know.”
He’s quiet as the doors open and together, we walk out and toward the car in silence. I’m thankful for the quiet. I have a bit to think about, though why does all of this seem to be such a hard decision to make or rather, to accept?
I feel like my decision was made a while ago, the moment I stepped back in Gallup and was assaulted by not only memories but indescribable feelings as well.
The second I drove my car past the city limit sign, I felt at home. The weight of the world that I’d been carrying for so long, it completely disappeared. It’s where I am meant to be, where I was always meant to be.
“I’ll need you during this movie, but after that… I won’t be upset if you leave me before then,” I whisper.
Damion snorts. “I am not going anywhere, not until you’re tucked all safe and sound in that little town, curled up next to your cowboy.”
“What if he doesn’t want me?”
Damion snorts. “He wants you. He may not know how he feels about that, but make no mistake he still wants you, badly. Plus, how are you so insecure? You are not that girl.”
Nodding, I lick my lips. “I know. I’m really not, but with him…”
“You got a plan to get him back?”
Turning to him, my lips curve up into a grin. “Hopefully he’ll take me back, but yeah, I have a plan.”
Damion laughs as he takes the off-ramp to my place. “I can’t wait to see it all unfold. Would it be weird if I joined you on this trip, just to watch it all happen?”
“Do you want to come to Gallup?” I ask.
I think about the small town and the small-town attitude that comes along with it. There was a reason that I didn’t invite Damion to come with me the first time I went back. Gallup is so far from being anywhere near LA, I wouldn’t want his feelings to get hurt if someone said something to him.
“Are you hesitating because you don’t want me to go, or because you think some hick is going to hurt my delicate feelings?” I gasp as he pulls up my driveway. “Girlie, do you think I didn’t receive my fair share of everything in my life? I have. I’m a big boy and I want to see your little hometown.”
“Okay. We leave in a week,” I whisper.
“A week?”
Nodding, I look over to him, my hand on the handle of the door. “I’m not fucking around with this. If I wait too long, he’ll think that I don’t care about him.”
“Love him. Practice saying it, he’s going to need to hear that from you.”
“I haven’t said that to anyone other than my parents in seventeen years.”
Damion laughs softly. “You better get practicing, girlie, man like that, as many times as you’ve turned your back on him, he’s going to need you to say that shit first.”
“How awful,” I say, wrinkling my nose.
“Love is kind of terrible, but I wouldn’t mind telling a sexy cowboy that I loved him.”
Smiling, I tilt my head to the side, resting it against his shoulder. “Yeah, considering he’s the only man I’ve ever said those words to, I guess I’m just out of practice.”
He hums and we sit in silence for a few moments. “Okay. Now, we leave in a week, do I need chaps? Ass-less ones?”
Pinching my eyes closed, I let out a bark of laughter at his words and the images that flash in my head of him wearing said ass-less chaps. Though all chaps are ass-less, so I think he just means chaps without jeans on underneath.
I’m glad that he’s coming with me, if nothing else, he’ll keep me laughing and maybe ease some of my tension and apprehension at what I’ve laid out for my future, or lack thereof.
All I know is that I want Ford and I don’t really care about anything else right now.
FORD
I don’t sleep. I barely eat. Seems as though my life has regained its normalcy since everything went to shit, again. The only good things to come out of the past few months is that Erica stocked me up, so when I do want to eat again, I’ll have something jarred in my pantry. Also, selling my beef cattle went better than I’d imagined, and I won’t be flat fucking broke after I pay all of my bills.
“You better not avoid the girls much longer, Exeter is starting to take it personally,” a voice calls out.
Pausing, I lift my head, shifting my hat off to wipe the sweat off of my brow and look at Wyatt and Rylan who are both standing a few feet away from me.
“Not avoiding anyone. I got them girls on a mission, they find me a date yet?” I ask.
“A wife, you mean?” Wyatt asks on a chuckle.
“Same thing,” I say with a shrug.
Rylan shakes his head, his eyes searching my face, and I find that he’s far too fucking observant. I don’t say anything else, instead just watching, and waiting for them to tell me whatever the fuck they came here to say. I know them and I know at least Wyatt has something on his mind.
“You need to tell us what the fuck happened,” Wyatt finally says with a sigh.
I grunt, jerking my chin toward my YETI cooler full of water, beer, and Gatorade. Lifting the top, I dip my chin and watch as they each take out a water, I do too, even if the beer is calling my name. It’s too early in the day to crack a cold one right now though, even though it sounds really fucking good right about now.
“Went to her, she’s mixed up with her ex and some bad shit he got her into. I left.”
“You left her in trouble?” Rylan grinds out.
Sitting down on the top of the cooler lid, I rest my forearms against my knees and tilt my head up to look at them.
“I walked away because that was a mess she inserted herself into. Probably makes me a dick. God knows I feel like one and the guilt is eating me up every minute of every day.”
“Why’d you do it then?” Wyatt asks, his voice calm and even.
Shaking my head, I close my eyes for a moment. “I could hav
e stayed, fought that fight with her, but at the end of the day, I can’t make her choose me. She ran away from me, to him, in an effort to save him and I suppose self-preservation. What she didn’t do was talk to me, again.”
“I get it,” Wyatt whispers. “She keeps making decisions for you.”
I grunt. He knows exactly how it feels, and how it makes you feel. Helpless. Completely fucking helpless and for a man to feel that way, especially men like us, it’s just too fucking much.
“What happens now?” Rylan asks.
Standing, I lift my hand and wrap my fingers around the back of my neck as my gaze flicks to each of my friends. I’ve known them my entire life, along with Beaumont and Louis, they’re the best men I’ve ever known. I trust them, value their opinions, but I don’t want them when it comes to this situation.
“The girls want to come out here, have a party Friday night? That’d be good. Erica made all kinds of canned shit and stocked my pantry. I can’t eat everything I got. We’ll have a cookout.”
“Okay, but you and Stephanie?” Rylan presses.
“Told her she knew where I was. But I’m not going to wait for her, I can’t. She made her choice. Fucking sucks that this is what it is, but I can’t change it either.”
“So, you’re going to leave her in danger? That don’t sound much like the Ford I know,” Wyatt points out.
“That fuck got her mixed up with the fucking mafia,” I hiss. “She thinks they’re friendly. Aside from dragging her out here, she made it pretty fucking clear that she had things to do there. And don’t forget, she ran to him.”
“It’s about pride?” Rylan asks.
I snort. “Went to her, didn’t I?”
“But did you humble yourself for her?” Wyatt asks.
“Been humble for her my whole fucking life. It’s only ever been Stephanie for me. No other woman has ever compared and I expected her to feel the same way when she never has. It’s better this way. I want a family. I want someone to pass this ranch down to. I want to at least try to be happy.”
“It’s not unreasonable,” Rylan rasps.
COWBOY (Unfit Hero Book 5) Page 20