22. Twenty-Two
Twenty-Two
Rhett
“You sure I can’t kill him?” I asked Kyla as we stood next to a pen holding some horses while we waited for the fireworks to start. She wasn’t gone for long, but the five or ten minutes she had been alone with David was enough to start a fire in me. “Or at least punch him?”
“I’d rather you not stoop to his level,” she said softly, reaching over the bar to pat a horse on the nose. “He’s just trying to rile me— us —up. He says he knows this marriage isn’t real.” Her voice was low—hesitant.
“Yeah well,” I grumbled, trying to keep my composure together. “He riled me up for sure. I didn’t think I’d see him here.”
Kyla sighed, keeping her attention on the mare that had come up to her, no doubt looking for an apple. She had been quieter since she told me about her talk with him. I could see the wheels in her head turning, her brain overthinking as anxiety rose. It was the same look she had the night before I left and after we were married. Nerves were settling as she took a deep breath, leaving the horse to adjust the hat on her head, pulling the rim down so I had to tilt my head to see her eyes.
“I saw him,” she admitted, almost as if she didn’t want to. “While we were out this afternoon. I knew he was going to be here.” She lowered her hand and let out a long breath. “I hate that even after all this time, after all the therapy and starting over, he still gets to me.”
I kept quiet, not truly knowing where to place myself in this. I wanted to protect her, offer her things she never had before. In the short time that we had spent together, she was becoming more than I thought she would. I was able to see things differently when she was around. Heat flooded through me with just a single touch and when we kissed . . . the spark was undeniable.
“Kyla.” I reached out and gently took her hand in mine. “I want to . . .”
She turned, her gaze focused on our hands as our fingers laced together. My brain was completely blocked. Frozen at the gate. I heard her breathe, slow at first, but becoming deeper the longer our hands stayed fused together. I tried to will the words to come. To tell her exactly what I wanted for her, for us. But since those words were refusing to come, I told her the opposite.
“I don’t want you to leave. ”
“To end the night.” I heard Wyatt’s voice over the speaker. “Turn your gaze to the east, the fireworks will be starting in just a moment . . .”
But instead of focusing on the east, where everyone had turned, I looked at the beautiful woman in front of me. Her jaw was tight, and her brow pinched. Her eyes—as much as I hated to see it—were wet with tears.
“Stay here, where you’re wanted and where you can let loose and be free. I don’t want you to leave,” I said again, pulling her closer to me still.
She furrowed her brow, a shaky breath coming from her mouth. “I don’t want to leave . . .” she finally muttered.
“Then don’t.”
“Aren’t you leaving on the circuit again?” she protested. “What am I supposed to do when you’re not around? It’s different with you. The moment you left me alone with David, it felt just like it did before—like I was stuck, and he knew he had me. I could tell by the look on his face. He knew it.”
“He doesn’t have you. He never did.”
Kyla tipped her head, scoffing as she glanced towards the east. “Yeah well, he thinks he does. He said he’s not leaving this place without me. With you back on the circuit, I guarantee you he will think he can ‘win me back.’” She air quoted with her fingers. “I don’t want to be alone here while you’re gone. Not while knowing he’s here.”
“Come with me,” I blurted out.
“Come with you? To rodeos? ”
“Yeah, why not? It’s gotta be on that bucket list of yours now, right?”
“Well, I just saw one . . .”
“This one doesn’t count. Wait until you see Cheyenne, or Days of 47. Hell, the Western Stampede. I have a great line-up coming up, and Kyla, I’d love to have my wife there with me.”
My wife.
I loved the sound of that.
I lifted her left hand and kissed right above her ring, bringing a soft smile to her lips.
“No tutoring Stetson. No watching Josie get branded . . .”
“What!?” Her eyes widened.
“No David,” I continued. “Just you and me on the road.”
“Josie is getting branded?”
“Come with me, Kyla.” I placed my hands on her waist, feeling the heat of her body under the yellow sundress.
Just looking in her eyes I could see her calm. The tension in her shoulders released and the breath she was holding left her nose. She closed her eyes as the air left her, and she leaned towards me. Keeping my hands firm on her waist, I could feel the weight of everything lift and she was able to breathe. She gave me a soft laugh before she ran her hands up my chest, settling on my shoulders. I loved the feeling of her weight on me, even if it was for a brief moment.
“Okay.” She smiled. “I’ll go.”
A firework boomed overhead, causing Kyla to jump slightly. Laughing at herself, she rested her body against mine, breathing for the first time since I had left her alone .
“But really,” I said, running my fingers down her spine, “are you sure I can’t at least punch him?”
“No punching.”
Lifting a hand from her waist, I used my thumb and forefinger to bring her gaze back to mine. I ran my thumb on her lower lip. Her heated eyes met mine and the glow from the fireworks lit up her skin. Breathtakingly beautiful, she had managed to stop the panic and anxiety before it even began to settle. She was more confident than she gave herself credit for.
“Kiss me,” she said, her voice heavy. “Mr. Hartwell.”
I smiled, lowering my lips to hers. The sweet taste of her lips against mine, the thrill each kiss brought. This woman . . . Grace was more than right. I was so far gone.
The following morning, I woke before Kyla and Grace, watching as they both staggered out of the bedroom as if they had been drinking the entire night. Granted we got back from the arena later than planned, and Grace had all but disappeared before the fireworks. It took Kyla a few laps around the arena to find her already waiting for us by the truck. Besides asking her if we had seen David, she was just as quiet as Kyla had been, dragging her into the bedroom the moment we walked into the house.
Grace grumbled next to me, reaching for a coffee mug.
“Good morning.” I chuckled .
Pinching her brow, she turned to look at me. “No talking before coffee.”
“Grace.” Kyla yawned, rolling her eyes as she watched her friend pour the coffee into a giant mug. “We need to drink our coffee quickly and then head to the airport. What are you up to today, Cowboy?”
“Well, Mrs. Hartwell.” I smiled at her, leaning up against the counter. “Lachlan and I are moving the livestock back. I’ll be gone most of the day.” I took a drink from my mug, she didn’t need to know what else I had planned for the morning before heading to the arena. “Miss Grace”—I turned to Grace, who still looked like she wanted to murder someone as she gripped her mug with both hands—“it was great to meet you, I’m sure we will see each other again.”
“You know it. I think I convinced her . . .”
“I hope so.” I winked at her, wishing I had more time to stay with them, but one quick glance at the clock told me I was already late. I didn’t even know if David was going to be there, but I had high hopes he didn’t travel far. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Okay, have fun!” Kyla called after me as I placed my hat on my head and headed out the door.
The trailer was already attached to the truck and Wyatt was lazily waiting for me. I double-checked my back pocket for the envelope before patting him on the shoulder. He wasn’t happy we had roped him into helping transport, but he would do his part—even if it was a waste of time for him. However, he didn’t ask questions when I pulled into the only hotel in town instead of going to the arena .
He gave me one quick glance, his eyebrow raised to his hairline, as I parked. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and rested his head against the seat.
“Just don’t do anything stupid, ” he grumbled.
“I’m not,” I answered, turning off the truck.
Wyatt gave me a deep groan. One I quickly ignored as I made my way into the hotel.
I noticed David instantly. He was sitting at a booth in the attached restaurant, with a small cup of coffee and a plate with eggs and toast in front of him. He was looking at his phone, already dressed in a suit and tie. He lifted the mug to take a drink.
It would be a shame if it spilled.
But I promised I wouldn’t do anything stupid.
Pulling the envelope from my pocket I slid in the booth cross from him, taking my hat off and placing it on the table.
“I hope you’re having a decent morning, David.”
Licking his lips, he set the mug back down, reaching for the cloth napkin. “Ah, Rhett, just the person I was hoping to see this morning.”
“Yeah, I’m sure of that. You were going to head over to the ranch, weren’t you?”
“Yes, I was hoping to.” He smiled that same business smile I had seen before.
Don’t punch him.
I hummed. “Well, let’s save the gas, shall we. Let’s get one thing clear. My ranch isn’t for sale. It will never be for sale, and you are going to give up on this little charade of yours. Kyla may not be brave enough to say it, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. ”
“I’m not sure I know what you’re—”
“No, I’m not done talking.” I stopped him, keeping my voice steady and calm. Smooth. I slid the envelope towards me, slowly pulling out my marriage license. “As you can see here, Kyla and I are married. Been married since April. I don’t know where you think she’s been, but I can assure you she’s been right here with me.” I held the license up, making sure he had enough time to really take it in. “So, here’s what’s going to happen.” I put the license down and relaxed in the booth, my arm draping over the green vinyl. He reached forward and grabbed the paper, reading it over once more. “I have to go to the arena to move the livestock, Kyla is at the ranch, and you? You are going to leave. You’re going to check out of the hotel, get in your fancy car and get the hell out of my town. I don’t want to see you again. If you ever come near Kyla, I will call the police, and trust me, they like me a hell of a lot more than they like you.”
Lifting a single brow, David’s gaze met mine. Clearing his throat, he used the folds on the license to neatly hand it back to me.
“I’ve told you, Mr. Hartwell, everything is for sale. I also told you I’m not leaving here without my fiancé. I don’t care what this fake piece of shit paper says. It’s a game she’s playing, and she’s roped you into it.”
I barked out a laugh. “Nice pun.”
That caught him off guard. He blinked before he scoffed out a smile. “It’s all a game, Mr. Hartwell.”
I shook my head. “Kyla’s not playing a game. You are. Kyla is starting to see she deserves more than the bare minimum, and I plan to give that to her. You, David, are the bare minimum. She’s happy, she’s finally feeling free. But trust me”—I took my marriage license and slid it in the envelope, sliding myself out of the booth—“if you don’t take my advice and leave, it’s not going to look good for you. I'm sure Kyla would gladly punch you.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No, just a statement. After all you’ve put her through, I wouldn’t imagine her saying anything less.”
“And what if Kyla isn’t happy? She told me so last night. You must be—”
“If you think I’m going to believe anything that comes out of your mouth you have something else coming. I told her I wouldn’t do anything stupid, so I’m leaving it at that. You have your proof that she’s my wife and I’d greatly appreciate it if you left us alone.”
I picked up my hat and placed it on my head, seeing a single slice of bacon left on his plate. I reached down and grabbed it, popping it in my mouth.
“Have a great day and a semi-safe drive home.” I tipped my hat, chewed the bacon, and turned my back to leave.