COWBOY (Unfit Hero Book 5)

by Hayley Faiman

  I chuckle, shaking my head. “Yeah, that parts good, huh?”

  “The best,” she whispers.

  “You’re movin’ to the farmhouse, then.”

  STEPHANIE

  My eyes widen at his words. “What?” I exhale.

  He chuckles, his face softening as it warms all at the same time. “You want to do this, we’re doin’ it all the way and I want you in my house and in my bed. There’s no time to fuck around, honey.”

  “It’s too soon, what if—”

  He lifts his hand, cutting me off in an instant. “I don’t give much of a fuck about what-ifs. I’m thirty-five, I’m ready to start my life. If you want the same, then why not start now?”

  I press my lips together, rolling them as I shift my gaze from his to the wall behind him then back again.

  “I’m scared,” I admit.

  He smirks. “Yeah, got that, honey. It’s a scary thing. But this is what I want. If you’re all in, you gotta show that to me.”

  “So, I have to prove myself to you?” I quip.

  He shrugs a shoulder, reaching for a piece of bread. “Don’t know what you’d call it, but I gotta know you’re in this, all in.”

  “I have a bad track record, I get that,” I murmur. “But I don’t want to screw this up by moving too fast either.”

  Ford brings another piece of bread to his lips and tears off a chunk. I watch, oddly mesmerized by the action and the way that his strong jaw moves as he chews his food.

  Pressing my thighs together, I wonder why him eating turns me on, but it does, at least right now. It’s downright distracting, is what it is.

  “It ain’t too fast, Stephanie. It’s been a lifetime in the making. Known you my whole fuckin’ life,” he points out. “Granted, we have plenty new to learn from one another, but I’m not going to court you again, we aren’t kids anymore.”

  “If I say no?”

  He shrugs a shoulder. “Would be really fuckin’ awful, because I work a hell of a lot of hours and we wouldn’t see one another much.”

  Dropping my chin, I look down at my lap, then slowly lift my gaze back to meet his. “I’m all in, Ford. If you think moving in right now isn’t too fast, then I’m in.”

  He doesn’t show any kind of reaction to my words. I wait for him to speak, to smile or something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches me for a moment. Then he wets his bottom lip, the move erotically sexy which distracts me all over again.

  “Compromise?”

  I can’t help but smile. Compromise. For an in-charge kind of alpha, I love this part about him. He always sees the wisdom in a good compromise and it’s one of the reasons I’ve loved him and have compared every man to him.

  No other has ever come close to being anything like him. To being the perfect amount of soft and hard all at the same time. Only Ford can pull that off and make me want him every time.

  “You can live in the main house, I’ll live in the little house. That way we’re close, but it doesn’t feel like we’re jumping right into anything.”

  I think about his words. I like his idea, no, I love it. It’s exactly what I need, especially with everything that has been going on and the back and forth we’ve had in just the past few weeks. Nodding, I lift my hand and tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear.

  “I’ll live in the little house though. I only have my clothes in my suitcase. The rest of my stuff won’t be packed up and moved until the house is sold.”

  “I can’t have you out there, it’s too small.”

  I laugh, shaking my head a couple of times. “I agree to your compromise, but you need to agree to my terms within that.”

  He lifts his hand, I’m not sure what he’s going to do next, but signaling the waiter definitely wasn’t what I thought he was going to do.

  “We’re ready to order,” he mutters as soon as the waiter arrives, his eyes never leaving mine.

  I personally haven’t even looked at the menu, but I don’t need it. It’s Italian, and while I need to keep a semblance of my shape for the movie coming up in a few months, I don’t need to watch every morsel that passes my lips tonight, so pasta it is.

  Ford orders enough for two people, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. It’s obvious that he works out on the ranch, hard, but also that he enjoys food. He is every bit a hard-working man’s man, every damn inch of him.

  Once we’ve ordered, only then does Ford continue our conversation. “Okay, you win.”

  “I win?”

  “You can stay in the tiny house. For now.”

  Smiling, I shake my head, my eyes finding his and holding them. “I’m ready for the future.”

  “It’s going to be a lot of hard work.”

  Nodding, I reach across the table and take his hand, again. This time, he laces his fingers with mine, we hold on to one another for a moment before I speak.

  “I know that it is. I’ve never looked forward to hard work like I am to this new endeavor with you.”

  “Can’t just turn your back and run, not when we’re going to build a life, a family and a future together.”

  “No more running,” I whisper.

  His lips curve up into a smile. “Thank fuck. It’s about time you came to your senses came back home, to the Matthews ranch where you were always meant to be.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” I ask with a giggle.

  He dips his chin, his eyes focused on mine, and holds my gaze. “Yeah, honey. It’s your home, it’s always been where you belong.”

  My eyes fill with tears, but I don’t let them fall, I swallow them down as our food arrives. We don’t talk about the past for the rest of the dinner. Instead, I tell him everything about my latest conversation with the Russian mob boss in an attempt to ease his mind about that.

  I can tell by the way he clenches his jaw, that it doesn’t ease anything. I remind him that I’m here, with him, and I’ll be living on his ranch, which only relaxes him marginally.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  FORD

  Normally, this would be where I’d try to get my date to either come home with me or go around the back of the building so I could get into her panties. I don’t do either. Holding her hand, I walk her to her rental car. This time it’s a red sports car instead of black.

  “You got a thing for expensive fast cars, honey,” I point out as we approach.

  “It wasn’t me, it was Damion.”

  Arching a brow, my heart squeezes at her mention of another man’s name, even if I know exactly who he is, and that he has no desire for Stephanie.

  “He’s my assistant, he’s never been to Texas and wanted to come with me. Just in…”

  My fingers squeeze hers. “Just in case I was a major asshole and kicked you to the curb?” I ask.

  Stephanie laughs softly. “Basically, yeah.”

  I hum, guiding her so that her ass presses against the driver’s side of the car. Dipping my chin, I look into her pretty blue eyes. Lifting my hand, I tuck her hair behind her ear before trailing my fingers down the side of her face and cupping her jaw.

  “I’ll follow you to the hotel, make sure you get in safe. Tomorrow you’ll bring him to the ranch and move in. He can stay in the main house, got plenty of bedrooms,” I murmur.

  “I couldn’t, Ford. I don’t think you’d be comfortable.”

  “Why? You fuck him?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

  She jerks away from me, or at least attempts to, but I don’t allow it. “Absolutely not. I’m not his type. But you are.”

  My lips twitch into a smile before I let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, I kind of got that impression at Beaumont’s. So you think because I was raised in this small town that I got some small-town bullshit mentality? Is that what you’re implying? Did I treat him badly when I was in LA?”

  “No, but Ford,” she warns.

  “Sorry, honey. You should know me better than that. My parents were good people, who raised me to love all people. Sure, there’s some
small-minded folks around here, but they’re everywhere else, too. You stick around here and Gallup is going to prove you wrong on that shit.”

  “I know you’re not like that, I just…”

  “You just thought that I would have a problem with your friend because he’s gay, right?”

  Her eyes widen at my frankness. It’s what she thought. It’s probably why she didn’t bring him the first time she came swinging into town a few weeks ago.

  “People will talk, Stephanie. They always talk. You gotta figure out if they’re talking because they just like to know who’s who or if they’re bein’ downright mean. Some people were downright mean to Channing a few years ago, but most were just talkin’ to fuckin’ flap their lips because not much happens here.

  “It’ll be the same with your friend and with you, because you ain’t been around for a while and you’re famous. Is that going to bother you? Upset you? You’re made of sterner shit than that, Stephanie LaRue.”

  “Okay,” she snaps. “I get it.”

  “Do you?”

  She licks her lips, her eyes searching mine. “We’ll be by in the morning.”

  “And all our friends will come over in the evening for grilling and hanging out.”

  “Ford,” she sighs.

  “They’ll want to see you and meet him.”

  “They will,” she says, nodding her head.

  Dipping my chin, I touch my mouth to hers. “I’ll see you tomorrow, honey.”

  “Okay,” she breathes.

  I don’t deepen the kiss, instead I keep it soft, light and chaste. Straightening, I take a step back. Her eyes slowly open and she licks her lips. They’re a little swollen and sexy as fuck. I watch as she reaches for the handle of her car door and tugs it open before sinking inside.

  Climbing into my truck, I start the engine and follow her out of the parking lot. I stay close behind her as she drives toward the hotel. When she pulls into a spot, I park behind her, watching as she makes her way inside.

  I think about walking her directly to her room, but decide against it. Leaving the parking lot, I head toward home, then decide to make a quick detour at Rylan’s. I know it was Channing who concocted this whole fucking plan.

  I’m not sure if I should be pissed off at her for not warning me, or hug her for bringing Stephanie back to me the way that she did.

  When I turn down Rylan’s street, I almost pass right by the little house with the For Sale sign in front. Pulling over, I jump out and make my way over to the front porch. My gaze shifts over to the porch swing and I do something that I know I probably shouldn’t.

  When I’m finished breaking the law, I drive directly toward Rylan’s. He’s standing in the front yard, watering the grass with the hose, the sun already having set, I’m surprised to see him outside. Killing my engine, I jump out of the truck and make my way toward him.

  “Figured you’d be by tonight or maybe tomorrow, things not go well?” he asks.

  “You knew?”

  He snorts. “Not until today. Channing couldn’t keep it in another minute longer when she got the confirmation text from Stephanie.”

  “Fuck.” I chuckle. “Your wife around?”

  “Not if you’re gonna be pissed off at her. Brooks’ been teething, she’s been losing sleep, don’t need to add that on her plate.”

  Frowning, I look to the ground, then lift my gaze back up to meet his. “Wouldn’t yell at her, ever. She’s too fucking sweet to be yelled at. Plannin’ on thanking her.”

  “So, it did go well?” he asks, his lips twitching into a grin. “You two back together?”

  Nodding my head, I chuckle. “You could say that. She doesn’t want to go too fast, but she’s moving to the tiny house tomorrow. Wanted to invite y’all out to grill, meet her assistant, Damion.”

  Rylan nods a couple of times. “Livin’ in the tiny house?” he finally asks.

  I grunt. “For a minute.”

  “Probably literally.” He chuckles.

  “Got that right.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  STEPHANIE

  Damion rolls his eyes at me, obviously just as exasperated with me as Ford was when I mentioned that he may not be comfortable with Damion sleeping under his roof.

  “Girlie, there is no reason for you to be upset, worried, or scared. I’m not an alpha male, but I am a man. I’ll be just fine. I’m excited to meet these people who knew you way back when. This is going to be fun.” He grins.

  “He wants to move forward, full throttle,” I whisper as I fall back on the bed.

  Damion lays down next to me. Our hands find one another’s and we lace our fingers together. “I’m happy for you, I really am. Sebastian was a douche and just one look at you and your cowboy together, I can tell what you and Sebastian had was nothing but surface. This is real with him, he’s real and you’re so relaxed around him, even when you’re nervous and jittery.”

  We spend the rest of the evening chatting with one another. I find that I’m melancholy just talking with him, because I know that this is going to be one of the last times that this will happen, and I’m going to miss it.

  I sleep like shit, not because of the future, but because I’m closing a door on the past that just cannot be reopened. I don’t want it to be either, but I am also nervous about what’s to come. I don’t want to lose Damion, but I know that eventually I will.

  The next morning, I pack what little items that I’d taken out of my suitcase. Damion packs up all of his food in plastic bags. I laugh because he has more food than he does luggage. Together, we carry our things out of the hotel before I check out.

  Then, once we’re all loaded up, I inhale a deep breath and drive toward the country. “He really does live out in the sticks,” Damion point out when we’re about twenty minutes outside of town and driving down Ford’s county road.

  “He lives on a working cattle ranch, I told you that, right?”

  There’s a moment of silence as we pass Wyatt and Beaumont’s properties, then I pull up to Ford’s gate.

  “You told me, but I couldn’t picture it.”

  Laughing, I shake my head as I shift the car into park. Just as I push my door open, I hear Damion gasp. Lifting my head, I look up and see Ford on Starlight. He jumps off and walks over to the fence, unwinding the chain, then tugs the gate open and stands to the side.

  “How did he get hotter the second I saw him on that horse?” Damion whispers.

  “He did, didn’t he? You should see him wrangling cattle,” I sigh.

  “I can’t see that, my body and heart can only handle so much.”

  Ford waves us by. I slowly drive up his dirt road, knowing that it’s a pothole mine. I know when Damion sees the farmhouse. I hear his intake of breath and know that he thinks it’s just as majestic as I always have.

  When I was a teenager, before I contemplated leaving for Hollywood, my dreams were filled with this old farmhouse. With how I would decorate it, with how I would fill it with Ford’s babies and a lifetime of love and laughter with the man that I loved.

  “I really fucked up by walking away from him all those years ago, didn’t I?” I ask.

  “Not at all,” Damion whispers. He takes my hand in his as we stare at the old white house. “You had a dream to fulfill, a detour, but you’re back here and you’re going to be just fine—both of you.”

  “I hope so,” I whisper. “I want this to be perfect.”

  Damion laughs. “Nothing is perfect, so this won’t be either.”

  “I know, I just want it to be our perfect.”

  The door opens and I grin, looking over to see Ford with his chin dipped, his cowboy hat affixed in place and a smile on his lips. Unclicking my seatbelt, I shift my legs over and stand up, immediately throwing my arms around his neck.

  “Fuck,” he bites, burying his face in my neck as he squeezes me and lifts me up off of the ground before he spins me in a full circle. He lets me down, keeping his arm around me as he holds m
e against his chest. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he breathes.

  “You just saw me last night.” I laugh as he releases me, taking a step back.

  Ford hums, his eyes searching mine. “Yeah, but you’re here on my land. Your shits in the back of the car and you’re stayin’, permanently.”

  “I am,” I agree. “You’ll never get rid of me again, Ford Matthews.”

  “I’m fuckin’ countin’ on it, honey.”

  “Okay, you two are too cute. I need a drink or something. I can’t handle it,” Damion shouts.

  We both smile, mine turns into a giggle as I turn to look back at Damion from over my shoulder. “How about we get you settled in?” I ask.

  “I need a place for my babies.”

  “Babies?” Ford whispers.

  Turning back to face him, my smile stays firmly intact. “His HEB tortillas. He has a problem.”

  “They’re pretty fuckin’ good, though.” Ford chuckles. “C’mon inside, you can have full access to the kitchen, I never use it anyway.”

  “You don’t?” I ask.

  Ford takes a step, then stops, looking back over his shoulder at me. “Don’t cook, honey. I grill and I microwave.”

  I don’t say anything else, I don’t know what to say, but what I do know is that all of that changes right now. I’m not a fantastic chef or anything, but what I am is someone who can at least make a few simple things, and I plan on doing so for him in the very near future.

  It doesn’t take us long to unload all of Damion’s things or to put him up in one of the guest rooms. Ford informed me that he changed the sheets this morning, so he has fresh sheets and towels.

  “This house needs updating,” Damion whispers after Ford leaves us alone to get back to work before the dinner this evening.

  “I know,” I agree.

  “Like a lot of work,” he mumbles.