BIG MAN'S WIFE

by Penny Wylder

  What is right? Is it right for me to give up my future for this man?

  I hate that I'm doing this to him. Our time together has been great, but I'm not ready to give up on my dreams. The city calls me, just like the farm calls him.

  Ryder's hands fall off my face, and he bends down, picking up my phone off the floor. Handing it to me, he gives me an awkward smile. “Here. I'll help you finish packing.”

  We pack the rest of my stuff in silence, and he brings the bag downstairs for me and puts it in the car.

  Standing at the driver's side door, I say, “We can keep in touch, you know. It doesn't have to be like last time.”

  Smiling with thin lips, he shakes his head. “We live different lives, Jenna. You and I both know that neither one of us wants to be let down waiting for a phone call that will never come. I've done that already. I can't do it again.” Stepping in closer, he pinches my chin and lifts my head higher. “At least we always have this, and that's better than nothing.”

  Kissing me slow and soft, his hand glides up into my hair. He tilts my head so he can kiss me deeper. There's more to his kiss than just a simple goodbye. I can feel it. The sensation passes through my chest, and down into my belly. It spreads all through my muscles like an electric surge until I'm left breathless.

  Pulling away, his hand untangles from my hair and he takes a long step back. “Good luck, Jenna. I hope it all works out.” Ryder turns, walking away with his head down.

  Dropping into the front seat, I close the door. My hands are shaking as I grip the wheel, and the tears are pouring from my eyes.

  I don't understand why this hurts so much, but it does. My heart feels like it's tearing in two. As if he drove his hand inside my chest and squeezed the life right out of me.

  I don't have a choice. I can't lose everything.

  Pulling out of the driveway, I look in the rear-view mirror one last time.

  Ryder is in the background, his hands on his hips, watching me as I go.

  “I'm sorry.” I speak the words out loud, but only I can hear them.

  He's right, we are two different people. It was never meant to be.

  11

  Ryder

  I watch her pull away and my heart sinks instantly. It's literally hurting, breaking apart into a million pieces as she disappears from my life again. My stomach twists tight like corded rope. This isn't what I want at all.

  I should have done more. I should have told her exactly how I feel. I'm a fucking idiot for thinking she'd ever want to stay on her own.

  I'm a fucking mess.

  She came back to me out of nowhere. An unexpected but welcome surprise, only to run away again for a life that isn't hers. Jenna isn't made for a world of concrete and lipstick. I just wish she could see in herself what I do.

  A vehicle pulls in my driveway a few minutes after she's gone, but I don't wait outside to see who it is. I walk inside my house, pour myself a drink, and down it all in one swig. I'm tempted to pour another one, but it's only mid-day and I still have work to do.

  Hopefully the alcohol dulls the pain a little.

  Slamming the glass on the counter, I wipe my lips and let out a scratchy breath as the alcohol burns my throat on the way down. It warms me slightly, but it isn't enough to fully erase the serrated blade slicing through my chest.

  My eyes shift to the window, watching the road and wishing to see her come back. It's a flightless wish. She's fallen victim to the world Troy has dangled in front of her face like a worm on a hook.

  The fancy cars, the glamorous apartments, expensive clothes, and lord knows what else that he's given her over the years. It's all for show, none of that defines you or gives you true happiness. Like a peacock spreading its tail feathers, it's a superficial reality. It's not real, none of it is.

  At least, it's not as real as what I can give her.

  She can't see that money and expensive things don't equal happiness. Jenna isn't allowing herself to see what she can have here with me. The life she's made for. The life that will accept her with open arms and never let her down.

  If she did lose everything, no one would stand by her side, no one would swoop in and save her from falling. Not one of her so called friends would come to her rescue. That's not how it works in the world of the rich. Without the cash flow, you're out. Period.

  Dropping into the chair by the window, I lay my head back as I wait for the man to get out of his car. This has to be the guy Troy sent to replace her. He's dressed in an black suit like he stepped off the set of Men In Black. His hair is slicked back, shining like plastic.

  He's on his phone, probably getting orders from Troy about how to win me over. Her step-father thinks she couldn't do it, that she failed him because I rejected his offer. He has no idea that she won me over years before he was ever in the picture. Troy stole her from me, and now he thinks he can steal the only thing I have left of my parents.

  Not a chance in hell.

  I haven't worked my ass off to have some corporate suit take it and turn it into condos or another big chain shopping store. My father built this farm up with his bare hands. That's more impressive than Troy's bank account. I don't care how much money that guy has.

  But what if his offer is enough to bring her back?

  The thought lingers, making me question myself. With enough money, I could do anything. I could put Melody through school. I could buy a small place for myself, and never have to worry about the bills again.

  And if I'm lucky, maybe Jenna will come back to me too. If I can provide for her, and give her all the things she thinks New York can, why wouldn't she come back?

  Desperation to keep this place alive for my father isn't doing me any good if I'm not happy. Jenna makes me happy. Everything about her makes me smile from the inside out. Melody is doing her own thing, living her life like she deserves to.

  So why am I fighting for something that doesn't make me happy?

  While Jenna was here, I felt more alive than I had in years. I love this place, but I love Jenna more. There's no doubt in my mind about that.

  We're meant to be together. She was created for me and I was created for her. If my father were still alive, he'd smack me upside the head and tell me to go after her. I just know it.

  His dream was for me to take over, but what good is living if you're not happy? He had my mother, and he knew what it felt like to love and be loved. He'd never want me to miss out on that.

  She's gone. I'm going to have to live with her choice. Jenna chose money over me.

  It stings to think she only knows success as green pieces of paper and ornate jewelry. She's been conditioned to think being rich is more important than being happy. But love can't be bought or sold, it can't be packaged or designed.

  I'll never be happy without her. Her being here has shown me that. I never got over her. I never let go of her. And after having her, after holding her and kissing her, it'll never wash away.

  'Do what makes you happy.' My father's voice plays in my head.

  Running my thumb over my bottom lip, there's a knock at the door. From the window I can see the man fix his hair in his reflection on the glass storm door. He licks his fingers, brushing a few strands back into place. Adjusting his suit, he straightens his back, trying to look taller.

  These people will never go away. They're like sharks constantly circling prey. They'll keep coming back over and over again. If it isn't Troy, it'll be someone else the next time. Another corporation, another rich asshole whose greed will outweigh their humanity.

  Do what makes me happy. Jenna makes me happy, and there's only one way to get her back.

  Forcing myself up, I crack the door. “Yeah?” I ask.

  “Mr. Jamison?”

  “Yeah, that's me.”

  “I'm Craig Vernon from Blackstone Reality,” he says, holding out his hand.

  Pulling the door open wider, I push the storm door out and take his hand. “What can I do for you?” I ask.

 
I know what he wants, but I'll let him do his thing. I'm sure he spent the entire morning running what he's going to say through his head over and over.

  “Mr. Jamison, I'd like to talk to you about your farm, if that’s all right?” He lifts his briefcase and taps it with his knuckles. “I think I've got something that might make your day.”

  “Please, call me Ryder. Mr. Jamison was my father.” Taking a step out of the way, I invite him in. “We can talk in my office.”

  12

  Jenna

  “Mom?” My voice is rattling in the back of my throat as I try to hold it together. I'm on my way to the airport, but I'm not handling it very well. I can't stop crying, and breathing is a struggle.

  Her voice comes through the speakers in the car, and I hear the same flat tone as usual. “Jenna, where are you? Are you on your way home?”

  “Yes,” I say, the words coming out cracked and broken. “Have you talked to Troy? Did he tell you?”

  “Tell me what?” she asks. She's fumbling with something, I can tell. She isn't paying attention at all.

  “He's making me come back, he threatened to cut me off. He didn't tell you anything? Nothing at all?”

  “Oh, don't worry about him. It's probably just one of his moods.” Brushing away my frantic question, she says, “You know how he works.”

  There's a pop and fizz in the background. She's drinking. Again. I'm not sure if she drinks to drown out life, or if it's just because she has nothing else to do. I don't remember the last time I've seen her without a glass in her hand.

  “Mom, please, I'm trying to talk to you. Can't you listen for once?”

  I can hear her take a sip of her drink. She exhales into the phone and lets out a soft sigh. “Oh, Jenna, stop being dramatic. You know how Troy gets when he wants something. This is no different.”

  “He said would stop paying for my schooling, that he'd disown me completely.”

  “Well, what do you want me to say? I can't make choices for him, Jenna. You know that.” She smacks her lips, swallowing hard. “So, should I be expecting you home soon or not? I've got a hair appointment at six, so I'm not going to sit around and wait. I'll send the car to the airport. Just tell me what time.”

  “Forget it,” I say, hanging up on her.

  My mother's been poisoned by this world.

  She's turned into a person I don't recognize anymore. She isn't my mother. She's some weird extension of Troy, and I don't like it. A little compassion, maybe a little emotion or anger over how he's treating her daughter would be nice.

  Tears are pouring from my eyes. I can't see the road, so I pull over into the breakdown lane and park the car. Holding the steering wheel, I lay my head on it as I cry uncontrollably.

  What the hell am I doing? What is going on with me?

  Sitting up, I take a deep breath, running my hands over my head and pulling my hair back tight against my scalp.

  I'll call Meg. She'll listen.

  Scrolling through my phone, I open my messages and see the pictures and texts from my friends. Flipping through image after image, I'm met with fake smiles, fake laughs, fake everything.

  None of these people are real. Most of my friends aren't really my friends at all. They're questioning why I'm still here in the messages, why I would lower myself to stay any longer than necessary.

  These people are not who I thought they were. They don't really care about me at all, they only care about how much money I have.

  My stomach twists as the realization settles in my gut like a heavy weight. I'm not one of them. I never was and I never will be. I see that now. Ryder has given me the gift of sight. I've been blind for too long.

  Troy never cared for me, but Ryder did.

  My friends only see worth, where Ryder sees character.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  Why am I running back to a world that doesn't want me, when I have a life that's been waiting for me all this time?

  I feel so stupid for not seeing it sooner. All those years of suppressing memories and acting like one life is better than the other has pulled a veil over my eyes. But not anymore.

  Turning the wheel hard, I make a U-turn in the street, hitting the gas. I can't pretend anymore. What I feel inside is too strong to ignore.

  Ryder is the only person who loves me for me. Nothing in the world can replace that. No amount of money can ever give me what he gives me. Because with him, I'm truly alive. I have real worth.

  Whipping into the driveway, I stop the car, and jump out. Rushing into his house, I go from room to room. I'm not sure where he is, but the other car outside tells me my step-father wasn't lying. The rep is here.

  Throwing the door open to his office, Ryder is at his desk with a stack of papers in front of him. The man is pointing at a line on the bottom of the page and Ryder has a pen in his hand.

  “Jenna?” he asks in shock. “What are you doing here?”

  “Don't do it. Don't sell this farm, Ryder.”

  “What?”

  “You can't do it. You love this place, it's too beautiful and incredible to let it go. You can't do it. I won't let you. I'll do anything and everything I can to help you keep this farm. For you, for your sister, for your family's legacy. I can't let you sell it, especially to someone like Troy. He doesn't deserve something so beautiful and special. There's no way he'll ever appreciate it for what it is.”

  “Jenna—” he starts to say, but I refuse to let him finish.

  I have something to get off my chest, and he needs to hear it before this goes any further.

  “Ryder, I love you. I've loved you ever since we were kids. I never stopped loving you all these years. I just didn't know it. But I do now, I feel it and see it and breathe it in. I can feel you in every inch of my body, mind, and soul. I love you.”

  I stand still, waiting for a response. But he's silent, not moving at all.

  “Say something, anything.” I'm begging him to respond. I need to know how he feels too.

  Does he feel what I feel? It can't just be me, it's not possible. I saw the look in his eyes when I left, I felt the pain in his touch and the sadness in his kiss. I felt it like it was a living, breathing thing.

  The man glances between us, arching a single brow. “Ryder, you agreed already. You said you'd sell. All you have to do is sign. Just—”

  Ryder doesn't look at him, he simply rises from his seat and holds out his hand to stop the man from saying another word. He walks around the desk, his eyes frozen on mine.

  “You mean that?” he asks as he steps closer.

  “Every word.” I'm firm in my answer. There's no doubt in my mind.

  Capturing my face in his hands, he pulls me in and kisses me. Whispering into our kiss, he says, “I love you too. From the second I laid eyes on you, I just knew we were meant to be together. You belong here with me. This farm is a part of you too. It brought us together, not once, but twice.” His lips crash against mine as he kisses and talks. “I love you so damn much I hurt when you're not here. I can't imagine my life without you, and never I want to.”

  Our kiss turns from passionate into hungry and savage. His hands are in my hair, my hands are in his. His tongue sweeps through my mouth, and mine wraps around his.

  The man clears his throat, causing Ryder to break away and look over his shoulder. “Deal’s off. I'm not selling.”

  “But—”

  “I'll escort you out,” he commands, braiding his fingers in mine and walking to the door. He looks back at the man, glaring at him. “This way.”

  “You agreed,” the man demanded. “You can't change your mind now.” Snatching the contract off the desk, he lurches from his seat and storms toward Ryder. “Sign,” he barks, holding out the papers.

  Ryder releases my hand and takes the contract. He looks it over, then lets his eyes settle on the rep from Blackstone Reality. Pinching the middle, he tears it in two, and drops it to the floor.

  “Get out.”

  The m
an grunts heavily under his breath, tucking his briefcase under his arm and storming past Ryder. He's not happy and rightfully so. Odds are he just lost his job. My step-father doesn't play well with others, obviously.

  Ryder stands in the doorway, watching the guy leave. His tires kick up dirt as he speeds out of the driveway, causing a small smirk on Ryder's face.

  “Is it bad that I enjoyed telling him to fuck off?”

  “Not at all.” Leaning against the wall next to him, I cross my arms. “It feels good to get what you want.”

  Flicking his eyes to mine, his smile widens. “It really does.” Throwing his arm out, he yanks me into his arms. “I got everything I've ever wanted now.”

  “Yeah?” I ask, slipping my arms around his neck. “This is what you've wished for?”

  “Hundreds of times over,” he says, moving his hand to my face and sweeping his fingers across my forehead. “I can't tell you how many times I went to bed at night with you on my mind.”

  Kissing me, his lips are tender and soft. This isn't a kiss built off raw desire or need, it's made of love and passion. He loves me, he loves me in a way I've never been loved before.

  I can feel it. It passes through his kiss, spreading down through my body, infiltrating every inch of muscle. I'm warm, tingling from head to toe like I just swallowed a shot of bourbon.

  Ryder swoops his arms under my legs, lifting me off my feet. He doesn't stop kissing me. His tongue licks across my bottom lip, forcing me to open and welcome him in. He carries me upstairs easily, and kicks his door open, laying me down on the bed, delicately and gentle.

  This feels different. There are no walls between us, no fear or resistance or worry that what we're doing will one day get destroyed by an outside force.

  I'm not going anywhere. Everything I want and need is right here. It's always been right here waiting for me to come home.

  I'm home.

  Slipping his hand up my shirt, he squeezes my breast. His fingers pinch my nipple, twisting gently as he moves his lips from my mouth to my neck. I coo softly, unable to contain the sound, which causes Ryder to groan against my skin.