Chapter 39 #2
By the time I finally reach the fence lining the pasture, my legs are numb from the cold and the anxiety that’s making my whole body tremble.
This is what I get for wearing shorts in mid-September at seven thousand feet.
There’s no Derek in sight, so I keep walking along the fenceline, mentally kicking myself for not asking Pops where Derek is staying.
My guess is he’s in one of the private cabins, but it’s not like I can go knocking on every door at eight in the morning, wondering if anyone has seen a mega hot celebrity wandering around lately.
Huh. I wonder if people even know he’s here.
Based on his pictures, he hasn’t spent all his time indoors and out of sight, but neither does it seem like anyone has mentioned Derek’s location on the internet.
At least, Hot Scoop hasn’t figured it out, and if anyone would dig deep enough to find an obscure hint about where Derek has been hiding out, Brenda would.
Movement in the distance catches my eye, and I turn to see which horse is coming to greet me.
My jaw drops.
That’s not a horse.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whisper as Derek Riley in all his glory strides toward me through the sun-kissed mist in the best Mr. Darcy impersonation I’ve ever seen.
That scene has always stuck with me, ever since I first saw the movie as a teen.
And while Derek isn’t wearing a full-length coat or breaches, he is wearing flannel. Flannel.
His hair is longer, his beard is fuller, and the unbuttoned blue flannel shirt over a white t-shirt and jeans might be the sexiest piece of clothing in existence. He was pretty to begin with. Now he’s just playing dirty.
He keeps his eyes on me as he crosses the field, his expression inscrutable and intense, and I could swear a sweeping romantic soundtrack plays overhead as he walks.
If anyone would have real-life background music, Derek Riley would.
When he reaches the fence between us, he doesn’t slow down, instead planting a hand on the top rail and swinging his legs over with ease.
A sound escapes my throat, a pathetic mix of a whimper and a laugh. At this point, it’s a miracle I’m still standing upright, and all I can do is gape at the man and hope I’m not drooling.
But then he stops a few feet from me, letting his eyes trail over me without any change in his expression. Is he glad to see me? Is he as nervous as I am? Once he’s taken all of me in, his lips lift in the softest of smiles. “Donovan.”
Oh. My name on his lips, spoken in his deep, smooth voice, ripples through me and speaks volumes. It’s not just my name. It’s his gratitude and admiration and intimidation and attraction all rolled up into three syllables that are tied directly to me.
My breath slides into my lungs, and I leap forward, crossing the last bit of space between us and throwing my arms around his neck.
He instantly wraps me up in the tightest hug of my life, lifting me off my feet as he buries his face into my neck and lets out a shaky breath.
I have never been held like this, and it’s more than his height or his strength.
Just like with the way he said my name, I feel every bit of his love in his hold.
I feel cherished.
“You’re here,” he whispers.
“You’re here,” I counter.
“I needed a soft place to land.”
“So you came to Solace Creek? To my home?”
Chuckling, he slowly sets me back on my feet but only loosens his hold on me by a fraction. “I wanted to be somewhere that would make me think of you.”
“There’s no way you’re real, Derek Riley,” I whisper and lean back so I can get a good look at his face.
But seeing his face reminds me that it’s been months since I last kissed this man, something he seems to be realizing as well when his eyes darken and drop to my lips. “Prove you’re not a fantasy.”
With a flash of a smile, he slides his hand behind my neck and covers my mouth with his in a kiss that would knock me off my feet if he wasn’t holding me. It’s hungry and tender and desperate all at the same time, and so much better than I remember.
My memory is apparently crap.
Just when I think this moment can’t get any better, Derek runs both hands through my hair, pushing it away from my face, and presses his forehead to mine as he breaks the kiss to say, “Just so you know, I’m still as madly in love with you as you pretended not to be back in June.
In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s gotten worse with time. ”
I might genuinely swoon. Desperate for something to steady me, I press my hands to his chest. My eyebrows fly high.
“Dang, Riley, did you get bigger over the last few months?” Needing to find the answer for myself, I move my hands to his biceps, and either my memory really didn’t serve me well, or Derek managed to do the impossible and outdo himself.
Grinning, Derek scoops me up without warning and starts heading for the nearest cabin.
“Pops helped me prioritize and delegate so I could build more free time into my life, and in return I’ve been helping around here.
When were you going to tell me your Nova money funded the refurbishment of the ranch? ”
“Uh, never?” I tuck my arm around his shoulders, knowing full well I could walk next to him but letting him carry me anyway.
“But I’m not surprised Pops brought it up.
Uncle Keith keeps trying to convince me that I should let him pay me back, and I keep telling him no.
We Tates are stubborn when it comes to money. ”
“Yeah, I got that sense the second time you and I met.” As we reach the cabin door, he sets me on my feet and gestures for me to go inside ahead of him. “Coffee?”
“You actually know how to make coffee? Wait, don’t answer that. I forgot who I’m talking to.”
As Derek laughs and gets to work in the kitchen, I take a seat on a stool and look around the space.
All the private cabins are the same—kitchen, living room, and bathroom on the ground floor, with one or two bedrooms in the loft above—but this one feels lived in rather than a temporary space like I’m used to the cabins being.
There are books stacked on the end table, one of them with a bookmark halfway through.
Shoes lined up by the back door. A winter coat ready and waiting in the partially open closet.
Maybe it’s not immediately obvious to the eye, but the cabin feels like Derek.
“How often do you come out here?”
He looks up, lifting an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Like, has this been a base camp while you go back and forth between stuff for work?” Most of the time when we talked over the summer, he kept the conversation geared toward me and didn’t say much about himself, and now that I’m thinking back on our chats, if ever he mentioned anything related to his job, he kept things on the down low.
And since he’s Derek Riley, I didn’t question it much.
Grinning, he shakes his head as he pours coffee into two matching mugs. “You’re assuming I ever left.”
I frown. “I know you’ve been doing a lot of things remotely, but there have to have been some things you needed to be in LA for, right?”
Grabbing creamer from the fridge, he pours a small amount into one of the mugs and slides it across the counter to me. It looks like he got the ratio just right. But how did he know?
“That last morning on the river,” he explains, answering the question that must be on my face rather than the one I asked out loud. His shrug as he sips from his own mug would drive me nuts if I didn’t desperately love this man.
“You’re unbelievable,” I mutter. “How do you remember that?”
He wordlessly pulls his little notebook from his pocket and sets it on the countertop between us.
I stare at it for three seconds before I can bring myself to look back up at him. I might start crying again. “You wrote down how I like my coffee?”
Again, he’s quiet as I open the notebook, flipping through the pages until my eyes catch on my name in bold at the top of a page in the middle of the book.
Most of the page is filled with questions and surface-level observations.
What makes her so defensive? What happened to make her so distrustful of my career?
She’s confident in almost everything. The other guides follow her lead without hesitation.
The next page is more of the same, but both the questions and the observations get deeper.
Does anything scare her? Her confidence wavers when she’s talking about herself.
His notes about me span several pages, not just facts he learned on the river but things I’ve told him over text or phone calls.
Everything from my coffee order to the way I stay pretty lucid when trying to fall asleep until it hits me all at once and I’m out cold.
“I figured you should know about that,” Derek says softly, and there’s actually a nervous quiver in his voice. “In case I’m too much for you and you want some space.”
I scoff, still reading through the notebook. “Is this you trying to scare me off?”
“This is me reminding you that I don’t like to do things halfway.
I master skills rather than dabble in them.
I study how people tick and take more notes about them than anyone realizes.
I put my entire career in jeopardy because I can’t bear to be more than a few hours away from you, even if I can’t be with you. ”
I look up, and my heart thuds in my chest when I see the sincerity in his expression. “But you were filming.”
He shrugs again, so casual despite what he just told me. “I convinced the studio to move the location to just outside Torrey.”
That’s only an hour from the ranch. “And your interviews and things? You’ve really done them all from Solace?”
“I barely lasted a day in LA.”
“And you haven’t been back?”
“I’m braver when you’re around.”