Chapter 5
I ’m going to murder my baby sister.
After forty-one years, today is finally the day.
Her phone keeps on ringing as I pace up and down the aisle, kicking up dust between the stalls inside the barn. If I didn’t already have gray hairs, this would surely be the moment they’d make their entrance.
“Did you know?” I bark down the line the second it connects.
“Why are you yelling at me?”
“Did. You. Know.” I bite out each word, one hand shoved beneath my cap, gripping my hair by the roots.
“Jesus, just give me a minute…” She whispers something, and then I hear her heels clip against echoing linoleum. “Oscar is out of surgery, by the way. Thanks for asking. Dick .”
Scuffing my heel, I grunt something akin to an apology. “I saw the replay. Lucky that bull went the other way when he hit the dirt.”
“You fucking rough stock riders. I swear to God, I don’t know how I ended up marrying one.”
“What’s the damage?”
“Ribs. Femur. Full shoulder reconstruction.”
He’s going to be out for the rest of the season, that’s for certain, but at least my baby sister didn’t become a widow tonight.
“Are you doing ok?” Letting my fingers rake through my hair, I stare at the scuffed leather on the toes of my boots. My sister is a tough nut, but finding out your husband was almost trampled in the arena is never the phone call you want to receive.
Not that my own so-called wife ever seemed to care any of the times my night ended up at the hospital, rather than returning to my own bed.
“I’ll be fine. Now, can we rewind to the part where you were chewing me out for no apparent reason?”
“The girl.”
“She has a name, you know... Sage.”
“Yeah, her.” I clear my throat. “Did you know it was her when you went ahead with the hire?”
“Did I know it was the cute girl you were chatting to that day and got all weird about immediately after? Yes, I did. But before you go nuclear on me, I hired Sage on her merits. She’s incredibly talented, and we’re lucky to have someone who is not only bright and vibrant and knows her shit, but who just so happens to come highly recommended by your best friend.”
That makes me pause. “Storm knows her?”
“He was the one who put us in touch with each other in the first place.”
Fuck. This is not what I needed. If my closest friend has given this girl a tick of approval, then I’m going to be damn well stuck with her.
“So, you’re going to be nice and welcoming and help her settle in, since I can’t be there to do it myself.”
My heart feels like it’s about ready to bust out the front of my chest with a deafening roar. This sounds exactly like some sort of fresh hell, especially considering my circumstances.
“Do you want me to tell her? I don't mind. It’ll save you needing to explain.”
“No, it's ok.”
“It would probably help a lot if you just let her know right from day one. That way, you won't go beating yourself up when you've been a cute ol’ ball of anxiety but come across more like a snarling bear when you don’t mean to.”
Rubbing the heel of my palm over my sternum—the hand that can still feel exactly how soft Sage’s touch was when I clasped her fingers—doesn’t do shit to ease the tightness forming there.
Tessa might have still been talking, I don’t even know. All I can focus on is the lingering sensation of feeling her skin beneath my own, and a building sense of dread.
“… you said you weren’t interested, right? So, what’s the problem?”
“I dunno, how about the fact that if Mandy gets a single sniff of me being in any sort of proximity to another woman, I’ll be locked into this marriage for even longer, Tessa? I’m so fucking tired—it’s been ten years—I’m so close to being out—” It’s mostly just gasps and unfinished statements coming out of me now as the wave hits me out of nowhere, and the urge to bend double grips my stomach.
“I know, Beau. I know.” Tessa soothes me down the line, the way she has had to do so many times in our adult life. “It’s ok, just take a deep breath for me, ok? Focus on my voice.”
“I can’t keep doing this anymore… you know how toxic… if I get stuck longer…” There’s no completing that sentence, because the thought itself is abhorrent. Right now, my fingers are raw and bleeding from climbing almost all the way out of this hole I’ve been stuck in for far too long, and I can scent fresh air at the surface. However, one slip, one wrong move, I could end up tumbling right back into the darkness.
If I lose my footing, I’d be swallowed back up by the belly of the beast. Possibly never to escape again.
“Beau.” My sister’s voice echoes in my ear. “I need you to listen. Count with me. That’s all you need to do right now. You’re gonna inhale through your nose ‘til we get to four, yeah?”
One. Two. Three. Four. I do it as slowly as possible, sucking the warm evening air into my starving lungs.
“That’s all you have to do.”
Blowing out a stream of air, I readjust my cap.
“I should be talking you down… you’re the one with a husband just out of emergency surgery.” My teeth clench.
“Annnnnnnd, out… two, three, four.” She ignores me and continues to count through the breathing technique she swears by, but I’m still not one hundred percent sold on. Yet, I do it anyway, for her.
“Thanks,” I say, after a few more rounds of counting and trying to ease the cement-like feeling lining my jaw, the boulder sitting on my chest.
“Hang on—stay on the line, Beau—” She covers the mouthpiece with her hand, and in the background, I hear a muffled, rapid-fire conversation with a nurse. “Crap, I gotta go, but you know I’m right here if you need to text me.”
“I’ll be ok. Just… I got jumped by a fan at the airport, and they started questioning me about Mandy… and…”
“You’re gonna be out of it so soon. Beau, you are an outstanding man, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your sister or because you pay me. That woman can go dive into a vat of boiling oil for all I care. You don’t have anything to worry about. You are going to be free of her bullshit before you know it, and you’ve got a gorgeous ranch and future freedom to look forward to.”
Hearing her say it out loud at least leaves my lungs feeling like they can expand a little further on my next sucked-in breath.
“You know…” I hear a sparkle in Tessa’s voice. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did like her. She’s smart, accomplished, not to mention gorgeous. But please be thinking like the boss of a new business, and not a grown man developing a crush. There are things we can write into business contracts, but you’re gonna need to disclose if something happens…”
“Nothing is going to happen. With anyone . I’m still goddamn married.”
I know what that little huffing breath she blows out on the other end of the phone means. Tessa is rolling her eyes silently at me. “Ah, yes, but only for what, another two months? Eight weeks and counting, the last I checked my calendar.”
“Get back to your guy. Give my love to Oscar... and tell him he was far too pretty. It was about time he got scuffed up a little and earned himself a little hoof print on his chest.”
“Oh my god, you have such a fucked up sense of humor. Go cuddle that asshole horse. He’ll probably bite you, and then you really won’t have time to spiral about Mandy or her crap.”
That makes me chuckle, and I look in the direction of his stall. Repetitive munching sounds come from the creature in question. Teddy really is the biggest piece of shit, but he’s grown on me. Even if I’m only stabling him here on behalf of Storm and his girl, Briar.
“Bye, Tessa.”
After the line goes dead, I puff out my cheeks and shove my cap back down roughly. There’s always plenty of shit needing to be done, but since it’s sundown, I set about making sure the one and only horse we’ve currently got here is taken care of for the night.
Walking over, I lean on the door to look in on him. All glossy black coat and ears that whip back and forth with irritation. The prick stamps a hoof even though I’m the guy who brings him breakfast and treats every goddamn day.
He’s a rescue, and ended up here as part of a future equine therapy program we’ll eventually set up. In the meantime, he and I are still coming to terms with each other.
Teddy adores Briar, just like Storm does, but that’s about where his tolerance for people begins and ends. After a shitty life with previous owners who mistreated him, the guy is ready to give everyone hell.
Can’t say I blame him. In fact, most days, I feel like the two of us have more in common than he will ever know.
I suppose I should appreciate this period of quiet, when the barn is almost empty, and we’re yet to start acquiring our stable of horses for the ranch. I suppose I should be grateful that we’re still a few weeks out from the head of cattle I’ve got due to arrive.
Things around here are in the phase of impending explosion into life. Like studying the inky black sky through a viewfinder, ready to capture the exact moment a riot of dawn color appears on the horizon. By the time fall rolls around, we’ll have stock and a barn occupied with horses all needing to be taken care of.
Yet, I can’t enjoy a single moment of that peace right now because my mind is firmly stuck on her.
The girl who I’ve been unable to shake—the beautiful fascination preoccupying the majority of my thoughts—no matter how often I’ve told myself to get over that encounter and move on. I’ve lost track of how many trips to Crimson Ridge I’ve taken, where my attention has been only half on what I was supposed to be doing. When, in fact, I’d been keeping an eye out for a glimpse of glossy midnight hair and smooth brown skin.
How often have I parked up outside that art gallery and waited, just to see if she might reappear?
How many nights have I lain in my lonely bed, fantasizing about the stranger with soulful dark eyes I see whenever I close my own?
A mystery girl who has left me unable to focus on anything but the way her wicked smirk graced the corner of those pretty lips. Not to mention, the memory of her ass in those jeans being the ever-present reason for my dick to get hard.
Christ. Now she’s here? On my ranch?
What my sister doesn’t need to know, is that I’m more than interested in the girl currently making herself at home in cabin number six. She thinks I didn’t, or don’t want anything to do with her, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
I’ve been endlessly fixated on a girl with no name. She has an allure about her which kept me captive ever since a single chance encounter. A flash of a moment between us that lasted all of ten minutes, for fuck’s sake.
As I’m about to head back to the house, a text arrives. I quickly check to see if it’s something from Tessa. But it’s not. Rather than my sister, it’s the source of misery herself. Or, rather to the point, her moron, ass-kisser of an assistant.
Mandy:
Lawyers are going to be in touch. Mandy has an exciting idea to run past you!
- Z *star-eye emoji*
They can both fuck right off. I don’t even bother acknowledging the message. Mandy goddamn Spires has always got ideas. None of which are ever of any benefit to anyone except herself. It’ll be something inane and childish in an effort to try to secure herself some kind of front-page news. The woman thrives on a diet of clickbait for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Another text arrives straight away. The double-edged game those two always like to play, to come at me from all angles.
Zeb:
Hi Beau, if you could make sure to post the following to your Instagram this weekend. I’ve attached a photo and text caption pre-made for you, along with having flowers delivered to M’s tour dressing room on your behalf. Make sure to tag her account in the image so that all her followers can see your post and read about how excited you are for your wife’s next stop on the tour!
God, I want to smash my phone. Polluting my screen is a photo taken of the two of us years ago, in some ridiculous staged performance for the cameras, that was meant to look as if we were vacationing together. When the reality was she flew in for the hour-long shoot, then jetted straight back off to some studio executive’s villa. Whichever one she’d been holed up in at the time, pretending like it wasn’t plainly obvious she was busy fucking her way to the next album deal.
I’m so damn close to being rid of her bullshit. We’ve got a contract in place that guarantees my freedom, and signatures on divorce papers will be happening in all but a matter of months.
There’s nothing I want more than to never have to hear the name Mandy Spires ever again.
All I gotta do is keep my head down, quietly survive the next couple of months, smile for the cameras, and post to social media to appease the terms of our agreement. To avoid the comparisons that will inevitably come if there were any hints that this marriage ended because of me.
Just like his daddy.
To the outside world, I have to portray the image of the faithful husband until the carefully staged and perfectly curated announcement is made.
Then, I’ll be free.
Which means, I absolutely cannot allow myself to even look twice at the gorgeous girl who is going to be here all summer long.