Chapter 13 #2
I was reminded how beautiful this place was, trying to look at it through the lens I’d first viewed it through instead of seeing its dark underbelly—instead of viewing it as the place my sister had disappeared.
The town was so small it didn’t have a single stop light, only a blinking yellow light that cautioned drivers at a particular intersection, where Cassia connected with a perpendicular road that stretched into the distance in either direction.
There was no one behind me, so I grabbed my phone and plugged the address for my new rental into my GPS, on the outskirts of Dusk Valley.
I didn’t mind the distance from town, though. That far out, I hoped to have some mountain views. I might be miserable, but having a stunning view wouldn’t make things worse. Maybe I’d be able to hike around and take some pictures.
My mind wandered as I navigated the unfamiliar area, not settling on anything important, but my attention focused when I came to a break in the long fence running parallel to the dirt road.
The break was a large wooden archway, two tall, thick pine posts with a third stretched across them. Dangling from the cross beam was a sign, marking the entrance to a farm or something.
No, a ranch.
LAWLESS RESCUE & DUDE RANCH
“Oh, Lane,” I muttered. “What have you done?”
Maybe there was a reasonable explanation. Maybe there was another Lawless family in the area.
Not fucking likely.
The GPS directed me to turn past the gates, and a few hundred yards beyond, another dirt track branched off, shaded by trees on both sides, cocooning me beneath a canopy of broad maple leaves and dappled sunlight.
Despite my rising trepidation, I had to admit the effect was magical.
Idaho was the most beautiful place I’d ever visited.
Less than a mile later, I emerged from the tree cover into a clearing—a yard, I supposed.
The dirt road turned to gravel paths that branched off in two directions—one toward a gorgeous, sprawling, dark grey-sided ranch-style home with an attached garage, the plentiful windows framed in a richly-stained wood that matched the entrance and garage doors.
Nearby sat a low-slung building with massive sliding barn-style doors, designed to match the house.
I quickly realized it was a barn, the fenced in paddock giving it away.
I doubted this was the “quaint two-bedroom” the listing the sheriff sent me described, so I decided to continue down the other path. Beyond what I now assumed to be the main house, about a hundred yards away, sat a smaller guest house, a cute miniature of the big house.
My worst fears about who owned this place, about why Lane had been so helpful, about how he’d known so much about this place, were confirmed when my eyes landed on the man waiting on the top step of the little front porch.
He was doing that sexy man lean against one of the posts, his thick, sexy, tattooed arms crossed over his chest as he watched my approach.
There was a small gravel lot out front, and I pulled to a stop, shut the car off, and leaned my head back, eyes closing as I begged the universe for an ounce of patience and peace.
When I opened them again, finally mustering up the courage to face the firing squad, I got out to meet Finn.
God, he was the kind of man wet dreams were made of—and he’d certainly starred in countless of mine over the years. I hadn’t given myself the chance to really look at him when I’d been here a month ago, too wrapped up in everything going wrong to allow myself that luxury.
The years had been kind to him, morphing him from an attractive but polished twenty-something with his buzz cut and muscles who still maintained some of his boyish charm, into this rugged, sinful man. And, goddesses, it made me want to be bad.
I wondered, had the metamorphosis been the Army’s doing? Experience? Was there a woman in his life? I’d never considered the possibility, and I realized now what a horrible oversight that had been on my part.
One that could epically backfire.
Not that I was interested in Finn Lawless.
Not like that.
At least, that was the lie I’d tell myself.
Still, I couldn’t stop myself from picturing how that hard body looked beneath the Carhartt pocket tee and thigh-clinging denim. He’d been strong back then, but now he seemed bigger—and had more tattoos.
Was his ass still tight enough to bounce a quarter off? Could I pour tequila into the ridges of his abdomen and slurp it up like the thirsty bitch I was?
Get it together, Reagan.
Giving myself a little internal shake, I closed the distance between us.
“You didn’t.”
“I did,” he grinned. “It was the only way.”
“Only way to what?”
“Keep you close.”
I hated the way my insides clenched at the promise and sheer alpha male possession in those words, my body waking up and remembering.
We like this one, it seemed to say. He fucked us real good. We should absolutely let him do it again.
Yeah, yeah, my inner voice was a slut—but only for Finn Lawless.
I remembered the sign out front as I drove in.
“The ranch is yours?” I asked.
“My family’s,” he said. “West and I run it now.”
“So you decided to come home once you left the Army after all.”
“You remembered,” he said, that grin growing wider.
I merely nodded.
I’d need a fucking lobotomy to forget.
Every nanosecond of that night seven years ago was etched into my memory, a brand I’d never be able to remove. Not only the sex, but the conversation too.
“I can’t stay here,” I said, turning the conversation back into safer territory.
“Sure you can.”
“You live here.”
He pointed at the big house across the field. “Technically, I live there.”
“Finn…”
“Reagan.”
Goddesses, I loved the way my name rolled off his tongue.
“I’ll go to the motel until I can find something else,” I said, turning away from him.
I’d barely made it a step before his broad palm circled my upper arm.
“Please, Reagan. Stay. I promise, you won’t even have to see me if you don’t want.”
Though my brain screamed at me to tuck tail and run, every cell in my body begged me to stay.
Guess which one won out?
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he repeated, surprised.
“Okay,” I agreed, hooking my thumb over my shoulder. “Help me with my stuff?”
He released my arm. “Lead the way.”