She giggled. "How can you make me laugh about that? I've held tight to that night as my reason for tears for a decade."
"Because when the tears stop serving a purpose, it's time to let them stop." He held up his arms and flexed his biceps. "How about this?"
"Shit." She grabbed her brush. "Are you kidding me with that? How can I possibly not paint you?"
He grinned. "You can't resist me, my darling. Concede defeat now."
"I can resist you." She pulled out her paints and started mixing a tone for his skin. "In fact, I had a lovely midnight kayak trip with Brody and Keegan—"
"What?" He lowered his arms. "I distinctly recall inviting you for a river trip on Monday. With me. Not them. How the fuck did they get you out there first?"
"Arms up." She pointed the paintbrush at him. "I want to see those muscles."
He left his arms down, and she could feel that his energy was suddenly off balance. "What happened on the kayak ride?"
"I'm not telling you until you pose for me."
With a scowl, he raised his arms again, and she couldn't help but giggle at his irritated expression. Not that she wanted him to suffer, but the fact he was clearly a little upset that she was out with two handsome guys made her feel good. "Did you know Brody is a romantic?"
His arms came down again. "Did he hit on you?"
She set her hands on her hips. "I swear to God, Ryder. This is the first time I've been excited about painting in ten years. Are you going to let me paint or not?"
He glared at her, but raised his arms again. "Did he hit on you? Did Keegan?"
She couldn’t believe how good his annoyance felt. He was actually jealous. "Do you know that after you dumped my vulnerable teenage heart after my prom, I actually believed it was because you didn't care about me?" She began to outline his right biceps, because honestly, she couldn’t look anywhere else. "I convinced myself you didn't care about me at all. How ridiculous is that?"
"It may surprise you to know that I'm aware you just tried to change the topic from what happened with Brody and Keegan on the river." His biceps flexed, and she almost felt like whimpering. "You already know I love you, so I'm thinking this is just distraction tactics."
She grinned. "God, you're cute when you're jealous."
"Jealous?" He frowned, then sighed. "Yeah, I guess I am." His blue gaze bore into hers. "What the fuck happened out there, Zoey?"
She hummed under her breath as she painted. Ryder was jealous. She loved that so much. "They told me that there was magic between you and me, and that it was a special gift we need to fight for."
His eyebrows shot up. "Really?"
"Yep. And then Keegan offered to have me out to Oregon and stay on their ranch until I figured out my next steps."
He went still. "Are you going?"
She bit her lip. She'd actually decided that she would go. Oregon was beautiful, and it would be a chance to be away from all the influences of her past, to find herself. But with Ryder in front of her, tempting her, making her laugh, the thought of Oregon didn't sound quite as appealing. "I don't know," she finally said.
He let out a breath. "Don't go."
Her gaze snapped to his. "What?"
He lowered his arms. "Don't go. Stay with me."
She bit her lip. "Ryder, I have literally no foundation to stand on right now. How can I possibly be in a relationship if I can't stand alone?"
"How can you possibly walk away from the man you love? The one that got away ten years ago?"
She closed her eyes against the need to throw the paint brush down and fling herself into his arms. "Shut up." She took a deep breath and dipped her brush in the paint again. "Arms up."
He didn't move. "What do you really need, Zoey? What are you really looking for?"
She glanced up at him and met his gaze. You. The word jumped into her head, but she didn't say it aloud. Because there had to be more to her than being the woman who loved Ryder, right? Didn't there have to be more? "Me."
"You're looking for you?"
She nodded slowly. "Yes. I think I am." And him. She couldn't lie about that. She wanted him so desperately, so desperately in fact, that it terrified her. It terrified her because until she found herself, she'd never feel safe enough to trust again, not the way he deserved.
He nodded. "I get that."
"You do?" She narrowed her eyes. "Does that mean you'll support me going to Oregon?"
He didn't answer her question directly. "It means I'll sit here in this pose for as long as it takes you to paint me, my dear artiste." He met her gaze. "Find your art, Zoey."
She relaxed slightly, relieved that he wasn't actually telling her to go. As much as she wanted her freedom, she didn't want him to ever tell her to leave him again, no matter how much it would benefit her. Everyone she'd loved had ditched her, and she desperately needed Ryder to refuse to be pushed away, no matter how hard she tried. She might decide to leave anyway, but she needed Ryder to fight like hell to keep her. She wasn't sure that made sense, but it was her truth. "Arms up, then, Ryder."
He did as she directed, settling more comfortably on the arm of the couch, clearly committing to staying there for as long as it took. "Take all the time you need, ZoeyBear."
She smiled, relaxing. "It'll take a while."
He met her gaze. "I can wait."
* * *
Ryder was mesmerized by the expressions on Zoey's face as she lost herself in her painting. He knew the moment she'd forgotten he was there, the moment she'd pulled him into her world, allowing him to become a part of her art, instead of an outsider.
Being the subject of her painting was an incredible experience. The way her gaze traveled over every inch of him, seeing him so deeply that he felt as if she was stripping him bare. The way she'd focused on his jaw, her brow furrowed as she studied the shadows along his whiskers. She'd worked in silence for the first hour, and then she'd started humming to herself.
The humming was magic to him. The humming was what he remembered from years ago. Her voice was beautiful, filled with light and love and freedom. Her breath mingled with the notes, enriching them. He'd watched her paint in the past, but never had he been a part of the process before.
He felt as though he'd been given a gift, this moment of participation in her world. The deep sense of peace emanating from her seemed to envelop him in a cloak of protection, sealing them both off from the outside world, leaving them floating peacefully in an alternate realm where colors were life, and shapes were the soul.
He saw her look right into his eyes, without even seeing him watching her. She frowned, and looked at the blue paint on her brush, and he knew she was trying to find the right shade for his eyes.
Zoey was seeing blue the way he'd never see the color blue. She was seeing shadows and light in a way he'd never known. She was experiencing texture on a level he never would.
And yet, being her subject, he could share it with her on the deepest level.
He could tell she was completely aligned with herself, maybe for the first time in a very long time.
And he was the one who'd given it back to her.
Yeah, he was a keeper…for her, at least. And no one else mattered.
He watched her rub her wrist over her forehead, leaving behind a blue streak that matched his eyes. Let her go to Oregon? No chance.
I'm not letting you walk away this time, Zoey.
I promise.
Chapter Twenty-Five
She was finished.
Zoey finally sat back, gazing at the painting that had flowed out of her with such magic. She'd painted Ryder leaning against a wooden fence, the kind that had surrounded Ol' Skip's ranch when they were kids. He was shirtless, his plaid shirt draped over the top rail. His jeans were low on his hips, revealing the beautiful shadows of his lean, hard stomach. His jaw was perfect, and his eyes… God. His eyes…
She leaned forward, studying her painting more carefully. His eyes were so full of depth. Pain. Love. Pas
sion. Humor. They were truly alive, and they made her heart turn over just looking at them. So many hours of her life had been spent gazing into those eyes.
"Finished?" Ryder's voice was gentle, lightly brushing over her to draw her attention back to the room.
She looked up at him, and her heart leapt when she saw those same blue eyes gazing at her so intently…full of all the same emotions she'd painted into them. "I love it so much," she said. "I love what I painted."
He smiled. "Can I look at it?"
She nodded.
Ryder stood up slowly, stretching with a small groan, making her glance at the clock. "It's almost four in the morning?" He'd been sitting there for almost seven hours?
"I loved watching you." He rotated his shoulders as he walked up next to her. He rested his hand on her shoulder as he leaned in to look at the painting.
For a long moment, he said nothing, and the longer it took for him to say anything, the more nervous she became. She'd thought it was amazing, but maybe it wasn't.
Then he looked at her, and the look of absolute awe on his face made her heart swell with pride. "Really?" she asked. "You like it that much?"
"It's incredible." He crouched beside her, resting his forearm on her thigh as he studied it. "It's truly breathtaking. The mountains. The details on the grasses. And my eyes…" He swore under his breath. "You made me come alive, Zoey. I've never seen anything like it."
She smiled with more than a little bit of pride. "Thanks."
He raised his brows. "Have you been taking classes since I saw you last?"
"Since earlier today? No."
He laughed. "Always my sassy girl. I love that so much about you." He stood up and slid his hands through her hair, sending chills down her spine. "I meant since you left here ten years ago."
"I took a few classes in college, before I focused on pre-law stuff." God, his hands felt so good. So gentle, yet strong at the same time.
"I saw the way your soul came to life when you were painting." He smiled. "The painting shows it, and so did your face. This is where you belong, Zoey. This is your magic. Can't you feel it?"
She smiled. "I did feel it. It was amazing." She wrapped her hand around his wrist. "Thank you for giving it back to me. I needed you to be a part of it in order for it to come back to me."
"See how much I add to your life?" He grinned. "Baby, you need me. I need you. We're good for each other." Then, before she could decide whether to summon a protest, he kissed her.
The kiss was so tender, so beautiful, so intimate that her heart seemed to sigh with contentment. She closed her eyes, basking in the feel of his hands in her hair, in the heat of his body as he moved closer, in the taste of his kiss.
She surrendered to him, clasping her hands behind his neck, allowing herself to let down her guards this one time, just for a moment, just to let herself feel how amazing it was to turn herself over to him.
He kissed his way down the side of her neck, and she sighed in pure heaven at the feel of his kisses dancing across her chest, and then over the swell of her breasts—
Her phone suddenly rang, startling her.
"Ignore it," Ryder said between kisses.
She had no idea who it could be. "It's four in the morning. Anyone who calls me at this hour needs something." She slid out of his grasp and grabbed her phone off the table. It was a blocked number, which she didn't usually answer, but this time, for some reason, she felt like she needed to.
Ryder came in behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, nuzzling the back of her neck. She smiled and wrapped her hand around his strong forearm as she leaned back into him. "Hello?"
"Hello. This is Mountain View Regional Hospital. Is this Zoey Wilson?"
Ryder tensed against her, and her breath caught. "Yes. What's happened?"
"Do you know a Frank and Liam Eaton?"
For a split second, Zoey couldn’t place the name, and then she remembered the grandfather and grandson that had been at the Wildflower Café, the lovely duo who she'd given the free lunch to. She remembered the way little Liam had so proudly given feedback on the grilled cheese sandwich, and Frank's quiet but genuine appreciation that she'd given them a way to maintain their pride while accepting the food. "Yes, why?"
"They were in a car accident tonight—"
She didn't hear the rest. Panic knifed through her, and her legs suddenly seemed to give out on her. She was back in that moment with her parents, when the hospital had called. She couldn’t breathe—
"ZoeyBear." Ryder's arms were strong around her, his voice low and reassuring. "It's okay. I've got you. Breathe, baby, breathe."
She gripped his arms in raw panic, leaning back into the strength of his body as she fought for breath.
"Hi." Ryder took the phone from her and put it on speaker. "This is Ryder Stockton, Zoey's partner. Are Frank and Liam okay?"
Zoey closed her eyes as the woman from the hospital answered. "Frank has been admitted with moderate injuries, but Liam will be released tonight. He will need someone to take care of him tonight. Frank listed Zoey as their emergency contact. Are you able to come to the hospital now to take Liam home?"
Zoey grabbed the phone from Ryder. "They're okay? They're not dead?"
"Dead? No. But the boy needs to be picked up tonight, or we will have to put him into a temporary foster home."
Dear God. A foster home? No. Zoey's hands started to shake at the thought of Liam left all alone in the hospital. He'd already lost his parents, and now his grandfather was injured? How badly? Please let Frank be okay.
Liam would be terrified right now. Alone. No one to take him home. No safe place to sleep. She knew what that felt like. She'd been the one in that white hospital room, terrified, waiting for someone to tell her it was going to be okay, which of course, no one had been able to do, because it wasn't ever going to be okay.
And now Liam was in that situation? She didn't even care how or why Frank had given them her name and number. All that mattered was getting there and making sure Liam knew he was safe, and Frank was getting the care he needed.
"Are you able to come pick him up?" the woman asked again.
"Yes! Yes, of course. We're on our way." She looked at Ryder, who was already grabbing his car keys and wallet. "How long will it take to get there?"
"Twenty-five minutes max," he said.
"We'll be there within a half-hour," she said as she grabbed her purse. "Don't send Liam to a foster home. We're coming."
"Excellent. Check into the main desk when you arrive, and they will direct you."
"Okay, great. We'll be there soon." She shoved the phone into her pocket and ran for the door that Ryder was holding open for her. She sprinted through it, and the two of them raced for his truck.
It was just like that night so many years ago, and as soon as she was in the truck, she started to panic. "How fast can you drive?"
Ryder didn't put the key into the ignition. Instead, he turned to face her. "Zoey. Look at me."
"Drive! Oh my God! Why aren't you driving? I'll drive. Do you need me to drive?" She lunged for her door handle, but Ryder caught her arm.
"Zoey. Look at me." His voice was urgent and commanding, dragging her out of her panic just enough for her to hear him.
She spun toward him, her heart pounding. "What is it? We need to drive."
He took her hand, sandwiching it between his two larger ones. "This isn't your parents. Say it. Say it out loud."
She stared at him, her heart pounding. "What?"
"I'm not driving until you say it. This isn't your parents. Say it."
She blinked. "This isn't my parents," she repeated quickly. "Can we go?"
He shook his head. "Say it again."
"This isn't my parents," she said louder. Suddenly, her lungs seemed to release, and she sucked in a huge breath. "It's not my parents," she whispered, tears suddenly filling her eyes.
"That's right." He brushed her hair back from her face. "Frank has moderate
injuries. Liam is being released tonight. They're not going to die from this, okay? We're going to go help them, and it's going to be okay. Got it?"
She stared at him, searching his blue eyes. "You think so? That it's going to be okay?"
"Yes." He smiled. "You don't have to handle this alone, ZoeyBear. I won't leave your side. We're going to take care of both of them. Together. Okay?"
"Okay." She nodded and took another deep breath. "We got this. Together. Right?"
"Right." He kissed her gently, then sat back. "Now, let's go. Ready?"
She put on her seatbelt. "Ready."
As Ryder started the truck and pulled out, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat, trying to calm down. She had to pull herself together so she could be there for Liam and Frank, especially little Liam. This wasn't about her past. Not about her parents. This was about Liam and Frank, who, according to Lissa, had no one else to help them. In fact, they were so alone that Frank had given the name of a woman they'd met only one time as their emergency contact.
Tears filled her eyes. She'd felt so alone for so long, and yet she'd had people to turn to all along, even if she hadn't wanted to. If she'd had an emergency, she had a long list of people she could have called at any time. Dane. Ryder. Any of the Stocktons. And now she knew she could add Jaimi, Lissa, and all of the Stockton wives she'd met to her list. And even Brody and Keegan Hart. She barely knew them, and they'd already shown that they were there for her. So many people to ask for help if she needed it.
But Frank and Liam actually were alone. Truly alone. No one to ask for help except a stranger.
It made her realize that despite years of feeling alone, rejected, and isolated, she wasn't alone, not by any stretch. And she never had been. All she'd needed to do was look around, and she would have realized it.
She opened her eyes and looked at Ryder, his jaw flexed as he drove. "Ryder?"
He glanced over at her. "Yeah?"
"Thank you. For everything."
He flashed a grin at her. "I love you, babe. I'll do anything for you, and you never need to thank me. It comes with the territory." He raised his brows. "You'd be there for me the same way, right?"
A Real Cowboy Always Trusts His Heart: A Wyoming Rebels Novel Page 17