by Erica Penrod
“It’s not bad.” More clanking. Saige must be in the silverware drawer. “In fact, it’s quite the opposite, and that’s why I need food for thought. I know you, and you’ll mess this up.”
“Thanks.”
Saige chuckled. “This guy makes you feel something, which terrifies you, and you’ll resent him for it before you give him a chance.”
Tayla scowled and gritted her teeth, wishing they were Facetiming for Saige to get the full effect. “I would not.” Her heart slowed as if the truth were like an anchor bound around the muscle. Saige was right, but perhaps not as right as she believed. “Besides, if I’m pushing him away, then why did I kiss him tonight?”
A choking sound was followed by a coughing fit. “Y-y-you did what?” Saige finally got the words out.
“I said I kissed him,” Tayla said smugly, enjoying the sensation until her hands started to shake and her fingertips went numb.
“Let me guess: you’re freaking out right now?” Saige knew her so well. “Okay, calm down, and we’ll sort this out like you would if Waylon were any other addict you’d met at one of the rehabs.”
Tayla shook out her limbs and drew in a deep breath. “Okay.” She cared about the people and their families who came to the rehab centers. Many of them became dear friends. “I guess I could do that.”
“Of course you can. Be his friend, get to know him, and be there for support if he needs it.”
“Yeah.” Tayla exhaled and smiled. “I can do that.” If she focused on Waylon like she did any other patron, she’d eventually discover who the man really was and if he was worth all the palpitations.
“Sweet. I want a full report tomorrow night.”
“I don’t even know if I’ll see him tomorrow.” Tayla’s voice lacked conviction.
“Oh, you’ll see him.” Saige sounded sure. “I know you.”
“Whatever.” Tayla tried to sound indifferent. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She hung up and rolled her eyes. Saige was right—again. Tayla would see Waylon West tomorrow, because she was Tayla Mills and if she wanted something, she would make it happen.
Seven
Waylon dried the breakfast plate and put it in the cupboard, then yawned. His sleep-deprived body and overactive mind were not cooperating well together. Grabbing his lunch box and keys, he headed to work, hoping the work might keep the memory of Tayla’s kiss out of his head. Waylon wouldn’t attend a meeting tonight. He couldn’t risk seeing Tayla again until he could think about her without shortness of breath, dizziness, or a tingling sensation throughout his limbs. Yup, the woman was giving him a heart attack.
The fifteen-minute drive to the work site eased his mind. He turned up the radio, rolled down his window, even though it was lightly raining, and allowed the crisp fall air to fill his lungs. Things would be okay. He would be okay. Eventually he’d get over this, whatever his attraction to Tayla was. His cell phone rang on the seat beside him. It was a number he didn’t recognize, but whoever it was would leave a voicemail if the call was important, and he continued his route to work.
Before he got out of the truck, he shot Jamon a text: Hey, do you mind if I come ride tonight after work? The next best thing to a meeting was spending an hour or two on the back of a horse.
You’re welcome anytime.
Jamon had told Waylon he was free to use his barn and arena any time, but he wanted to be polite and reassure himself he had changed. The old Waylon wouldn’t have bothered asking; he would’ve shown up and done whatever he pleased, believing Jamon somehow owed him.
Thanks. See you later.
No problem. Jamon ended the conversation, and Waylon slipped his phone into his pocket. Reaching over, he picked up his lunch. He got out of the truck and headed towards the opposite end of the building. He whistled as he walked, appreciating the freedom of sobriety and the feel of an honest job. His wages weren’t great and there were times he barely made rent, but he couldn’t complain. His life was headed in a positive direction for the first time in years, and he planned to keep it that way. Tayla Mills was a problem, a detour from his destination, but if he avoided her as much as possible and was patient, she’d be gone in a few months.
An ache emerged from out of nowhere and settled in his bones. Dang that woman. She was bad medicine.
* * *
What was with Waylon? Did he not know how to pick up his phone? Tayla huffed, and the salesman paused. “No, sorry, go on.” She and Misty were picking up her car at the Ferrari dealership. The salesman didn’t seem to understand; she’d already bought the car and didn’t need to be sold on the 488 Spider.
Earlier this morning, Misty had done some research online, and when Tayla had gotten home at noon, she’d shown her a few of her favorites. Tayla had taken one look at the Ferrari and pointed at the screen. “I’ll take that one, in that same color.”
“Are you sure? You haven’t even taken it out for a test drive.” Misty had glanced over at her.
Tayla had laughed. “Um, Misty, it’s a Ferrari.”
“Enough said.” Misty had turned back to the screen. “The phone number is right here.”
Tayla had shifted Charlie to one arm. “Great, call them and tell them we’re coming in.”
An hour later, she and Misty had arrived at the dealership. The money was wired over, and the gorgeous, if not a little ostentatious, royal-blue sports car was hers.
“Thank you.” Tayla slid into the car as the salesman held the door. “If I have any questions, I’ll give you a call.” She set Charlie on the seat beside her, and he quickly began an inspection of his own as he sniffed the leather. “Gary, wasn’t it?”
“Uh, yes.” Gary’s pocked face was a ruddy red. “Are you sure, Ms. Mills? I’d be happy to go over some of the features with you.”
“No, thank you. I’ll read the owner’s manual, and like I said earlier, if I have any questions, I’ll be sure to get in touch with you.” Tayla looked over at Misty. “I’ll meet you back at the house, and then you can take it for a spin.”
Misty’s eyes grew and a smile spread across her face. “Really? I mean, I’d like to, but I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. What if something happened?”
“Don’t worry, it won’t.” She winked at Misty. “But if it does, I’ll buy another one.” Tayla checked her reflection in the rearview mirror, trying not to giggle as Gary swayed. His forehead glistened, and she was almost positive his knees would buckle any moment now. In general, Tayla didn’t flaunt her wealth, but sometimes, like now, she allowed herself a little flamboyancy just for fun.
“See you back home, then.” Misty grinned as she pivoted towards her own car.
Gary closed the door, and Tayla shifted into drive. She waved as she eased out of the parking lot. Tayla wondered what Waylon would think about her new car. If the darn man would ever answer his phone, she could make arrangements and find out.
She’d found his number in Prevail’s system this morning, but she’d already called several times today and got nothing. His voicemail wasn’t set up, and now she was ready for plan B. The obvious choice should’ve been to send him a text, but she was old-fashioned, believing in actual conversation, especially when you wanted to get to know someone on a personal level. Turning her down over the phone or face-to-face would be more difficult than over a text message. She’d call Jamon and see if he knew how she could get in touch with Waylon. Maybe he planned to attend a meeting and she could corner him there. Once her mind was made up, she wouldn’t stop until she reached her goal, and right now, getting to know Waylon West was her objective.
“Come on, Charlie. Should we see what this car can do?”
The puppy barked.
Tayla laughed and pressed the accelerator.
* * *
Tayla’s resolve wasn’t quite made of steel as she walked into Jamon West’s barn, knowing Waylon was somewhere on the premises. Her determination was more like a piece of sheet metal that could easily be bent. Tayla�
��s father would’ve said she was all talk and no action, which she wasn’t, she reminded herself. She gathered Charlie to her chest for reassurance. Jamon had told her that Waylon planned to ride after work, and so she decided to show up, no more phone calls.
Inside the barn, Tayla meandered down the aisle of stalls; the scent of the horses, the hay, and the sawdust invoked a feeling of nostalgia. Her father owned several horses and she’d grown up riding, but for some reason, she’d forgotten how much she enjoyed being around the animals. Charlie wasn’t quite as convinced. He’d lift his head and growl, then retreat into her arms, unsure if the beasts were friends or foes.
“Can I help you, miss?” A man came around the corner, and Tayla jumped. Charlie trembled against her chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He was a bear of a man with a thick beard and the girth of a grizzly.
She stroked Charlie’s head. “It’s okay.” Tayla grinned when she saw the man’s kind, but tired eyes and gentle smile. “I’m looking for Waylon.” She adjusted Charlie and offered the man her hand. “I’m Tayla Mills.”
He nodded. “Ah, Jamon said you’d be stopping by. I’m Howard, a friend of the boys.”
Her heart flipped nervous somersaults, one right after another. “So Waylon knows I’m coming?” Good grief, what was wrong with her? The whole reason she was here was to see Waylon. Whether or not he knew she was coming shouldn’t mean anything. She drew in a breath and tried to appear nonchalant and remember the plan: get to know him and be there for support.
“No.” Howard smiled. His eyes narrowed as his cheeks rounded. “Jamon said not to mention anything to Waylon.”
Her shoulders relaxed.
“Jamon thought you’d be a good surprise for Waylon.” He gave her a wink. “The boy could use a good surprise.”
“Well, I’m not sure how Waylon will feel about me showing up out of nowhere.” The more she thought about her behavior, the more bizarre her stalking sounded in her mind. Oh, great, she was a stalker.
“He’ll be as happy as a hog in mud.” Howard reached out and let Charlie smell his hand. Two seconds later, the pup licked his fingers. “He’s a cute little guy.”
“Thank you. He was a housewarming gift.”
“Beats a potted plant.” Howard pulled back his hand. “I better get going. Waylon is in the large arena, next set of doors on your right.”
“Thank you, Howard.”
He tipped his hat. “My pleasure. Ya’ll have a good evening.”
Tayla walked on, her boots thumping across the cement. Maybe Waylon would think she’d tried too hard, wearing jeans and cowboy boots. So what if she’d had the outfit rush-delivered to her house? It wasn’t like she didn’t own jeans and boots; in fact, she had over fifty pairs of boots, just not here in Seattle. She sighed, trying to expel the nervous tension in her shoulders. After all, it was a barn and the clothing was appropriate, but Waylon might see right through her and know she’d dressed to impress him, to let him know she was a farm girl at heart. Quit overanalyzing and just find the guy.
She followed Howard’s directions and entered the double doors. The pungent aromas of dirt, sweat, and manure greeted her. Between the fence rails, she watched as Waylon rounded the far corner on a big sorrel horse. Charlie growled, then barked.
“No, Charlie,” Tayla shushed.
Waylon looked up and saw her. She couldn’t read his expression thanks to the distance, but as he came closer, she saw a notch between his brows. His eyes were wide, like he was confused, but maybe not in a bad way. Or maybe that was her wishful thinking.
“What are you doing here?” He stopped the horse. “And with your ferocious guard dog, no less.”
Charlie barked again. The horse pushed his nose between the rails, closer to the dog. Charlie yipped and buried his face in Tayla’s neck. “So much for a guard dog.” She laughed. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” He patted the horse’s neck. “Are you looking for Jamon?”
“No.” She forgot how good a man looked in a cowboy hat. “I’m here for you.” Tayla glanced down at her boots and then backed up. “I tried calling you a few times today, but you didn’t answer.”
“That was you?” He sat back in the saddle and pushed the hat back from his forehead. Dark, damp curls clung to his skin. Her throat tightened. “I didn’t recognize the number and just figured it was a sales call.”
“Nope, that was me.” She rocked back and forth on her heels. “Just your friendly neighborhood stalker.” A nervous giggle erupted, and her face heated.
“Stalker, huh?” He wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. “Can’t say I’ve ever had one of those.”
Tayla gathered herself as an idea sprouted out of nowhere. “Would you be interested in going somewhere with me?”
His chin jutted back. “Like on a date?”
“No, not a date.” She pulled Charlie’s leash from her pocket and attached the clasp to his collar. “I thought maybe we could get to know each other, as friends.” She set Charlie on the ground. “Since Jamon is one of my neighbors and an investor, and you, you’re an—” This was not going well.
“An addict.” He let the reins lie across the horse’s neck and crossed his arms.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I meant you’re Jamon’s brother and we’ll more than likely see each other at Prevail and I don’t really have any friends here yet.” She sounded desperate and needy in her own mind.
“Friends, huh?” Waylon scratched his chin. “I guess I could use one of those too. Where do you want to go?”
“Have you ever heard of a horse sanctuary?” Tayla kept a short leash on Charlie, who was growing braver by the minute, trying to explore his surroundings.
“No.”
“It’s a place for horses who’ve been neglected, abused, or surrendered by the owners. I know a friend of a friend who runs one, and it’s really something to see.” She bit the corner of her lip. “I thought you might like it, since you’ve grown up with horses and obviously love them.” Tayla reached through and stroked the horse’s face. “He’s beautiful, by the way. What’s his name?”
“King,” Waylon said. He patted the horse’s neck again and picked up the reins. “When did you want to go?”
“How about Saturday?”
“Oh.” His smile disappeared. “What time?”
“I’ll make some arrangements and let you know.”
“As long as it’s not too early. I promised some guys from work I’d go fishing with them Saturday morning, but we’ll be up before dawn.”
“Okay. I’ll get back to you.” She scooped up Charlie. “And Waylon?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you answer my call next time?” Tayla tilted her head and gave him a lopsided grin.
“You know you could just text me.”
“Where’s the fun in that? I like talking with people, doing things face-to-face.” An image of last night popped into her mind of her pressing her lips to his. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.” She made a mad dash to the door before Waylon read what was clearly printed across her face in bright red. I kissed you last night and I may want to do it again.
Run, girl, run.
But Tayla wasn’t fast enough. Her attraction to Waylon caught up with her, taking her breath away. She had to stop and lean against a stall. He’d probably cancel their plans, since she’d stalked him today and now ran away like her pants were on fire. Oh, what the man must think of her.
Charlie whimpered in her arms. “Sorry, buddy. We’re leaving.”
Tayla hustled down the aisle of stalls, her mind forming a plan. Saturday had to be perfect, if Waylon didn’t cancel by then. She had to know who the man really was deep inside and where his power over her was coming from. There were several phone calls to make, a few surprises to plan, and when she opened the barn door and saw her new Ferrari parked, bubbles floated in her belly. “Charlie boy, sometimes it’s good to be rich.”
Eight
>
“I don’t know if it’s such a good idea.” Waylon leaned back in the patio chair. He and his brother were on the covered back deck at Jamon’s house, grilling steaks that Friday night. Correction: Jamon grilled and Waylon watched. “I’ve been clean just over three months.”
“It’s just an outing.” Jamon doused the steaks with seasoning.
Waylon cocked a brow. “I know I’m not the most knowledgeable person on the subject, but if you ask me, it sounds more like a date.”
Jamon flipped a T-bone. “Even if it is, it’s just a date. It’s not like she’s proposing.” The corners of his mouth turned up. “And you could do worse.”
“It’s just that I’ve got a routine going, and so far it’s working. I don’t want anything to mess that up. Tayla could be a beautiful disaster waiting to happen.” Waylon’s stomach knotted up even though his mouth watered as the aroma from the grill filled his head.
“Dude, I think you’re way overthinking this.” Jamon added some fresh-cut veggies to the grill plate.
“Overthinking what?” The French doors opened, and Gemma walked out. Her long auburn hair was piled on her head in a bun, and her face beamed when she saw Jamon.
“There’s my girl.” Jamon leaned in as Gemma came up beside him and kissed him on the cheek. “Tayla asked Waylon to visit a horse sanctuary on Saturday with her, and it’s freaked him out.”
Waylon sat up. “I’m not freaked out.” Okay, maybe a little, but it was just because of the way the woman had him seeing stars whenever she was around. “She said it wasn’t a date, but—” His face burned. He didn’t want to share too much information.
“But?” Gemma sat in the chair beside him and touched his knee. Her willingness to forgive Waylon after what he’d done in his darkest moment amazed him. He’d kidnapped her, hoping to ransom money from Jamon for drugs, and she was able to see past all that.
The least he could do was be honest with his soon-to-be sister-in-law. “But there’s something between us. At least, I felt it the first time I saw her, and I think she felt it too.” Waylon winced, waiting for his little brother’s onslaught of teasing to begin. Jamon just laughed.