“If you go around forging my signature, yes, Mom. You’ve left me no choice.”
They stood face-to-face, a silent standoff. After a long, tense moment, Janet sniffed and wiped her nose delicately with a tissue. “Well. I didn’t expect to have my heart ripped out and stomped on by my daughter tonight. You’ve cornered me, it seems.”
“I have,” Layla said, oh so calm despite feeling like a million broken pieces inside. “You’ve cornered me, so I’m cornering you back.”
“You’ll have the documents back in the morning—”
Layla sensed victory, and she moved in for the kill. “Oh no,” she said, and produced a pen. “You’re going to sign off on them right now.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
By the time her mother left, it was late and Layla was wiped.
Janet had cried. Of course she had—she believed herself the victim. Layla had been prepared to be hard-hearted to her mother’s tears, but the reality was difficult. She didn’t like to see anyone cry, much less her mother. It didn’t help that Janet went on and on about how it was Layla’s fault, and what a terrible daughter she was, and how this was the thanks she got after doing what she could to survive, and so on and so forth. Her mother was good at painting herself a victim, and no matter how many times Layla pointed out that Janet was the one breaking the law, it always somehow came back to things being Layla’s fault. It was never Janet’s fault.
It was . . . exhausting. Mentally and physically, Layla was wiped. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide for the next few days, until some of the hurting went away. She couldn’t, though. Jack deserved to know what was going on, and she’d promised to come over, so she snuggled a cranky Sterling for a few minutes, scanned copies of the documents, then put on her shoes and got into the car.
When she started to drive, the enormity of the situation hit her.
She’d just destroyed her relationship with her only family. Granted, it wasn’t that Janet was a good person. It wasn’t that Janet was in the right. But now Layla was completely alone. Hot tears poured down her cheeks and made it hard to see, but she kept on driving. Maybe she’d get all the crying out before she got to Jack’s. She’d feel sorry for herself for a little bit, and then get on with her life. Either Janet would understand and get over it, or she wouldn’t, but Layla had made her decision. There was no going back now.
By the time she made it to the Swinging C Ranch and parked her car, she was mostly done with the crying. Flash drive clutched in hand, Layla headed for Jack’s cabin. It was cold and dark outside, the chill February wind biting into her skin. She’d forgotten to wear something heavier than her sweatshirt, and now she regretted it. Oh well. She wasn’t going to stay long. She was just going to give Jack the paperwork and let him make his decision about how he wanted to handle things—how he wanted to handle them—from here. If he didn’t want to speak to her anymore, she would understand. It would hurt, and her heart would be broken, but she wouldn’t blame him. Layla was determined not to pressure him.
Of course, all that determination withered the moment he opened the door. He stood there in an old, faded T-shirt and jeans, his hair rumpled and a five-o’clock shadow on his firm jaw. His eyes warmed at the sight of her and he looked so good and so incredibly appealing that her breath caught.
He looked like home.
All the tears Layla thought were done burst out of her again, and she began to cry even harder.
* * *
* * *
Jack was startled to see Layla show up at his doorstep so late at night. She’d mentioned she’d be coming by late, but he didn’t realize how late until he’d dozed off watching a few late shows, Oscar tucked at his side in bed. He’d woken up to her knocking, and when she burst into tears, his heart clenched.
“Come here,” he told her gruffly. He hated the sight of her tears.
He intended to just pull her inside the warm cabin, but the moment she stepped in and looked so lost and forlorn, he pulled her into his arms instead. Jack tucked Layla against his chest, shutting the door, and then wrapped her in a big hug.
She cried even harder, but clung to him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing her shoulders as she clung to him. “Layla, talk to me.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to compose herself. “I got your money back,” she managed to choke out after several moments.
Of all the things he’d expected to hear, that wasn’t on the list. Jack went still. “What are you talking about?”
Layla pulled out of his grip and swiped at her face with the back of her hand, lifting her glasses to get rid of the wetness underneath. “I met with my mom. I cornered her. Told her I was going to press charges unless she terminated the contract on her end so you could get your money back.” She fumbled in her pocket and produced a zip drive, offering it to him. “Here’s copies for you. The Realtor still has to sign off on a lot of these, but a check should be coming back to you in the next few days. Your Realtor will probably call you about it tomorrow, too.”
He took the drive, staring at it in shock. “You . . . how’d you manage this? I thought you said your mother was determined to go through with the sale.” Jack had been kicking himself for days over everything. He’d seen the amendments to the surveys and had simply assumed it was all on the up-and-up. Layla’s stamp had been all over them and so he hadn’t questioned anything, and now he knew why. Since he’d seen her last, he’d been busy trying to figure out a way to make it work. What did one do with a floodplain? He’d read up on ranches in floodplains online, and the messages had been clear enough: it was a money pit. So he’d tried to think of other things he could do—terraforming the land, or having dirt dumped to build up a barrier. He hadn’t come up with a single solution.
He’d also been worried that he’d have to press charges against Layla’s mother, and how his girlfriend would take that. He was stuck, because he didn’t want to mess things up with Layla. She was more important to him than any land, and if she’d asked him to let her mother get away with it, how could he say no? Then again, how could he say yes if it meant destroying his hopes of having his own place someday?
Jack had been very much stuck.
And Layla, being the fixer she was, had somehow salvaged the situation. He wanted to look at the documents, but right now the crying woman in front of him was a priority. He set the thumb drive down and pulled Layla into his arms again. “Come sit down and tell me everything.”
He steered her toward the edge of the bed, and Oscar immediately crawled forward, tail wagging, and gazed up at Layla with sad eyes. She melted and picked the dog up, holding him tight and patting his belly. “You’re the best boy, Oscar,” she murmured. “I hope Dad’s been taking good care of you.”
“The best. Now spit out the details, Mom.” He put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing her back again. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand, but I’d really like to know.”
She offered him a tremulous little smile. “No, I can talk about it. It’s okay.”
And she began to speak. Layla told him all about how she’d cornered her mother, prepared to file charges against her. How she’d drafted up documentation to donate the land, to get rid of her mother’s company and undo all the damage the woman had caused. Jack was stunned . . . and in awe. Layla had stood up to her mother for him. She’d more or less forced Janet Schmidt to cave in and managed to get his money back and get him out of the land contract. She’d single-handedly salvaged the situation . . . at her own expense.
“You did that for me?” Jack asked, humbled.
She looked up at him, a confused expression on her face. “Of course I did it for you.” She hesitated. “Well, not just for you. I didn’t like that she was doing it in the first place. But when I realized what it meant if she got her way, I couldn’t let it happen.”
“Yes, but she’s your mother.”
“Yeah, well, I love you,” Layla blurted, and then immediately clapped a hand over her mouth. Oscar, startled, began to snarl, and Layla quickly set him down on the bed and jumped to her feet. “I didn’t say that.”
Jack jumped to his feet, too. “You did say that.”
“Oh god.” She began to wring her hands and pace. “Jack, I’m so sorry. I—”
“Hey. Hey.” He grabbed her hands before she could twist them again, forcing her to face him. “Why are you panicking?”
“Because only a crazy person starts declaring love after two weeks?”
“Does it matter if I say I love you, too?”
Layla paused. She blinked up at him. “You’re not just saying that because I got your money back for you?”
Stung, Jack took a step back. “What? No. I knew it from our first date.”
Her jaw dropped. “You what? The horseback-riding date?”
“Why not?” He grinned down at her. She really was so cute. He cupped her face and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “You make me smile. You’re funny. I think you’re gorgeous. The moment I met you, I knew you were the one.”
Layla gave him a skeptical look. “I’m allowed to be head over heels that quickly because I’m a big old virgin who’s never been in a serious relationship. I’m not sure what your excuse is, Jack Watson.”
He threw back his head and laughed, because even now, Layla was giving him shit. He loved it. “Maybe you’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to be serious with.” He reached up and pulled the pencil out of her bun, her hair falling down around her shoulders in glorious dark waves. “The first one that’s made me think I want more than just having a good time.” He ran his fingers through her hair, smiling at her serious expression. “When I saw the land, I couldn’t wait to tell you about it. I couldn’t wait to show you, because your opinion was the one that meant the most to me in the world.”
Her expression fell, and Layla bit her lip. “And I was partially responsible for what a shit show that turned out to be. I should have said something the moment we drove up.”
“You panicked. I get it. When you told me about the floodplain, I panicked, too. But now that I know what happened, I understand. You didn’t really think your mother would do this, did you?”
Layla shook her head, her face pale. “She’s always had schemes going on, some wackadoodle way to try and make a quick buck, but she’s never been so willing to break the law. I guess she figured if it was paperwork, it was a harmless sort of crime.” She bit her lip. “I want to say I can’t believe she broke into my office and stole my stamp, but if I look back with a clearer head, this isn’t the first time she’s stepped all over me to get what she wants. So in a way, it’s good that this came to a head. I just wish it hadn’t happened in such a horrible situation.” She touched Jack’s chest, gazing up at him. “I’m so sorry about the land. I know you had big plans.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth. “I did. But there’ll be other pieces of land for sale. Something will come along. Maybe not right away, but I’m willing to wait.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of her palm, loving the way her eyes lit up at the touch. “I happen to know a really great CPA and CPB who will help me look over the paperwork anytime I like.”
“CPP,” she corrected softly, smiling. “And day or night, your place or mine.”
Damn, he liked how that somehow sounded incredibly dirty. “In a way, I’m glad that it was just the land. When you freaked out on me that day, I thought it was because of something I did. That I’d moved too fast and scared you off.”
Her brows furrowed. “Something you did?”
“Yeah. Like maybe you weren’t into oral sex or something.”
Her face went crimson. “I can assure you that I had zero issues when it came to that. What, like I’m going to get mad that you made me orgasm so hard? If that’s the biggest problem I have, I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”
“Then we’re agreed. You are absolutely the luckiest woman in the world.”
Layla laughed, shaking her head at him. “And you’re the most incorrigible man in the world.”
“Big word. Someday I’ll even ask what that means.”
She giggled harder, the sound so bright and happy that it filled him with relief. He pulled her close, unable to keep his hands off of her. “I much prefer the sound of you laughing,” he murmured softly. “Hate seeing you cry.”
“It’s been a hell of a week,” Layla agreed. “But . . . you and me are okay?”
“You and me are more than okay.” His hands slid to her waist and he leaned over her, moving in for a kiss. “Didn’t I just tell you that I love you, Layla? And I’m pretty sure you said it, too.”
“I’m a neurotic sort. You’ll probably have to tell me at least a half a dozen times before it sinks in.” Her gaze went to his mouth, her lips parting.
“I love you,” he murmured before kissing her again. His lips moved over hers, whisper soft. “I love you. I love you. There. That’ll give you a good head start.”
“Thank you.” She licked her lips, as if wanting to keep the taste of him fresh in her mind. “Where do we go from here?”
“Where would you like to go?” He wanted to kiss her again, but he’d let her decide how to proceed.
She gazed up at him, her hand playing on the front of his T-shirt. “Can I . . . stay the night?”
That . . . was unexpected. “You mean—”
Layla immediately flushed. “I know this sounds very schoolgirlish of me, but I don’t know if I mean that. I just . . . I missed you the last few days and it’s been lonely. I was wondering if we could just be together. Maybe throw some kissing in there.”
He pulled her close and immediately kissed her, hard and fierce. “We can kiss as much as you want to, baby. You sure you want to stay here, though? Won’t your cat be lonely?”
“Not half as lonely as I’ll be if I go home alone.”
“I’ll go with you,” he offered.
“You will?” Layla looked so surprised.
“Of course. You have all the good sports networks.”
An expression of astonishment crossed her face, and then she smacked his chest lightly. “You’re incredibly naughty.”
“And that sounds far too filthy when you say it like that.”
“Maybe I meant for it to sound filthy.” She slid her arms around his neck, giving him a soft look. “Maybe I like kissing you so much that I’m willing to say all kinds of filthy things just to get your lips on mine again.”
“You don’t have to say anything at all,” he murmured. “All you have to do is look at me like that.”
“Like how?”
“Like you are right now.” And he slanted his mouth across hers. Layla let out a little gasp that he swallowed up, and then she moaned as his tongue swept into her mouth. She tasted so sweet, her mouth so perfect against his that he lost track of time. Nothing existed outside of the feel of Layla in his arms, her tongue teasing against his as they kissed.
When he finally broke the kiss, she stumbled a little against him, and he caught her around the waist to steady her.
“That . . . was a really good kiss.”
“You can have as many of them as you want. I have it on good authority that the owner’s a very generous man.”
She chuckled and impulsively flung her arms around him. “Thank you.”
Puzzled, he rubbed her back. “Why are you thanking me?”
“Because when I came here, I wasn’t sure what you’d think. I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to be with me.”
That crazy woman. “I love you, remember?”
“Gonna need to hear it at least . . .” She tapped her chin, pretending to consider. “Four more times.”
He mock-growled at her and pul
led her in close. “How about I just show you instead?”
They didn’t leave for Layla’s place for a good half hour, too busy kissing.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
After a week of sheer hell and worry that she was going to lose everyone important to her, Layla felt positively effervescent. She watched Jack pack an overnight bag of clothing and held Oscar close. He was coming over to her house. To spend the night. Just to be with her because she didn’t want to be alone. Just to hold her.
Because he loved her.
It made Layla want to cry all over again, but it was good crying this time. It was crying of sheer happiness, of disbelief that she was so darn lucky to have Jack. He hadn’t told her that she was a terrible person for threatening the law on family. He’d understood. He’d understood everything and had never doubted her for a moment. She felt . . . awed by him. All her life, Layla had only felt valued for what she could do for other people. Jack loved her for . . . her.
That feeling of awe continued even as they took separate cars back to her place. He had to work early, he explained, and didn’t want to wake her up when he left at four in the morning. It was humbling to think he was making so much room in his life for her, just because she didn’t want to be alone. She really was the luckiest woman alive.
She pulled up to her house and, once inside, some of the giddy feeling left. The stacks of paperwork were still on the dining table, her desk covered with documentation, her mother’s signature visible. It was a sobering reminder of how today had gone.
Layla was more than ready for today to be over. When Jack’s car pulled up behind hers in the driveway, she was even more glad that she’d invited him over. Being around him centered her.
As long as he had her back, nothing else mattered.
* * *
* * *
Even though Jack had been over several times and there had been that one drunk sleepover, he’d never stayed the night like this before, and it made Layla feel a bit shy and awkward. Sure, she was a grown woman, but she’d never been through this particular scenario before. Did she just head straight for bed? Insist on watching some television first until they relaxed, what?
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