Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
LANIE
We Stand Tall
Cordell Rand’s world ripples around me. It’s huge; it’s oversized, rather like the man himself, and yet it’s overwhelming, too tight and confining all at once. He’s gotten so out of control so fast, high on a cruel power trip of self-sabotage.
I want to cry for him, but the tears won’t come.
What we had last night was nothing shy of perfect.
And yet, inside, I’m shaking. He laid me back on his bed afterward, spread my legs, and licked me through a series of orgasms until I lost count, his manic energy overstimulating as I shook beneath him, flooding his mouth again and again.
Then he held me as I crashed, whispering promises I don’t remember, words I wish I could find.
I wake alone, wrapped in sunlight and my freshly cleaned wolf blanket. The sheet beside me is depressed in a familiar, albeit cold, divot. I roll onto Cord’s side, inhaling his ghost.
Yes, he’d been a complete asshole last night.
Well, for part of the night. But the demanding, power-hungry rancher of yesterday accounts for less than half of the man who took me to the forest’s edge to search for wolves.
Who taught his niece how to paint cows and gave the men who surround him a reason to stay.
More than one.
This is the man I love.
The simple confession creeps over me, sinking beneath my skin until I can’t deny it any longer.
At the same time, I want to tear it away because—from the look in West’s eyes last night—Cordell Rand did something unforgivable less than a dozen hours earlier.
Even though the night we spent in each other’s arms, I’m not sure how I feel about that.
I still know so little about the enigmatic cowboy I’ve fallen so hard and fast for.
But right now, that thought process can go on hold. I wiggle my toes, testing that everything works as it should. When all the important bits prove functional, I hobble to the bathroom.
Steam quickly fills the large space. I let the water heat for a long moment and then step beneath the cascade. Despite his actions last night, I have to admit Cord played me finely. Between the two times he’s touched me, Cord has proven himself a virtuoso of the female body. Of my body.
Am I romanticizing his actions? Probably. The way he’s behaved shows me more of his world than I’m ready to see in short order. But I refuse to give up on the man who has spent an entire day fruitlessly searching for wolves after one night when he let his ego get the better of him.
One night that has been both an awakening and a peak of its own sort.
The steam and soaking heat clears my head, and fresh clothes prepare me for a day of facing hard conversations I know I need to have. I tug my jacket over a shirt covered in tiny wolves and pad barefoot down the hall to find my boots.
Cord’s office door stands ajar. I peer through the slim gap, unable to keep my curiosity at bay. I want to see this side of the infamous Cordell Rand in action.
Familiar, broad shoulders stretch his favorite blue shirt tight.
Cord leans forward over his desk, listening to a call on speaker, though the sound is turned down.
He shakes his head, unhappy with whatever he’s hearing, his voice tight in his abrupt reply, words I can’t quite make out.
Whatever restraint remains in him spools out on a frayed rein.
I close the door gently and slip past, resolving to speak to him later.
If he has time after.
He rolled me into a wolf blanket burrito after he got up, which sparks a hope that Cord is the tender man my heart wants him to be, and that I’m not talking myself into a toxic future relationship.
I snort as I pull my boots on at the door.
Apparently, being a nomadic scientist dating a rodeo champion who hosts an annual party weekend is something that takes me well outside my comfort zone.
And all that is confronting. Who knew? A party weekend habit that he broke for me.
Or tried to, and failed in a rather spectacular fashion, last night.
Who am I kidding?
I trot down the short flight of stairs at the front of the homestead, trying to work out which hat belongs to West of the backs turned to me. The boys nod as I pass; even Billy’s usually cheerful face is schooled into a blank, dusty canvas.
“Morning, ma’am,” he murmurs, his head down to shield his gaze.
I bite my lip. Dammit, what I predicted as being broken between Cord and the men he works alongside is already happening.
And Billy wasn’t even there last night, though I’m fairly sure the Coyote Falls boys gossip like any other small-town community.
Worse, maybe. “Morning, Billy. Do you know where West is?”
He points to the shed, lifting his gaze to meet mine. His eyes reflect a barely controlled anger, his intensity rocking me back a step.
“Thank you,” I murmur, sidestepping the man whom I can’t remember ever not wearing an easy smile.
“Lanie,” Billy calls. His voice is low, almost pained.
I stop, turning on my heel. My heart pounds as I glance back at him. Need laces his voice, and I’m not sure I can deal with that right now.
“Yeah, Billy?” I fake a level of cheerfulness that’s the polar opposite of the emotional void he aims at me.
“Are you gonna stay if he wins?” Billy’s gaze levels me in a breath.
I blink back at him. “Wow. You do not mince words, do you?” I hate that I’ve avoided answering his question, but as I meet his eyes, I know I don’t have the answer he seeks.
Instead, I ask a real question of my own.
“Will you stay if he does?” There’s no point pretending Billy hasn’t been talking to the boys about what happened last night.
He knows. I’m pretty sure half of Valiant Peak knows by now.
“I’ve never had a real home. Did you know that?
’ He unspools wire, cutting lengths and rolling it as he talks.
His hands never stop moving. “I was brought up in the foster system. Every few years, I moved house. Moved family. By the time I aged out, I was so used to it that I just kept moving. This sort of life seemed the safest option. You know the worst part about finding Coyote Falls?” Dark eyes lance straight through me.
I swallow. “No,” I whisper.
But I do know, even before he speaks. And those words make me want to run right back to Alaska and hide with the wolves I’m familiar with. Where nothing matters apart from my work and my data and my notes. Where everything is safe and I know what’s coming the next day. Where there are no risks.
He nods, and something inside him shutters. “Coyote Falls feels like home.”
Billy could rival Cord with those storm-born eyes.
I nearly run from him but force myself to take small steps as I retreat toward the barn.
What happened last night has altered everyone on the ranch.
A ranch most of these men consider a retreat, a home.
Many of whom have a stake to claim in some form, whether physical, emotional, or a bit of both.
My stomach lurches at the thought of the ranch in Jed’s hands. I’ve learned how he works from the boys, the stories of running his workers into the ground while he sits back, doing very little. Coyote Falls won’t flourish under his heavy hand.
A shadow moves inside the barn. I keep walking at a steady pace, conscious of the many eyes watching me cross the yard, but refuse to let the gazes bother me, outwardly at least.
I peer through the open doors. “West?”
“Yeah? Hey, Lanie.” West moves about in the dim light, pausing next to me to lean on the doorway. His brow dips as he checks me over. “Are you okay?”
Laughter bubbles inside me. The memory of Cord’s cold fury rolls over me in a jarring wave.
I know he thinks that I didn’t see it the night before, when he covered his fury at himself with his unleashed desire, becoming the cold version of himself that’s both beautiful and terrifying.
The displacement shakes me for a moment.
I watched Cord transition from a strong, hardworking man who took the time to love me, to share parts of his life that I suspect few others are blessed to see, to someone who is all rage and desires and needs that he satisfies on a whim.
He seems to lock that other , more brutal part of himself away beneath that unyielding exterior I worked so hard on cracking.
Didn’t I just get my wish.
I struggle to enunciate any of that, but I’m also terrified that if I open my mouth, it will all pour out.
The details of last night’s escapades definitely count as an overshare with my boyfriend’s best friend.
And… I’m not sure if Cord will appreciate me chatting around the farm about his personal preferences in bed.
He seems to be a pretty private person, despite having shared some pretty private things with me in the weeks that I’ve known him.
Boyfriend. Huh. The term sits oddly in my mind. It’s been a bit, but the days have merged together. Are we dating? I try to grasp the right concept and shake myself, realizing that West is still waiting patiently on my answer.
“That bad, huh?” The stocky foreman tips his hat back. I wince, expecting a glare similar to Billy’s, but while his stoic gaze is assessing, his expression holds no malice.
“A bit.” I shake my head a little too emphatically. “Last night was—” I clamp my mouth shut, keeping the words at bay. Just.
West catches my arm in a firm grip, leading me deeper into the barn’s depths. “Did he hurt you, Lanie?”
I stare up at him, my denial bubbling to my lips, but then I bite that response back, too.
Had he? Last night Cord was cold. A part of him bruised my heart, but he hadn’t physically damaged me.
If anything, he did the complete opposite, and afterward…
Heat rises along my cheeks in a flush I can’t prevent that I know West sees despite the dimmed light.