Fired Up

Chapter Fourteen

“You two make one hell of a team,” Layla said as she accepted bottled water from Jillian.

“Same can be said for you and Avery.”

She spared a glance over her shoulder and grinned at the hunky cowboy. He winked. She sighed contentedly and returned her gaze to Jillian.

“He’s got Light Your Fire down in more ways than one,” Jillian said with a teasing laugh.

“I can’t and won’t deny that.” Layla was quiet for a moment, wondering how much she could divulge.

But according to Avery, this woman had had her fair share of trauma to deal with. And also came from a vastly different lifestyle than Jack’s.

So Layla took a chance and said, “I see the appeal of this ranch. Without doubt. I also understand the hold it has on everyone.” She quickly added, “Not in a bad way. But in a familial way. It’s a lifetime commitment for most.”

“Including a couple of Reeds who aren’t here full time. Riley arrived before the bash and stepped right into helping out. Luke contributes monetarily ... regardless of Jack grumbling about it.”

“But ... no sign of a white flag from Caleb Reed?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Jillian commented.

“Seems so—”

“Wrong?”

“Yeah.”

“Depends on your perspective, I guess,” Jillian said. “Jack feels this place is better off never hearing from or seeing his uncle again. Though, he is still waiting for him to repent.”

“I suppose Avery is too.” She gave this thought. “Thing about that is, you can hold out hope where there is none and be even more devastated in the long run.”

“Meaning?”

“I was in a situation where I wanted someone to recognize his faults and atone,” Layla told her. “While also fearing he never would. Avery walks a similar tightrope with his dad.”

“Yes, he does. But ... tell me more about you.”

Layla shrugged. “I still have to suss it all out. I haven’t even shared the latest with Avery. However ...” She let the thoughts roll more freely through her brain. Then she said, “I had this terrifying experience that left me in the hospital. A ruthless attack. And I had to become someone else in order to ‘disappear.’ But now ... the assailant is dead. And that changes everything.”

“Oh, my.” Jillian seemed to absorb this, then said, “I’m not sure what you know about me. But I ended up in the hospital, too, following a trampling incident at a concert. People stepped all over me. I lost a fiancé, who couldn’t deal with the tragedy, and also an unborn baby. My friends and my shelter—my possessions. I almost lost my life.”

A visible shudder ran through her.

Layla reached for her hand on the counter, understanding her pain, and gave it a brief squeeze as a sign of empathy. As Todd had done for her.

Jillian continued. “I gave up all hope in humanity and hid away for a while. Bought a small house in a quiet neighborhood and closed the door on everything and everyone.”

“I did that, too, for a couple of years.”

“Because you thought someone would come after you?”

“Or go after my daddy,” Layla confessed. “I couldn’t put him in jeopardy.”

“Now this person is gone. And you’re unshackled from your past,” Jillian said with relief in her tone.

This knotted Layla’s stomach. “Not exactly.”

Jillian’s brow crooked with curiosity.

“Certainly, it’s liberating,” Layla told her. “It’s just that ... for the last five years, I’ve lived with a different name, a different face. With a blank page for a past. I was Tess Billings for over two decades, and yet I feel as though I’ve been Layla Jenson even longer. In spite of how odd it still is to catch a glimpse of myself.”

This was one of the more grueling parts.

“I had major reconstructive surgery. And when the bandages were unraveled and I stared into a mirror for the first time, I nearly passed out. A total Man in the Iron Mask moment when that mask was removed. I was shocked.”

“I can’t even imagine . . .”

“It was quite bizarre. But I was also blessed because it gave me a second chance,” Layla said. “I wanted to look different, for vanity reasons. Well, professional ones too. More importantly, I needed to look different, for my own safety. And I did.” She gave a small shrug. “I do. Changed my hair color and my makeup once I’d left the hospital, which was sometime down the road. The few staff members dedicated to my case moved me from room to room and even faked discharge papers so that anyone asking about me wouldn’t know I was still there.”

Jillian’s brows knitted.

Layla explained, “The lie that was initially told was that I was in a car accident. The nurses knew better. And protected me.”

“That’s all very terrifying.”

“No more so than being trampled,” she countered.

“No one was seeking me out to do further harm, Layla. I was left all alone.”

“True. And now that there’s no longer a threat to me and my family... I’m looking at the potential to achieve all the dreams I once had for myself. I’m just not sure how to proceed. I like what I’m doing today. But I still have bigger aspirations. And am thus having an identity crisis. At the age of thirty.”

“I can relate in a way,” Jillian said. “I was told not to expect children. So I erased all thoughts of becoming a wife and a mother. For years. And now? Turns out I’m pregnant.”

“Huge congrats there.” Layla smiled.

“I could not be happier.” She drew in a deep breath. Let it out slowly. And added, “This entire ranch adventure has been therapeutic for me. A reclusive insomniac who can now sleep through the night and get on a plane to join Jack in front of a live audience of over two hundred. I knew I had to step outside my box, and this was the perfect place to do it.”

“I can certainly recognize that.”

“I’m still wary of the crowds,” Jillian acknowledged. “Yet with Jack by my side and all the Reeds supporting me ... I’ve been able to stretch much further than I’d ever anticipated these past six years.”

“That’s really saying something for someone who gave up on humanity.”

“Indeed. Also, it turns out ... I need people. I enjoy the interactions. Being with Jack makes it much more comfortable.”

Layla sipped her water. And said, “I believe in that.”

“You know ...,” Jillian hesitantly told her, “you could spend some time here. After the season’s over. What better place to evaluate your next steps?”

They stared at each other.

Layla grasped her meaning. Jillian thought she could find catharsis on the TRIPLE R the same way she had. With a sexy cowboy.

And that thought wasn’t so easily discarded.

Except . . .

“I don’t think trying to ascertain whether I’m Tess or Layla while getting more deeply involved with Avery is wise. I learned some painful lessons as Tess that I don’t want to repeat as Layla.”

She spared another glance over her shoulder. Avery caught it and squinted his eyes, as though pondering her conversation with Jillian.

She tore her gaze from him and said, “It’s weird to see life in a whole new light.”

“For sure. But letting people help you through it isn’t a sign of weakness, Layla. That’s my lesson learned.”

Layla nodded. “I hear you, Jillian. I truly do.”

They tapped the rims of their waters.

At that point, the men joined them. Jack rounded the island to stand next to Jillian while Avery slid into a barstool next to Layla.

“Y’all were talkin’ about us, right?” Jack asked in an affable tone.

Layla smiled. “In a roundabout way.”

“Well, that’s something,” Avery said with a casual grin.

“I’m thinking that taking our minds off BBQ and competitions and all of our personal challenges might be in order,” Jillian offered.

“In that case ...” Jack brightened. Like the world needed that. The man was his own glow stick, radiating amusement and virility. “What do you ladies say to an evening out? We can have a late supper at Luke’s. Invite Wyatt and Mateo. Chance. Garrett and Mindy—I’m sensing there’s something going on there.”

Jillian snickered. “Saw that coming a mile away, cowboy. Nice of you to catch up.”

His smirk was a playful one. Then he added, “Mom won’t mind watchin’ the two hooligans.”

“As if Hunt and Ale could ever qualify as that,” Avery said in a droll tone.

“My dog might, eventually,” Jillian joked. “He’s becoming more and more of a circus act with this big audience on the ranch.”

“Those boys love it when he hams it up,” Jack told her. “They want to build a Westminster-style obstacle course for him on the event lawn.”

“Oh, geez ... Ollie’ll love that,” Jillian said.

“Indeed. Now back to the idea on deck—we’d all like a night out, right?” Jack asked as he clapped his hands together.

“I just need to feed the cowboys,” Avery stated.

Layla was on board. “I wouldn’t mind a traveling family dinner. Todd and Brodi can meet us there.”

“And I’ll call Riley,” Jack said. “Tell her to bring her appetite for Luke’s fajitas and her guitar.”

“Little dancing never hurts,” Avery mused.

“Sounds like we have a plan,” Layla concluded. “I’m happy to help you with the chuck, cowboy. As long as I don’t step on Ritchie’s toes.”

“Just be sure to wipe away the spittle from the corners of his mouth from time to time,” Avery jested. “He tends to drool when you’re near.”

She leaned in. Kissed him. And whispered, “You don’t?”

Jack hooted. “She got ya there.” He whisked Jillian off. The kids followed, along with the dog.

Layla slipped from her seat and inched closer to Avery, winding her arms around his neck as she stepped into the V his parted legs created.

She kissed him deeply, loving that he responded fiercely, pulling her tight into his embrace. Tangling his tongue with hers. Hitching their breaths.

As she’d mentioned previously, in moments like these, time ceased to exist. So, too, did the push-and-pull conflicts. Which were amplified by Layla’s newfound emancipation.

She could go wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

Be whoever she wanted to be.

Though at present ... being the object of the hotter-than-hell cowboy’s desire was all that mattered to her.

At present.

Sharing bathroom space with Avery wasn’t necessary, due to him having additional ones.

But Layla liked it.

Only downside was that they constantly got sidetracked.

Showering together was its own time zapper as they got handsy with each other. Then there were all the frozen moments that came from stolen glances, which led to naughty thoughts of staying naked and going at it again. And again.

But then Chance was barreling through the front door and hollering up at them to get a move on.

Layla simpered. “He just has no idea how distracting you are.”

“Ditto for you, darlin’.”

She sped up her primping while Avery dressed.

Meeting in the bedroom, they simultaneously sniggered at each other.

“Just doesn’t seem to be a point to going out when you look like that, honey. And there’s that big ol’ bed over there.”

She wore a spaghetti-strapped, fit and flare LBD with turquoise suede ankle boots that had fringes and some bling.

“Don’t go thinking I’m not on the same wavelength, cowboy. You’re something to look at when you’re straining all your muscles over a fire or liftin’ a sixty-pound pig. But you also clean up nice.”

His outfit complemented hers. He was dressed all in black.

He plopped his hat on his head and held his hand out to her.

“Best we get a move on,” he said. “Or Chance’ll walk in on us in our birthday suits.”

“That door does have a lock, right?”

He chuckled. “We’re committed. Let’s go.”

She nodded. “I’m actually looking forward to this.”

“Me too.”

They took the stairs and met Chance in the living room.

He whistled and said, “My, my, Miss Layla. You just get prettier and prettier.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Such the flirt.”

“Yeah, so stop that,” Avery mock glowered. “I’m focused on one competition only. Lemme land the girl without me having to arm wrestle you for her.”

“The victory is yours,” Chance retorted with his hands in the air, in surrender.

Layla’s hand fluttered over her heart. “Brothers fighting over me. Isn’t that just the sweetest?”

“It’d be the one time I didn’t let him win at something, darlin’.”

Chance laughed. “Let me win? Are you feelin’ all right, little bro?”

Avery grunted. “We’d better pick up Wyatt and Mateo now. She’s probably tapping her toe, wondering where the hell we are.”

“As if!” Chance guffawed. “I’ll have to cajole them downstairs as well. Two of ’em can’t keep their paws off each other when they’re in the same room.”

“Jack will have done the heavy lifting for you. He has to be chompin’ at the bit to get Jillian into a social environment.”

“Not like she doesn’t have bodyguards,” Chance said. “If she’s feeling the slightest bit uneasy, she can just glance around the table to one of us—and know we won’t let anyone get close if she doesn’t want them to.”

“Luke’ll put us all in a corner,” Avery commented. “Out of the way of the crowd. He knows not to push her boundaries.”

Layla stared at Avery. Then Chance. Then Avery.

She felt the sting at the back of her eyes.

“Jillian’s not even a Reed yet, not officially,” she said in a quiet voice. “And you guys are already fixated on how to ensure she’s not overwhelmed or anxious about being surrounded by people.”

“Her phobia can’t be discounted,” Chance pointed out.

“More than that,” Avery added, “anyone in our group who’s uncomfortable for whatever reason deserves our support.”

“Wow.” She blinked away tears, though there were trickles at the outer corners of her eyes. And her nose twitched. “Don’t y’all take the cake?”

“Please don’t mention cake.” Chance grimaced. “I’m starvin’.”

“Let’s head out.” Avery herded them toward the door. “Jack and Jillian will take Garrett and Mindy into town.”

Layla texted Brodi to alert her they were on their way.

The trip to Serrano wasn’t a hop, skip, and a jump away but just the right length for Layla to ask Chance about his take on the show and find out more about the ranch routine from his perspective.

He was in charge of the wranglers, the stable hands, and the occasional day workers. He also coordinated all the movements of the cattle from pasture to pasture. The branding, the breeding, the vaccinating, the loading of sold cows, and the unloading of steers and heifers bought at auction.

“How do you keep your eyes open?” she asked. “That’s exhausting.”

“No more so than what everyone else does,” Chance told her in a humble tone—not one she was used to from this Reed. “Mateo’s gone from sunup to sundown, sometimes for days, attending auctions, Bureau of Land Management meetings, statewide ranching town halls, other TRIPLE R business.”

Avery told her, “And Wyatt’s got her hands full with a part-time job, coaching Hunt’s soccer team, shuttling everyone around, managing Jack’s analytics and marketing, and keeping things organized on the ranch.”

“It’s a fascinating paradigm,” Layla said. One she didn’t delve any deeper into at the moment because they arrived in town. Avery parked and then came around to collect her as Mateo assisted his wife out of the extra cab.

They entered the festive cantina, Luke immediately swooping in to introduce himself to Layla.

“Lord have mercy,” he drawled, “I don’t know why all you lovelies are bypassin’ my joint and heading straight out to the ranch.” He lifted the back of her hand to his lips. Kissed it faintly.

“Try not to swoon, honey,” Avery joked without humor. “He’s our smoothest operator.”

And bearing the Reed men’s devastatingly handsome looks. His hair was a tad lighter than Avery’s, and his eyes were sky blue. The resemblance was uncanny, though there were absolute distinctions.

Luke Reed had “playboy” written all over him.

This notion was backed up as he shifted his gaze to Brodi, who’d just joined them, with Todd in tow.

“Thanks for the invite,” she told Layla. Then glanced at Luke and said, “Whoa! Get out!”

He grinned. Quite devilishly. “Luke Reed, at your service, darlin’.”

“Holy Christ,” Brodi murmured. “What’s up with these genetics?”

“Right?” Layla teased.

“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?” This from Todd.

“You have a certain aesthetic with your sandy-brown hair and all-American looks,” Brodi informed him in a feisty tone. “But you’re my boss. I can’t get gooey over you.” Her gaze returned to Luke. “You, however ...”

“Hey, what happened to hating on schmoozing?” Layla ribbed her.

“Well, he wasn’t at the BBQ bash, so I didn’t get the chance to decide if I wanted to schmooze on him.”

Luke’s laughter filled the bustling entryway. “I like her. I do.” He offered his arm to Brodi and escorted her—and the rest of them—to the long table he’d had set in a far corner, as Avery had predicted. One that also faced the dance floor. “Y’all settle in now, and I’ll have waiters take your drink orders. Already have the kitchen staff working on a spread for ya.”

He winked—at Brodi, or in general, Layla couldn’t discern.

But next to her, Brodi whispered, “I’m gonna need to change my thong.”

“Oh, my God!” Layla exclaimed, drawing all the attention her way as everyone situated themselves.

“You can’t tell me you’re not all worked up,” Brodi said.

Layla blushed. “I’m just excited about the fajitas.”

Avery made a face.

“Not that your food doesn’t thrill me as well,” she told him. “It’s just that I saw that segment of you and Luke grilling up fajitas at the street festival, remember? And I’ve been dyin’ to try them ever since.”

His brow skewed in a peculiar way, as though he wasn’t sure he believed her.

She giggled. “I’m not hot for your cousin,” she murmured in his ear. “Brodi, though ... well, she just might be.”

She left that comment as is.

The servers delivered beers, margs, and tequila. Water for Jillian, per her request.

They all toasted with their drinks, and then Luke and his staff laid out sizzling fajitas, tamales, and enchiladas—with chips, salsa, and guacamole.

The lights dimmed, and the neons came on.

Everyone at the table dug into the spicy food.

They were only halfway through the meal when Riley Reed blew in like the Tasmanian Devil.

There was absolutely no missing her.

She strutted in wearing a curve-hugging black mini in a tank style, with black-and-silver snakeskin thigh-high boots, carrying a guitar case in her hand. The locals went crazy for her. Like she was their biggest celebrity—even more so than Jack.

She high-fived and hugged people as she headed for the family table.

Layla shared a look with Jillian, who said, “She’s her own magnetic force.”

“Yes, she is,” Avery agreed before he hopped to his feet to pull out the chair on the other side of him. Riley hugged her way around the table first. When she reached him, he said, “I want you to meet someone.”

“Ah, Layla Jenson.” They shook. Quite vigorously, on Riley’s part.

Layla asked, “You’re watching the cook-off?”

“Heck, yeah, I am!” she declared. “I would’ve stopped by the ranch, but I was having a breakthrough with Whit. Y’all,” she enthusiastically announced, “he performed in front of five live people!” She flashed all fingers on her free hand.

“As opposed to five dead people?” Chance jested.

She shot him a sassy look.

To Layla, she said, “Whit suffers from stage fright. Records all of his performances. But last night, he allowed some folks into his backyard where he’s built his own stage. Boy howdy, was he sweatin’ bullets. Pulled it off, though. Like a firecracker!” Her deep-blue eyes sparkled. “I’ll have him entertaining an audience of twelve by the end of next week, mark my words! Before we know it, he’ll be in Nashville with me, singing my songs.”

Avery took her case from her, and she plopped into her seat.

“Is there a crush happenin’ here?” Chance asked her.

“Could be.” Riley’s expression turned sly.

She was a stunning redhead who emitted the same energy as Brodi, so Layla knew they would hit it off.

Various conversations ensued, with more laughter erupting than was polite for a public establishment, and yet no one outside their group seemed to mind. Likely expected it from a family with charisma to spare. Also, Layla suspected the Reeds didn’t get out that much as a collective unit, given all they had going on at the ranch, and individually.

When Riley’d had her fill of Luke’s food, she shoved back her chair, grabbed her guitar case, and went to the opposite corner of the vast restaurant, where two men were setting up a drum kit and amps. The bass player tuned his guitar as Riley tested the sound system.

She told the crowd, “Y’all know my two best cohorts from high school, twins Ken and Len.”

A round of applause followed.

“That commonality bonded us at first,” she said with mischief in her tone. “Then we stumbled upon loud instruments in the music room while all the other kids were on the playground at recess—and were inseparable thereafter.”

“Didn’t y’all get busted for that?” asked an audience member with a deep, authoritative voice.

Riley searched the cantina for the culprit who’d made the query. She smiled. As vibrantly as all the other Reeds.

“Well, Principal Meyers, you weren’t exactly Johnny-on-the-spot the first few weeks we were, uh, practicin’.” She cringed. “But you did eventually sniff us out.”

“I was just giving y’all the chance to get better,” he retorted. And made a scary face.

Everyone laughed.

Including Riley.

“Considering music was part of the academic curriculum,” she told her captive audience, “Principal Meyers did allow us to continue our experiment. Here’s how we fared.”

She struck the first chords, and the band launched into an upbeat tune that got people on their feet and filling the dance floor.

Avery had Layla in his arms before she could even catch her breath.

He pulled her in tight, given the limited space.

She didn’t mind.

“I can’t get over how dynamic your family is,” she told him.

“We have our moments.”

“Times a lot.” She snuggled closer so she could speak softer. “Guessing I’m breaking plenty of women’s hearts tonight.”

“Again . . . I haven’t noticed.”

She stared up at him. “Maybe tilt your hat back a little, cowboy. So you can see properly.”

“I’m gazing down on all I wanna see, honey.”

She nearly missed a step as warmth oozed down her spine. But he had a firm grip on her. “Less flirtatious appeal would keep me upright.”

“But do I really want you upright?” He flashed a grin. “I mean, all the time?” He shook his head. “No, I do not.”

“Your attempt to seduce me is unwarranted,” she assured him. “I’m going home with you, cowboy.”

“Doesn’t that make my night?” He kissed her.

She teased him a bit, saying, “Only because that’s where my car is.”

“Ha, ha.”

He gave her a spin, and she cozied up to him again.

“This actually isn’t a slow song,” she mused.

“Do we care?” he countered.

She nipped his lower lip. And said, “No, we do not.”

They kept to their private spot on the dance floor as Riley and her boys morphed from one tune to the next.

Until Avery let out a low groan and told Layla, “You rubbing against me like this is inciting all kinds of wicked thoughts.”

“And you only have so much time before you’re back to cooking for the cowboys.”

“Not to mention, I bet Mateo’s itching to get Wyatt home.”

Layla nodded. “Points well taken.”

Chance was ready to knock off, too, given he had an equally early morning on the horizon.

They waved to Riley, said their goodbyes to everyone else, and departed.

As Layla fell into bed with Avery, she said, “I have to be back in town tomorrow for the production meeting with Todd that never actually happened.”

His brow raised, reminding her that she’d yet to enlighten him about what’d had her in tears.

“I’m too tired to talk about it,” she admitted. “And the only reason I’d keep you up this late is if you wanted to make love to me.”

“You know I do.”

She smiled. “Then have at it, cowboy.”