Chapter 9 Isaac
CHAPTER NINE
isaac
The side-by-side bounces us roughly as we roll over the gravel trail that winds along the edge of the river and leads to the guest cabin. Elena is quiet beside me. Arms folded, jaw tight. Not looking at me.
Which is a damn shame, considering I haven’t been able to stop looking at her. The woman who wrecked me and vanished before sunrise.
And now she’s here.
On my family’s ranch. Where I just handed over a signed contract saying I wouldn’t touch her.
I kill the engine in front of the cabin. The guest cabin is closer to Wyatt’s house than mine, probably safer since it would be tough for me to sneak over here without my brother or his wife noticing.
Because if I’m being honest with myself? I’d be sneaking my ass over here every chance I got if I didn’t think we’d get caught.
“Here it is. The infamous Lazy Bear cabin,” I joke as I climb out of the vehicle.
She doesn’t move.
“Elena? You okay?”
As if I’ve switched her back on, she shoots out of the side-by-side like a rocket then turns to me with conflicting emotions swirling in her eyes.
Is that fear? Regret? Fuck.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she snaps, voice shaking. “Am I okay? No, I sure as hell am not okay.”
My brows draw together. “I can see that. Want to talk about it?”
“Talk about it?” She’s pacing in front of the cabin like she’s about to come apart at the seams. “You’re serious?”
I move toward her cautiously. “Is that a yes or—”
She whirls on me, eyes blazing. “Of course. Of-fucking-course this is happening right now.” Her eyes fill with moisture, and she shakes her head. “The most perfect part in the history of parts is finally mine, and I fuck it up before it even starts.”
“Maybe take a breath, spitfire.”
Her face goes pale. Then red. Then pale again. “Do not call me that. Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“Elena.” I say her name softly this time, careful now. “Breathe. Please.”
“You—me—we—” She gestures wildly between us. “We already slept together. After we signed contracts saying we wouldn’t.”
So this is what this feels like. If any woman ever regretted sleeping with me, I wasn’t around afterward to witness the remorse. This one is regretting her every life decision before my eyes.
I rub a hand across the back of my neck, the heat of her panic crawling under my skin. “Technically, I signed that contract after—”
“Don’t.” She cuts me off, pacing again. “Don’t try to cowboy charm your way out of this. This is bad. This is like, fired-on-day-one bad. Just-blew-my-shot-at-the-biggest-role-in-my-career bad.”
“Okay,” I say carefully, “you need to calm down before you talk yourself into a panic attack.”
She rounds on me again. “Do not tell me to calm down. Ever.”
I hold up both hands. “Just a little concerned that you’re spiraling.”
“Of course I’m spiraling,” she hisses. “I had sex with the fucking worst possible person, on a show with a no-fraternization clause!”
I watch her pace again, eyes burning, hair falling in her face as she brushes it away roughly like she’s seconds away from combusting.
The words “raving lunatic” come to mind.
But God help me, I still want her.
Badly.
“I don’t know if I’m the worst possible person you could’ve hooked up with. I mean, Wyatt’s married to the show’s writer so—”
“Let me guess,” she bites out with venom in her voice. “You’re the funny one. Never takes anything seriously. Not even yourself. Everything is one big joke to you. Great. That’s just great. I’m glad you can laugh at us ruining my career and subsequently, my life. Love that for you.”
Ouch. Who doesn’t love a little comic relief now and then? This woman apparently.
“Elena.” I step into her path, blocking her. “Look at me.”
Her chest is heaving from her freak out.
She glares. But she holds my stare. Then her pupils dilate the same way they did when I buried my aching cock into her tight wet heat last night. My blood drains south and I nearly lose focus.
“I’m not laughing,” I say evenly. “And no one is taking this role or anything else away from you as long as I’m breathing. Understand?”
Her expression flickers. “But the contract said—”
“No one except for you and me knows what happened between us last night. And no one is going to know.” I touch her chin gently. “I promise. And I don’t go around making empty promises.”
“What about the pretty bartender? She knew you and she saw us and—”
“Brooklyn Harris has plenty on her plate and enough drama of her own. She isn’t going to tell anyone our business.
And neither is anyone else who saw us last night.
This is a small town, and yeah, people are nosy as fuck, but I will handle anyone who so much as thinks about saying they saw us leave the bar together. ”
Her breathing slows, my words doing what I hoped they would—soothing her fears and easing her anxiety.
“So we just pretend nothing happened? Act like we met for the first time five minutes ago?” A frown mars her beautiful face.
I nod. “We don’t have any other choice. We keep our secret, and we get through this training camp. I won’t treat you any differently than any of the other actors.” Even if I do know how you taste and that you mewl like an animal in heat when you come.
She tugs at her lush lower lip with her teeth. “Okay. I’m an actress, for goodness sakes. I can do this. Right? I can act like I haven’t seen your dick up close.” She takes several deep breaths.
“Yeah. That is not helping.” I adjust myself and her gaze drops to my crotch. Those fucking eyes of hers darken and I think about saying to hell with it, picking her up and carrying her inside the cabin for a repeat of last night.
The minute I realized she was gone this morning, my mind began compiling a list of all the things I wished I’d done to her willing body.
I needed more time. I’m damn sure out of time now. As if to drive the reminder home, Colter and Marcos ride up in the old ranch truck Wyatt finally got running again.
“Hey, boss,” they greet me, their eyes widening at the sight of Elena.
She and I both take a step backward as they approach. I block their view of her with my body.
“Fellas. You brought the lady’s bags down, yeah?” I make eye contact to knock them out of their entranced stupor. “Guys. Bags. Now.”
Colter nods quickly then grabs a large suitcase and the black bag I saw Elena get items from in the hotel bathroom last night. He carries them to the porch and sets them down in front of me.
I frown. “This took two of you?”
“Um,” Marcos glances at Colter. “When they said an actress needed help with her bags, we’d assumed there would be a lot more.”
He glances around me.
Yeah, and you assholes wanted to get a good look at my girl.
The thought comes out of nowhere. She’s not my girl. Not anyone’s girl. Just the off-limits actress none of us were supposed to touch but I already did.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Elena says, stepping out from behind me.
Both hardened ranch hands blush like pubescent schoolboys. “Yes, ma’am. Anytime.”
Marcos is young and Elena would eat him alive, but Colter makes me nervous. He’s a good-looking kid. If she so much as blinks at him with interest, he’d risk his job and his life without thinking twice.
“They aren’t gentlemen,” I bite out.
Colter side-eyes me. That one’s smarter than he looks, too.
Elena pinches my side. Hard.
I turn to give her a what-the-fuck look, but she only smiles sweetly up at me.
“Be nice, cowboy.” She turns her attention to the hands. “I appreciate the help,” she says, pulling her wallet out of her purse. “Hang on, I have cash for a tip.”
“Not necessary,” I tell her. “This is a ranch, not a five-star resort. These guys don’t accept tips for doing what they’re told. And they’re both in a hurry to get back to work.”
Colter arches a brow at me. I stare pointedly.
“Are you boys struggling with your hearing today? I’m pretty sure I said ‘get back to work.’”
They grin at each other, then tear off in the truck, leaving me to deal with an amused looking actress on the porch.
“What?”
She shrugs. “Oh nothing. Except you said no one would know what happened between us, then you did everything except piss a circle around me just now.”
She’s not wrong.
I try to make light of my out of character behavior. “If that’s something you’re into, we can definitely discuss it.”
“How about we agree never to discuss any of it ever again? I’m an actress,” she reminds me once more. Or maybe she’s reminding herself. “I’m good at pretending. I do it for a living. So how about we pretend last night never happened?”
I nod then tip my hat. “Sure thing, darlin.’ What did you say your name was again? Irene? Elaine?”
She scrunches her beautiful face at me. “Cute. Now cool it, cowboy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The smell of leather and hay hits me the second I step into the stables after helping Elena settle into the cabin.
Even the scent of horse manure grounds me in a way only this place ever has.
The sounds serenade me. Horses shifting in their stalls.
The creak of halters. A soft snort from the newest gray gelding as I pass.
And then there’s Wyatt—leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, jaw tight.
Shit.
This isn’t casual Wyatt. This is big-brother-we-need-to-talk Wyatt.
I pause a few feet away, sighing. “You waiting here to jump me, or are you just basking in the smell of horse shit?”
He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t move.
Just stares me down.
“Ivy’s worried.”
I nod slowly. “About?”
“How did dropping Elena off at the cabin go? Because it seems like it took”—he pauses to check his watch—“about twenty minutes longer than it should have. Tell me you didn’t do anything inappropriate.”
I force a grin. “Brother, nothing inappropriate I do with a woman takes less than an hour. Ever. Ivy can rest easy. It went fine.”