Chapter Twenty-Nine
Riley would have been embarrassed had it not, as always with this man, been so incredible.
She’d be picking dead plant life out of her hair and other interesting places later, but right now, lying here half-dressed and utterly sated in Miles’s arms, there was room for nothing but an exhausted bliss.
And what better place than this, where she’d spent so many hours contemplating her life, and telling herself what she had was enough, she should be able to quash that longing for more?
She hadn’t dared admit, even to herself, that this was what she’d been longing for. This kind of connection. Not just the physical, amazing as it was, but the man who made her feel this way. Made her want it, made her willing to take the risk of opening herself up in all ways.
“Guess we showed those eagles a thing or two,” Miles said.
She laughed, and not for the first time acknowledged that she had laughed more, and more joyously, since he had come into her life than…ever.
They sat up, tidying the clothes, with her noticing the top button was missing on her shirt.
She fingered the loose thread, her first thought finding it, the second about sewing it back on, but the third was the delicious idea of leaving it as it was.
It made the shirt gape lower than she ever would have worn it, before.
“If I find that button, I’m throwing it away,” Miles said, that luscious, low rumble in his voice.
She didn’t know how he did that, so often guessed what she was thinking, but it was part of him, part of them, and how right they felt together.
They sat quietly for a while, leaning back against the rock bench where she’d spent so much of her life contemplating that life. Contemplating what she wanted, what she had, what she would never have.
And up until not so long ago, what she was feeling now, with Miles, would have been on that never have list. That she never, ever would have expected to find it with a man like him, from the world he was from, didn’t matter anymore.
She smiled inwardly. She was going to have to talk to Nic, find out how she reconciled things.
After all, she’d had to deal with the up-front fame of falling for the star.
Miles at least was behind the scenes. There was the little detail of him living in L.A.
, but for the first time she thought maybe, just maybe, they could work something out.
The part of her that Derek had kicked around tried to rise up, to tell her yes, he’d be with her when he was here, but when he went back home, to the land populated with beautiful wannabes who would love nothing more than to come to his attention—
“Riley? I need to ask you something.”
She was glad he’d yanked her out of that morass. “Hmm?”
“I have a proposal for you.”
She went very still. It was a moment before she trusted herself to look at him. “A…proposal?”
He blinked, and to her surprise his ears turned a little pink. Was that his version of…blushing? “I didn’t mean…that.” He lowered his gaze. “At least, not yet.”
Not yet? So he might mean it, sometime? Before she could react, and no doubt say something stupid, he hurried on.
“I just meant…you know how that painting inspired Stonewall? And that I always wished we could have filmed it for real, in the place in that painting? As in, right here?”
Her brow furrowed. “Yes.”
“So I had this idea.” He took in a deep breath, then said, “I’d like to restart Stonewall. And do it right. Where it should be. Here.”
It took her a moment to understand what he was getting at. “You want to start the show back up. And film it…here?”
He nodded, looking eager. “Where it should have been all along. I know it’ll be a big change, but I swear we’ll try and keep out of your way.”
Riley felt a chill shiver down her spine as she listened. “And just how long,” she asked carefully, “have you been thinking about this?”
“Ever since I bought that painting I’ve wanted to film in the real place,” he said.
And he still sounded enthused, like a man closing in on a long-sought goal.
“Although I didn’t know exactly where it was until I got here.
It’ll be tough, finding other people willing to invest in a reboot, that’s always risky.
But I’m good at what I do. And it’ll pay off, in the end. ”
Other people… Besides her? She couldn’t think of another way to interpret that right now.
The thought vanished, swept away by a bitter, harsh memory.
I’m good at my work, Riley. You won’t lose on this investment, I swear you won’t. And you’ll love life in Dallas. It’s so much better than out here in the boonies. In the end, you’ll be glad.
Derek’s long-ago words echoed in the near-frozen space that her head had become. The chill lingered, almost numbing her. This was Derek all over again. Just in a fancier, more appealing package.
In the end. In the end, you’ll be glad. It’ll pay off, in the end.
Riley scrambled to her feet, staring down at him in pained disbelief. So this was what he really wanted, what he’d been after all along. How could she have been so stupid, to think a man like this, who moved in the world he moved in, would ever really want a simple cowgirl? Even a well-off one.
It seemed clear now, and apparently he’d gone after the goal in the same way many in his business did.
Since she didn’t need the money, that left only one thing.
He knew he couldn’t just buy her, so he’d…
seduced her instead? Gotten her to fall for him so hard she couldn’t possibly say no to whatever he wanted?
An overwhelming sense of nausea and anger welled up inside her. Anger at him, yes, but even more at herself. She should have known.
Did he think she was so head over heels she’d blindly say yes to whatever he wanted? Okay, so she’d been close. She’d truly had herself convinced this was real. That she’d finally found what had eluded her for so long. That he was nothing like Derek.
And all along it was as phony as a Hollywood movie. And he was exactly like Derek.
“Get. Off. My. Ranch.” She ground the words out through clenched teeth. “And don’t come back.”
He was gaping at her, looking utterly bewildered. “Riley, what’s wrong?”
“That you have to ask says everything, Mister Flint.”
She turned on the heel of her boot and headed down from the overlook at a run.
She never stopped when she reached where King was ground-tied, his head coming up as he heard her noisy approach.
She skipped the stirrups, grabbed the saddle horn and used momentum to swing right up into the saddle in a single motion.
She reached for the reins and pulled them up over the horse’s head, then wheeled him around and put her heels to his sides with more oomph than usual.
King got the message and leapt forward, hitting full speed in a half-dozen strides.
She never looked back.
She was glad her father wasn’t in the house when she got there. She tied King off at the front porch and ran inside. In a matter of moments she had every single item of his that had found its way here crammed into that duffel bag, and she didn’t much care if she broke the toothbrush in the process.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The only thing she could see was the neckline of her shirt, more open than it should be, thanks to that missing button.
That thing was going in the trash. She never wanted to even see it again, let alone wear it.
She was as angry with herself as she was with him. With herself because she had fallen for it. She had truly believed him. Had believed she’d been seeing the real him, when it was apparently all the kind of facade his world produced. He was a producer, after all, she thought bitterly.
She felt a bit of a qualm when she thought of Nic, and Jackson, and even Jeremy, who had all made clear what a good guy Miles Flint was.
But they didn’t fall in love with him like you did.
Ironic that this was the first time she’d ever actually put it into words, even in her mind.
Now, when it was over, when she’d been bludgeoned by a truth she’d never expected.
But it was so blatantly obvious just how wrong she’d been.
She should have known. She was never destined to have the kind of happiness she’d felt in the last three weeks. Not permanently.
She’d planned on dumping his bag on the porch and then locking the door. Thank goodness they hadn’t progressed to her giving him a key, but then they so rarely had to lock the door it wasn’t necessary. But now, no sooner had she stepped outside with the duffel than he rode up on Sam.
She dropped the bag. She wanted more than anything to scurry back inside, but she made herself stay. She might be stupid, she might be gullible, she might have fallen for a fantasy, but she would not be a coward.
He slid off the docile bay and came up the steps. He looked utterly confused. As if he didn’t at all understand what had just happened.
“Riley—”
“Take your bag and go.”
“But—”
“Now.”
“Riley, what just happened? What made you—”
“What made me see reality?” she snapped.
“I don’t…” He stopped, giving a slow shake of his head. He truly looked bewildered.
Could he really have no idea? Was he so blind to reality outside his world, the world where his…
proposal would have no doubt been greeted with glee no matter the personal cost?
Had he assumed she would be delighted, just as Derek had once assumed she would have been delighted to leave the ranch for the city?
“Riley, please—”
“You want to know what’s wrong, Mr. Flint? I’ll tell you. I’m sick and tired of men who make assumptions without ever asking the damned questions!”
She turned on her heel and walked back inside, slamming the door and locking it. That was as far as she got before her knees gave out, and with her back against the door she slid down to the floor.
It struck her then that in a way she’d done the same thing.
She’d assumed. She’d trusted. She’d been blind.
Apparently Derek had taught her nothing.
But that was her own problem, and one she’d have to deal with.
Learn to live with, warily. That she hadn’t learned it well enough back then was just another stab in the gut for her. She was too old to be that stupid.
Stop it! I do not give a damn how old you are. It doesn’t matter.
His words, in that voice that sent heat rippling through her, rang in her head. And she was glad all over again that her father wasn’t in the house, because she didn’t want him to see her crying.