by HELEN HARDT
I’d never tire of her perfection, of her sweet sighs, deep kisses, silky fingers on my skin.
I’d never tire of her spicy fragrance, her rosy flesh, her full red lips.
I’d never tire of her perfect pussy around my fingers, around my cock.
Which meant only one thing.
This could never, never happen again. I’d live on the ranch, I’d see her, but I had to resist her. I couldn’t be alone with her. Not again.
Not ever.
And now?
I had to leave.
Chapter Thirty–Three
Marjorie
Bryce picked up his clothes and began to dress. I sighed. He was right. We’d crossed a line. I’d let my family down for a romp in the hay—an amazing romp in the hay, but still. I couldn’t let that happen again.
I followed his lead and put my clothes on. Without words, we walked out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and out the front door to Bryce’s car. Without words, he drove the short distance to the main house. Without words, he stopped, letting the engine idle.
I leaned into him, but his demeanor was icy. No goodbye kiss? No thanks for a lovely evening? No…anything?
“Good night,” I said softly. “And…”
And what? I’d been ready to say “thank you,” but why should I thank him? I didn’t need to thank a man for sex, and he didn’t need to thank me. It was a consensual act between the two of us. If we were giving thanks, it should come from both of us.
“…see you around,” I finished.
He nodded without smiling. “Yeah. See you around.”
I closed the car door as gently as I could. I doubted anyone could hear it out here, but I didn’t want to take the chance of waking anyone inside.
See you around.
Sounded like we were the athlete and the nerd in high school who were wildly attracted to each other and had just fooled around under the bleachers but couldn’t acknowledge each other in public. What the hell kind of craziness had I just allowed to occur?
I turned around to have it out, but Bryce was already backing out of the long driveway.
I sighed. Another time.
I walked into the house stealthily and went straight to my bedroom.
Though tempted, I didn’t let any tears fall.
I set the alarm on my phone. I’d be up early to do my duties. I’d let Talon and Jade down enough for now.
Talon was up first. I’d spent my entire shower trying to figure out what lie to tell him about where I’d been last night, but I ultimately decided to just apologize for not being here for them and offer no further explanation. I was a grown woman, and I certainly didn’t have to account to my big brother where I’d been.
He accepted it with pursed lips. “As long as you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” I replied as nonchalantly as I could. “Just had to take care of a few things. I should have called.”
“Yeah, you should have. We were worried.”
I said nothing. He was right. “What do you have going on today?” I asked.
“Meetings mostly. The three of us need to get the financial staff up to speed with Bryce taking over.”
I nodded, trying not to let the tension I felt show. He had to mention Bryce, didn’t he?
“How about you?” he asked.
“Not much. The usual.”
“Aren’t you going to call Colin?”
“Colin?” Right. “Yeah, sorry. I forgot. I’ll give him a call and set up a time for him to talk to Jade.”
“Good. I still don’t like the idea of me not being there.”
“We’ll be fine. I’ll be there. I’ll look out for Jade.” I’d been looking out for Jade long before Talon came into her life, but I left that unsaid.
He nodded, sipping the last of his coffee before he set down the cup and stood. “I have to look in on the hands in the field before I begin the meetings. I’m going to go kiss the boys and Jade goodbye.”
“Okay. I’ll be in to roust the boys in a few.”
He nodded again, walking out of the kitchen.
Whew! That wasn’t pleasant, but he seemed to accept that I wasn’t going to offer up any details to my whereabouts the previous evening. I hadn’t slept a wink once I’d returned, but I felt okay since I’d slept for seven hours in Bryce’s arms.
Seven wonderful hours. Granted, I had no memory of them since I was asleep, but I felt oddly refreshed this morning, both physically and mentally. Emotionally? Not so much.
I missed Bryce. I wished we’d ended it on a better note.
But I had other fish to fry today, beginning with taking care of my nephews.
I woke them and pulled them out of bed to come to the kitchen to eat. Even Donny was quiet this morning. The skies were gray, unusual for a Colorado morning, and the boys were feeling it.
An hour later, I’d dropped them at the bus stop and returned. I went in to check on Jade.
She was up and showered, a good sign.
“Starting to feel better?” I asked.
“A little less nauseated. Believe it or not, that’s a good thing. I’ve been feeling so sick that the ‘little less’ part actually feels good.”
“Feel like breakfast?”
“Yeah, actually. Maybe just some scrambled eggs and dry toast.”
“You want me to bring it in here?”
“No. I’ll come out to the kitchen.”
Oddly, she didn’t interrogate me about last night.
But it was coming. I knew Jade too well.
Once she’d sat down at the table and I’d placed her breakfast in front of her, the questions began.
“You going to tell me, or what?”
“Tell you what?”
“Yeah. Play coy,” she said sarcastically. “That always works.”
“I’m a grown woman, and—”
“I get it. That’s what you told Talon. He told me. But it won’t fly with me. Since when do we have secrets, Marj?”
“I’m really sorry if I worried you guys.”
“I know you can take care of yourself, but Tal was a little worried. I mean, after all we’ve been through and all.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I said again.
“Obviously you’re fine, so spill it.”
Words began tumbling out of my mouth in what I hoped was coherent speech. I held back the tears that threatened. For me, being strong meant no crying. I’d grown up with three brothers, and crying was for girls. Yeah, I was a girl, a girl who once liked pink and yellow unicorns, but I always vowed to be as strong as my brothers were.
I vowed that to this day.
Jade didn’t interrupt my jumbled speech, just nodded a few times.
Finally, I stopped talking.
Nothing more to say.
“He just left,” I said. “He said, ‘see you around.’”
“Sounds like you said it first.”
“Well, yeah. What else was I going to say? I wasn’t going to thank him.”
“How about something like, ‘I had a nice time’?”
I stayed silent. “I had a nice time” seemed so light and airy and noncommittal, so nonspecific. We hadn’t had a “nice time.” We’d had some intense lovemaking, the kind of lovemaking that doesn’t come along all that often. It went so far beyond “a nice time.”
At least I thought it had.
“If you want something more with him, tell him,” Jade urged.
“Like you told Talon?”
“Talon was different. He told me up front that he couldn’t love me. I accepted that.”
“Not so different. Bryce has basically said the same thing. And as I recall, you kept going back for more Talon, no matter what he said.”
“He let me come back, though,” Jade said.
“Bryce let me come back,” I said. “This was our second time, after he’d told me it could never happen again.”
“Then accept it. Accept that all you can have is sex right now. Maybe it will turn
into something more for him. It did with Talon.”
“What if he doesn’t come back for more?” I asked, almost in a whine. I hated whiny women.
“I think he will.”
“But what if he doesn’t? I don’t want to go to him. I can’t throw myself at him any more than I already have. I’m not used to being the aggressor”—I smiled—“at least not until we actually get to bed.”
“If he doesn’t, he doesn’t. It is what it is, Marj. There are other men out there.”
“Where?”
Jade shook her head. “Everywhere.”
“Not in Snow Creek.”
“Are you kidding me? We have hundreds of men right here on the ranch.”
“Fifty-year-old ranch hands who’ve been around since I was born? I don’t think so.”
“They’re not all fifty years old. A lot of them are young and hot, Marj, with amazing muscles from the outdoor work. Plus, check out some of the guys in the marketing department. Or that new guy Ryan hired to help with creating the wines. Wowza.”
“Aren’t you married to my brother?”
“And that means I can’t look? Men don’t become less hot just because you get married. Plus, I’ve been feeling so sick, ogling men is one of the few pleasures I have these days.”
That got a giggle out of me. “You’ve never been an ogler.”
“Maybe not. But I can still appreciate male beauty. There’s a lot of it here on the ranch.”
“You’ve hardly left your bedroom for the last couple months.”
“True. But I haven’t always been pregnant. I’ve lived here for almost a year now.”
“Are you kidding? You haven’t had eyes for anyone but Talon since you got here.”
“Okay, you got me. You’re right. But there are plenty of hot young men right here for you to choose from.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Choose one. Go on a date.”
“Who’s going to want to date me?”
“A beautiful ranch heiress? Who isn’t going to want to date you?”
I laughed. A date. What a concept. I hadn’t been on a date in a while. With Bryce, we’d gone straight to bed. No dates. No just having fun being with each other.
I actually missed dating. I wanted to date.
Problem was, I wanted to date Bryce.
I opened my mouth to say as much but was waylaid by my phone. A text. From Talon.
When are you and Jade meeting with Colin?
Chapter Thirty–Four
Bryce
My mother hadn’t questioned my whereabouts last night. She’d made breakfast for Henry and me, smiling.
She smiled more now, thank goodness. After we’d learned the truth about my father, she’d gone into depression. My sweet son had brought her out of it. A one-year-old little boy had done what I, her son, couldn’t. So I’d stepped aside, let her take over with Henry. She needed him more than I did.
I missed him, though. He still smiled and said “Da da” whenever I held him and played with him, but those moments were becoming fewer. I was gone more often, and even when I was here, I was mentally absent. The feeding, the diaper changing, the day-to-day caring had fallen to my mother, who didn’t mind at all.
Not that I would’ve minded.
I’d told myself time and again that this was what was best for my mother because Henry had brought her out of her depression. I’d told myself time and again that it was also best for Henry, since I was not fit to be a father at present.
I wasn’t lying to myself.
But I wasn’t being entirely truthful either.
I missed my son, so much sometimes that I physically ached. He’d become such an integral part of me, and when I was without him, I almost felt like I’d lost a limb. Only that wasn’t even close to the loss I felt.
I wasn’t what Henry needed, though. I was a fucked-up mess, and the last thing I wanted was to turn my son into another fucked-up mess.
A knock at the door startled me. “I’ll get it,” I said to my mother.
Outside, a truck was parked in front of the house, and three men stood wearing brown uniforms. “May I help you?”
“Montgomery packing and moving. Weren’t you expecting us?”
Was I? “No. I’m sorry. We’re not quite ready to pack up yet.”
“That’s what we’re here for. Just go about your business, and we’ll get everything packed up for you. Someone will need to be here, though, to tell us what goes to the new house and what goes into storage.”
My mom came to the door, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Hi, I’m Evelyn. This is my son, Bryce. I’m sorry, honey. They called yesterday while you were…out.”
“Oh.” Being out of the loop was a fact of life for me these days. “Will you be home today?”
“Of course. Where else would Henry and I be?”
A stone hit my gut. Where else indeed? She was here, taking care of my son, while I was…anywhere but here it seemed. “Come on in, I guess.” I held the door open for the three men.
“I’ll show you where to start.” My mom led them into the house.
And just like that, I prepared to leave the only home I’d ever known. I’d lived on my own from time to time—during college and then when I had a job in Denver for a while—but Snow Creek had always seemed like coming home.
I wasn’t actually leaving Snow Creek, only leaving the town to live on a nearby ranch. In a completely furnished guesthouse with four bedrooms and a pool and hot tub in the back.
“Mom,” I said, “the guesthouse is furnished, but I want to take my own bed.”
I wasn’t sure why I said that. My bed was a queen—a ten-year-old queen—and the master bedroom at the guesthouse had that luxurious king-size bed. I was being stupid. In fact, it was stupid to even put my old bed in storage. It should be sold, or better yet, tossed.
“Never mind,” I said to her when she turned to face me. “The bed at the house is better.”
“Anything would be better than your old mattress. It was mine and your fa—” She stopped and hurried away.
The queen mattress had gone into my room when she and my father bought a king.
I looked around the house. We hadn’t yet decided whether to sell or rent. Either way, we’d have a hard go of it. Who would want to buy or rent a house vacated by a psychopathic child rapist?
Maybe we couldn’t get rid of the house, but we could at least get rid of everything my father ever touched. Would that purge us of his evil?
And did I even want to be purged?
Because that was the cold, hard truth.
He had been my father, and he had been a good father, even though he’d turned out to be the embodiment of evil.
So what did that make me?
The spawn of evil?
The spawn of evil who had nothing but pleasant memories of his father for nearly the whole time he was alive?
My father had brutalized men, women, and children. Raped them. Tortured them. And then he’d come home and spent time with me. Read to me. Helped me learn long division. Taken me camping and fishing with Joe. Taught me how to hit a baseball. Shown me how to throw a perfect spiral. Taught me how to shoot a gun.
Taught me how to be a man.
A shudder ran through me.
What kind of man was I if he had been my inspiration, my role model?
My father?
Yes, I wanted to purge this house—my life—of everything he’d touched.
But I didn’t want to just as much.
Because as much as my father had been a truly evil man, he’d also been a good father.
Reconciling those two facts was impossible and the biggest reason why I was a fucked-up mess at the moment.
“Tell them to only pack the personal items in my room,” I told my mother. “The bed and other furnishings can be burned, for all I care. Everything he touched can be burned.” Then I left the house.
An hour later, I arrived at the agree
d-upon café in Grand Junction to meet with Ted Morse. He was already there, sitting in a booth. The hostess pointed him out to me.
I approached him and cleared my throat. “I’m Bryce Simpson.”
He stood. “Mr. Simpson. Ted Morse.” He held out his hand, but I didn’t take it. “Please. Have a seat.”
I resisted the urge to blurt out an apology for what my father had done to his son. I am not responsible for the sins of my father—a mantra I tried, but more often than not failed, to live by.
Silence stretched for an unbearable few seconds that seemed like hours. He’d invited me here, and I’d agreed to come to gather information for the Steels. I had nothing to say to him other than the apology on the tip of my lips. I kept them tightly closed. I would not start this conversation out by putting myself in a vulnerable position. I owed the Steels better.
Ted finally opened his mouth, but we were interrupted by our server, a middle-aged woman with graying hair. “Good morning,” she said to me. “What’ll it be?”
“Just coffee,” I said. If I tried eating while facing Ted Morse, I might spew.
“Coming right up.”
Alone again, facing the man whose son my father had ruined. I owed him nothing, especially after he’d tried to blackmail my best friend. Still, guilt gnawed at me.
I cleared my throat again. “So, Mr. Morse, what did you want to talk to me about?”
“Ted, please. And I’ll call you Bryce.”
“Okay. Fine.” Though I didn’t really see the point. We weren’t friends. We weren’t colleagues. We weren’t anything, really.
“I’ve already told you that the FBI is still working the case.”
I nodded. I had no idea if he was telling the truth, but I’d hear him out. I’d made a promise to the Steels.
“What you might not know is that they’ve identified two more persons of interest.”
“And why would I care?”
“Because one of them, Bryce, is you.”
Chapter Thirty–Five
Marjorie
