BIG MAN'S WIFE
Page 2
I'm done with her.
Walking back inside the barn, I just can't shake her from my head. Her tight black skirt, her long slender legs, her cleavage popping out of the top of her white button-up blouse. And those plump, juicy lips, tinted pink, and shining like they're coated with glass. She looked so damn kissable.
I'd like to peel those layers right off her, every single piece of clothing, and make her see again how good being dirty can feel.
Raking a hand through my hair, I force the thought away. She's not here because she wants to be. I could see it in her expression. She's here for business.
She's here to take my family's legacy, to turn into fucking condos or some shit. I won't do it. I'm not destroying what my parents built. No amount of money is worth it.
What bothers me most is that she doesn't even seem to care. She doesn't care at all about the time we spent here or the memories we share.
Jenna sees dollar signs, and I see pavement. She sees more money, and I see lost trees.
Laughing to myself, I grab the hammer and a horseshoe. There's only one motel in this town, and she's going to get quite the surprise once she gets there. I wonder what she'll say then.
Hitting the shoe a few more times, I move to the stalls and put it on Swanson, one of our horses. I'm trying to keep myself occupied, but this fucking girl is all I can think about. She's gorgeous. In my mind I keep replaying the way she licked her lips. How the tip of her tongue swept across her bottom lip, wetting it perfectly. And now all I want is to feel her wrap those lips around my cock. Her hair looks soft, and my fingers itch to grab a fist full and tug it hard.
Fuck, Ryder! Enough!
I can't do this to myself. I just can't. These feelings, the desires, the urges, they have no place in my life anymore. Especially when she's just rich and evil in the suit of a goddess. Jenna doesn't deserve one single thought or breath from me.
I thought I was over her, but clearly the knife I felt in my chest the second I laid eyes on her is telling me I'm not.
She left. She left and forgot about me. She forgot about the small town that created her and the people who loved her.
I've spent my entire life in this place. My hands are scarred, rugged, and have all the signs of a man who works for what he has. I can look around and see everything I've helped build or built myself. Nothing's been handed to me. School, a social life, all of that took a backseat to this place.
Because my father taught me about what matters most in life. He taught me about working hard, he taught me about stepping into his shoes, he taught me that life is something you build, not something that's gifted as a present.
Not all of us were handed a blank check and given the opportunity to do whatever the hell we want. Some of us still know the meaning of family, hard work and loyalty.
Now she thinks she can just show up one day and steal it from me? Does she really think she can put a price on my family's name? On their hard work? On my hard work? No. Not happening. Not everything in life can be bought just because you have the money to take it.
She doesn't get to abandon me, have the entire world placed at her feet, bought and paid for by some millionaire asshole, and think we're going to see eye to eye.
Those eyes. . .
Her glistening blues glow in my head. Big, bright, and blue as the ocean. They draw me in, they always have. My mind wanders to thoughts of her looking up at me while she sucks my cock.
I could easily take her, fuck her until she can't walk, and her heels are nothing more than an ornament on her naked body.
Damn it, I'm doing it again.
I need to do something else to keep my mind busy.
Grabbing a wheel barrel, I start filling it with hay. Noticing the bales are all lopsided and about to topple over, I put my energy into fixing them.
Sweat is pouring over my temples as I heave giant bales on top of each other. I'm doing anything I can to not think about fucking this girl. Every task I can find, I throw myself in feet first.
Cleaning the pig pens, feeding the chickens, cleaning the stalls for the horses. But nothing is working. I can't stop myself. The images keep coming, vivid and alive.
Her head looking back at me over her shoulder as she moans loudly and begs me to fuck her harder. Her legs splayed wide open with her palms pressing against the wall, knuckles almost white.
My fingers running up and over her thighs, cupping her mound as I slam deep inside her heat. I'll flick her clit, I'll work that uptight button until the girl I remember finally comes back.
It doesn't work that way. People change with time, and too much time has passed to pull the city out of that girl.
Hanging my head, I stroke my favorite horse, Juniper. He lets out a bray in my face, nudging me toward the saddle. He might be right. I need to get away for a bit to clear my head.
“You want to go for a run, Juniper? Is that what you want?”
He neighs again, stomping his front foot and pushing his nose against my chest.
Running my hand up the bridge of his nose, I agree. “All right, let’s get out of here for a bit.”
Saddling him up, I climb on top, giving him a squeeze with my legs. He knows exactly what I need right now. He always has. My dad got him when I was ten, he was two then, fifteen now.
He walks out of the barn, clopping down the trail that runs beside the apple trees. Giving him another squeeze, he takes off running. The wind blows through my hair and moves over my face. Tightening my grip on the reins, I lift up slightly as he gallops down the trail.
And for right now, for this small moment in time, nothing else exists.
There's no pending fight to keep my farm. There's no intense burn in my gut from the girl who stole my heart when we were kids. There's no fear that if I make the wrong choice, it will change my little sister's life forever.
Right now, it's just me and my horse.
3
Jenna
Standing in the parking lot outside the entrance of the motel, I look up at the building. The white paint is chipped and flaking off. Only five of the letters are lit and glowing. It doesn't say Pitt Motel like it should, it says It Moe.
The crazy thing is, it still looks the same as I remember. It's more rundown, but the familiarity is there.
Walking inside, a small bell jingles above my head. Glancing around, I see a young girl slouched behind the front desk, her face buried in a magazine.
Moving to the counter, I say, “Hello.”
She pops her eyes up to me from behind the magazine, and has this look on her face like I just ruined her day. “We're full,” she says instantly, lifting the magazine back up over her face.
“Excuse me?” I ask. Did she really just dismiss me like that? Arching a brow, my lips fold into a heavy scowl.
“I said we're full. Sorry,” she says with a little snotty pitch in her tone.
Scoffing, I purse my lips. “I'm sorry, that can't be right.”
“Yeah? You're saying I'm wrong? That I don't know what we have available in the place where I work?” Her tone is harsh, and I'm not really in the mood to argue. I just want a bed, a bath, and maybe a couple of martinis. That's it.
“Look, I don't know what's going on here, but let's start over. I'm only here for tonight, and I don't need anything super fancy. Can you just double check for me? I'm sure you can find at least one open room.”
Her eyes look me up and down, and she chuckles to herself. “By the way you're dressed, I highly doubt you even remember what dirt is, let alone accept something that isn't fancy.”
My mouth hangs open, eyes wide as I stare at the young receptionist behind the front desk. “The sign outside says there are vacancies,” I snap. “So do your job and find me a damn room.”
I'm done being nice. Any courtesy I had left is gone. I don't care if I sound rude, this girl will renting me a room tonight.
The girl is staring up at me as she chews on bubble gum, blowing a small bubble and popping it with he
r teeth. “I think I already made myself clear, we're full.”
“No, that's not right. I don't know what your problem is, but how about you tap on that little keyboard there and check again.” Pointing down, I'm not even trying to hide my annoyance.
This town isn't a popular vacation spot. No one willingly comes here for anything. There's no way every single room is full when there are only two other cars in the parking lot. I don't believe her. She's obviously lying.
Her eyes roll to a sign posted on the wall beside the computer. “Do you need me to read it to you? Or can you do that on your own?”
Glaring at the girl, I flick my eyes to the plaque. Management and staff reserve the right to deny service to anyone at any time.
“You've got to be kidding me? That can’t be legal,” I say sharply, darting my eyes back to the receptionist. “There's no reason to deny me a room. Why in the world would you do that? This shithole is probably barely staying afloat, and you want to willingly drive away a paying customer? Are you serious right now?”
She smiles with sinister sweetness, tilting her head against her shoulder. “You really don't remember me, do you?”
“Remember you,” I say, studying her closely.
Curly red hair, green eyes, petite, with a small scar running across her left brow. I'm trying to remember her, obviously I should, because she knows who I am. But I can't for the life of me remember who she is.
“I'm sorry, I don't.” Shaking my head, I dig through my mind, but keep coming up empty.
“My name's Melody.” Arching both my brows confused, she says, “Melody Jamison.”
As if a lightning bolt strikes me from above, images of her come flooding back into my head. It's Ryder's little sister. I can see it now. The hair color, the shape of the eyes, the high cheek bones.
Images of her as a kid flash through my head. Even the one where she got that scar. She was about five, and I was helping her dad wash down the horses. Melody was running back and forth through the barn, when she startled one of the horses. The horse kicked back, knocking a bucket with his hoof.
The bucket flew through the air, nailing her in the face. Her eyebrow spouted blood instantly, and she dropped to the ground crying.
The memory is so clear, it's like it just happened yesterday. I can't believe I forgot about that. I can't believe I forgot her.
“Oh my God, I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you. The last time I saw you, you were—”
“Seven.”
“Wow, look at you now. You're not a little kid anymore.”
“Nope. And unlike you, I don't forget things. I also don't run away in silence to avoid hurting people.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I ask, my head pulling in as I'm taken back by what she's saying. “What did I do to you that was so bad you won't rent me a room?”
I did nothing to this girl. We barely even hung out when we were kids because she's five years younger than me. She's Ryder's little sister, of course she was around all the time. But it's not like I ever did anything to hurt her.
She leans over the desk, resting her elbows on the top. “You know my brother told me someone was coming today to try and buy our farm, but I never thought it was you. There's no way in hell I'm going to rent a room to someone who wants to suck our town dry. And I'm certainly not going to rent a room to the girl who broke my brother's heart.”
Broke his heart?
I have no clue what she's talking about. Her brother was my best friend when we were kids. It's not like leaving was easy on me either. At the time I wasn't ready for a new life, but I embraced it, and now it's who I am.
I didn’t want to be the poor girl, I didn’t want to be the girl with nothing. I didn’t want to be the girl working dead end jobs just to make ends meet.
I'm Jenna Snyder, a fashion student at New York School of Design, and senior adviser for my step-father's company, Blackstone Reality. The old Jenna is gone, and I'm happy with who I am today.
But breaking Ryder's heart? That doesn't make any sense. We weren't dating. We weren't young and in love. We were just friends.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, staring at her blankly.
“Look, when you left without saying goodbye it killed him. I watched him walk around for months in a fog. He wasn't the same. You did that. And now I'm doing this. Leave the motel before I have you removed.”
“But I—”
“Get out, go find another place to stay because you ain't staying here,” she barks as she cuts me off.
“Where am I going to go? Do you want me sleeping in my damn car?” Holding out my arm, I point out toward the parking lot. “I mean come on, there's nowhere else to stay for miles.”
Melody cocks a brow, her mouth agape as she taps a pen against her palm. “I don't really care where you go. All I know is you're not staying here.” Her eyes drop down to the crossword puzzle she's working on and she leans back in her seat.
She's really serious about this.
Snatching my small bag off the floor with force, I throw open the door and go back to my car. This is ridiculous. Who the hell does she think she is?
Sitting in the driver's seat, I'm so pissed. None of this is going the way I planned. I was going to come in, get the papers signed, and be back home by tomorrow.
Ryder's being stubborn, his sister is just being straight nasty, and now it looks like I'm stuck sleeping in my damn car.
Pulling out my phone, I search to see where the nearest hotel or bed and breakfast is. Turns out the closest one is an hour and half away. That isn't going to work for me.
Laying my head back, I close my eyes and try to think if there's anyone else I can call. An old friend, a long lost family member, anyone who might be willing to take me in for a night.
There's no one. Not a soul. All my family is moved away. Moving to New York erased everything. I have no long lost friends to call. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. There is one person I can try.
I know what to do. . .
There's only one solution that my mind keeps harping on. It's hard to say no to a girl in distress, especially when she's looking you straight in the eyes. Saying no over the phone is so much easier. But if I'm right there, if they can see the stress on my face, I know I won't be turned away.
Being stubborn is one thing. Having a spine is another.
And I've got both.
4
Ryder
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The pounding on the door surprises me. Pulling my hands out of the dish water, I dry them on a towel.
It's probably just Melody. I bet she lost her damn key again.
“Hold on, I'm coming!” I call out. Pulling on the knob, I chuckle loudly. “What's the matter? Lost your—” I cut myself off as I realize it's not my sister at all. “Jenna?”
“Hey,” she says, darting eyes around my face.
I knew she'd be back soon, I just didn't expect it would only be a few hours later. She's shifting on her feet, rocking on her heels and then tipping up on her toes. She isn't looking me directly in the eyes, her eyes pop over and then flick away.
There's a sheepishness to her, as if she's had a pin stuck in her and she's deflated. I'm not sure what's going on or why she's even here right now.
“Nothing has changed in the past few hours. The answer is still no. I haven't suddenly changed my mind.”
She forces a smile, her eyes finally locking on mine. “I know, that's not why I'm here.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Well, I went to get a room up at the Pitt Motel, and your sister decided I didn't deserve one.”
“She did?” I ask, barely suppressing a laugh.
“Yup. She said it's because of who I am and the reason I'm here.” Her lips pop as she says yup, and I'm instantly thinking about those lips around my cock again.
Running a hand across my mouth, I hide the smirk. It's funny, even though I wish she hadn't done it. I know Melody doesn't like Jen
na because of me, but she really didn't have to turn her away.
“Huh,” I say, “I'm surprised.” I lie.
“Well, she did.” Her voice falters, and her eyes glisten as if she's holding back tears.
What's going on with her?
The spit fire I had seen earlier is gone. She's lost whatever power she's been running on. Maybe it's because she's not in New York anymore. This place doesn't work the way she wants it to. She can't snap her fingers and get what she wants.
I'm peering down at her, wondering what the hell she expects from me. Her body shivers slightly with the cool evening breeze.
“You want to come in for coffee or something?”
She shakes her head yes, so I step out of the way and let her inside. She follows me into the kitchen, taking off her light jacket and hanging it over the back of the chair.
“It looks the same in here as I remember. This entire town basically looks the same.”
“Some of it is, but a lot of it has changed too.” Putting on a pot of coffee, I take out the creamer and sugar, setting it on the table.
She nods, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “Yeah, but you live here. For me, every little thing I see is bringing back so many memories I’d forgotten.”
“It must be hard on you,” I say. I know my words are a little tough, but I really don't care about the nostalgia she's dealing with. “Lord knows actually living here makes everything just disappear.”
I wasn't granted a new life, miles away, where I could pretend to be someone else. For me, I have to see it and live it every damn day. Not all of us get a fresh start in life.
Her eyes shoot up to mine. There are so many words, but she keeps them in. Dropping her gaze back to her hands, she fiddles with her nails.
My gut tightens as I watch her. I'm not trying to hurt her feelings, but I don't have a single bone in my body that's going to pity the little rich girl.
Pouring us each a cup of coffee, I pass her one and take the seat across from her. She sips hers slowly. “Thanks, this is good.”