by Rhea Regale
Jackson closed his door as quietly as possible and shoved his hands into his coat pockets. He started his trek across the unmarred land, following the path of Rylan’s boot treads. He found his friend in the newer section, his dark silhouette stationed in front of a large black marble headstone. Jackson came up short. He rounded a nearby tree and leaned against the trunk, relinquishing his original plan to approach his friend. He watched for a long while, unable to hear the words Rylan spoke. His friend played with a small object caught between his fingers. When he turned it a particular way, the sun reflected off the diamond and gold.
“Still carryin’ that ring,” Jackson whispered. The man put on a great show for the town, but here alone among the rows and rows of icy markings and the hollow and empty silence, he unraveled. The strong, steely man couldn’t hide the big heart he was given. His tears came silent and shameless.
When Rylan hunched down and traced over the chiseled letters that spelled out Hailey’s name, a dull ache developed in Jackson’s chest. He’d never known love like Rylan and Hailey shared until he crossed Brianna. To find something that special was a gift, one that rarely came along in a lifetime. Count twice, and you were a damn lucky bastard.
It was all the more reason he would offer to share Brianna with Rylan, especially if love could flourish in his friend once more.
Jackson would do anything to give that chance to his closest friend, a man he trusted with his life and the lives of those he cared most about. Rylan was honor and grace in physical form, a man true to his word to a fault. He put pride in the star on his uniform and brought the real meaning of what it was to be a Ryder to this town.
Rylan was a man brimming with passion about everything around him, only now, he fought every instinct to suppress his true nature.
The first fracture of that battle came Friday night, and Jackson hadn’t missed a second of Rylan’s enjoyment with Bree.
Taking a deep breath, Jackson began his approach. When he stood two rows away, he cleared his throat and gazed down the row of undisturbed snow. He gave Rylan the time he needed to dry the tears from his cheeks, hide the ring, and straighten up on his feet before meeting his curious gaze.
“Figured there was a chance I’d find you here,” Jackson said. Rylan continued to stare, his expression carefully schooled. The whites of his eyes were a very light shade of pink, but his unusual amber-brown irises were piercing and alert. Jackson bowed his head toward the headstone. “I wanted to pay my respects, but it’s been so long, I couldn’t remember where…” He sighed, foregoing the distraction. “What happened back at the lodge?”
“Why did you have me come by?” Rylan’s voice strained. He came up to Jackson, leaving his solitude in the tracks at the gravesite. Within moments, Rylan had turned his solemn grief into his everyday façade. “You know I’ll not discuss sellin’ that property.”
“I think that’s for Colt to decide.”
“I think you’ve slacked in your research if you think Colt’s the only one who has a hefty investment in that land and that ranch.” Rylan paused and squared his shoulder to Jackson. “We’re partners. I’m the silent one. I own almost half of that lot, Jax, which means if I’m not willin’ to sell, it ain’t bein’ sold.”
This was definitely game-changing news, not that he had his heart in the game of business. “When did that happen?”
“When Colt asked me to partner up after he started his trend on the circuit. Needed someone here to oversee things. I do what I do best. I enforce the rules and make sure those managers are keepin’ those ranch hands in line.” Rylan shrugged, ducking his head and starting back to his SUV. Jackson took the moment of silence to let everything sink in. He should’ve known Rylan had more interest in the deal than simply protecting family. “That lot your boss’s lookin’ at is grazin’ land. We keep the cattle away from the guest activities, but close enough to round up. Landon takes guests out to the pastures to give them a taste of real cowboyin’. That’s money, Jax. That’s business. You might like your life in the suburbs, but we here in Ryder love our lives without becomin’ some commercialized tourist destination.”
“There’s no point in arguin’ this point, is there?” Jackson assumed. Rylan shook his head. “Bree’s not goin’ to stop tryin’. She feels she needs this promotion to get out from under her mother’s overbearin’ demands.”
“That’s shit for motivation, if you ask me.”
“Not to her.” Jackson leaned up against the side of Rylan’s cruiser, blocking his friend’s driver side door. Rylan rested back against Jackson’s pickup, crossing his ankles and arms. He relaxed on the surface, but the essence of turmoil did not dissipate. “I told her I’d help her make the deal.”
Rylan arched a brow. “You told her. Were your intentions different?”
Jackson looked around, drinking in the rustic beauty of this solemn piece of Ryder. Sure, they might be alongside a cemetery, but even a place layered with sadness held a special kind of beauty.
“Maybe.”
“Oh? Does this have anythin’ to do with why you had me dance with her for almost an hour Friday night? Or maybe why you had me swing by the lodge for no apparent reason?”
Jackson chuckled. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
Rylan snorted and turned his eyes to the sky. “Damn, man. I wasn’t about to leave her alone in a place she wasn’t familiar with while you went off to do god-knows-what.”
“I was sitting by the bar,” Jackson admitted. When the humor died out of Rylan’s face and he leveled his gaze, Jackson’s smirk grew. “I was watching you two the entire time. I noticed a few things that left me wonderin’ if”—he cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes—“you had the opportunity to pursue somethin’ with Bree, would you?”
Rylan stared for a long, tenuous moment. He broke out in laughter and shook his head, pushing off Jackson’s truck. Pointing a finger at him, Rylan said, “Funny, Jax.”
“I’m not laughin’, Ry.” Jackson sidled over, placing his body between the door handle and Rylan’s outstretched hand.
“I’m not discussin’ your girlfriend.”
“How does she make you feel, Rylan? Does she make you feel”— Jackson made a circular motion with his hand—“I don’t know, alive? Does she give you that tinglin’ feelin’ in your gut that makes your cock hard and your thoughts melt?” He leaned close to Rylan, his face inches from his friend’s. The heat of their breaths ignited a thick plume of vapor to rise between them. “Do you think about her, Rylan? I know it kills you to lie, so you’ll be honest with me, right?”
“Jackson Morrell, I will not talk about this.” Rylan tried to get to the door handle. Jackson tsked and blocked his hand. “Jax, move. I need to get back to work.”
“What happened at the lodge?”
“Your girlfriend is willin’ to go toe-to-toe to get a chunk of land, that’s what.”
“She thinks you hate her.”
“Good.” Rylan growled, making another attempt to reach his door handle. Jackson knocked his hand away. “It’s for the best. Now move.”
“Absolutely not, ’cause you don’t hate her. You like her, plain and simple.”
Rylan’s top lip peeled back in a cruel scowl. “My girlfriend, Jax, is lyin’ over there with my heart in her cold hands. I don’t like your woman. I don’t have a cock stand for your woman. And I will not talk about your woman. Got it? This is your last warnin’. Move away from my vehicle.”
Jackson dug his heels into the hard ground. “I’m not movin’ until you tell me the truth, Rylan Ryder. That uniform doesn’t scare me. What does is the man you’re tryin’ to hide when it’s fuckin’ obvious you’re tearin’ apart. And it has nothin’ to do with Hailey, does it?”
Rylan’s face froze, his eyes burning. His gloved hands fisted at his sides.
“Do you like Brianna, Ry? Just answer my question and I’ll move.” Jackson held out a hand to shake on his word. “Promise.”
Rylan eyed
his open palm. He caught Jackson’s hand in a firm grip. “No need.”
One moment, Jackson was certain he’d hear what he wanted to hear come from the lips of his friend. The next, cold metal snapped around his wrist. Rylan yanked him off the cruiser’s door and locked the second cuff around the door handle of Jackson’s passenger door. Jackson gaped, giving the cuffs a tug that yielded no freedom.
Rylan threw open the door of his cruiser and climbed inside. Jackson whipped a hand back, trying to catch the door before Rylan pulled it closed.
“Rylan! Don’t you dare!”
Rylan started the engine and rolled down the window. Jackson’s heart sped up. Rylan wasn’t going to leave him cuffed to his truck in the middle of this uninhabited side of town, was he? Being locked to the driver’s side would’ve allowed him a better chance to drive even if he was cuffed to the exterior handle.
“Don’t fuck with me, Jax. I know you’re up to somethin’. You ain’t gettin’ my land, and neither is your girl. If you bring nothin’ worth a breath back to this town, you might as well pack your shit and get the hell out. This is how any discussion of business will turn out. Wanna talk friends and life, I’ll be your closest pal. I will not stand for you to trample what we’ve built our lives around. Don’t forget, there’s a piece of you in this soil. Never forget where you come from, boy.”
“Rylan, I’m not plannin’ anythin’ with your land. I came here to support Bree in her attempt, but I brought her here more to show her what exists outside of Nashville. Ry! Unlock these damn things!” Panic swelled when he heard gears shift. Rylan spun tires as he reversed at a reckless speed. Jackson pulled at the cuffs and waved his hand at his friend. “Ry! I’ll call her and tell her what you did and you’ll be dealin’ with her face-to-face!”
Rylan peeled ahead, back tires swerving out, kicking up snow and gravel.
“Shit, man.” Jackson scowled, ducking behind the truck to keep from being pelted. He dug out his cell, punched in Brianna’s number, and yelled, “Rylan!”
“Jackson?” Bree answered.
“I need a favor from you, honey.” Jackson kicked at the snow and groaned quietly. “I need you to stop over at the station and have Rylan unlock these cuffs.”
“What? Cuffs?” Brianna gasped. “Who cuffed you?”
Jackson dropped his forehead to the window. “Rylan.”
“Are you kiddin’ me? I thought he was your closest friend. Why’d he cuff you? Where the hell are you?”
The echo of tires crunching over hard ground made him lift his head. He leaned toward the bed of the truck. Brake lights lit up on the SUV as it backed toward the truck faster than Jackson would have felt comfortable going. The vehicle rocked when Rylan jammed on the brakes and popped it into park.
“Oh, uh, hold on honey.” Jackson ignored Brianna’s protests and tucked the phone in his shirt pocket, mouthpiece poking out. He jingled the cuffs as Rylan marched over to him, fingering through keys.
“You’re a fuckin’ jackass, you know that?” Rylan grumbled, snatching his wrist and jabbing a key into the cuff. The metal fell away from his skin and clunked against the truck door. Jackson cringed. Rylan jammed the key into the cuff around the handle and wrenched it open, his frustration evident with every rough motion. “A messed-up, sick and twisted fuckin’ prick.”
“That’s why we’ve always gotten along,” Jackson said, rubbing the side of the truck for any signs of damaged paint. “Knew you’d come back.”
“That’s why you pulled your phone out of your pocket, right?” Rylan asked, tapping his ear. “Caught you in the rearview. You always hide behind your woman?”
“Only when I know you’ll cave.”
“I ain’t cavin’, you ass. I don’t feel like hearin’ you whine about me leavin’ you cuffed to your truck.” Rylan groaned. “Your woman doesn’t deserve to worry.”
“Is that an implied answer to my earlier question?” Rylan lifted the cuffs, arching his brows. The silent threat had Jackson punching his hands deep into his coat pockets. No way was he shaking Rylan’s hand at the moment. “I know a lot of things you can do with those.”
“Next time I cuff you to your truck, I ain’t comin’ back.” He took a step backward then returned to his cruiser. He paused before rounding the hood of his vehicle and called back, “I don’t hate her, Jax. I couldn’t hate her. She’s a special woman, but she’s your woman.”
This time, Jackson waited until Rylan’s brake lights were out of sight before pulling his phone from his shirt pocket and lifting it to his ear.
“Bree, you still there?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered. The hint of uncertainty in that single word brought a small grin to his mouth.
“I hope that’ll put your mind at ease, honey. Rylan doesn’t hate you.” He started to the driver’s side of the truck. “He wants you.”
* * * *
Brianna wrung her hands together, not sure what was going to happen once Jackson stepped through that door. She sat on the corner of the bed, the muscles along her shoulders tense and her stomach a flip-flopping mess. The healing scars on her belly gave off a subtle ache every few minutes.
“Why did I let him convince me to stay here?” she asked the empty cabin. She replayed the conversation she had overheard earlier. The words exchanged between the two men didn’t convince her of anything. It was the tone of Rylan’s voice, that distant yearning in his last few words before Jackson returned to his phone call that left her mind whirling with thoughts and doubts.
“He wants you.”
Hot hell, that single confirmation left her distracted for the rest of her visit with Colton’s mother, which had earned her a concerned prodding of questions from the pleasant woman.
Then, her relief and excitement changed to curiosity. Was this what Jackson wanted her to think about? Was he planning on leaving her?
“Please, no.”
The rumbling of Jackson’s truck approached this desolate cabin in the middle of nowhere. Had she not been so worried sick over what was about to transpire, she might’ve found the place cozy and very much to her liking. Unfortunately, she located the bathroom and made sure she had enough time to reach the toilet if the churning of her stomach turned into something more violent.
That floor-vibrating rumble silenced. A series of clicks and clunks followed then the prominent sound of steps across the narrow balcony. Brianna sucked in a weak breath between her teeth, eyes glued to the doorknob. She rose to her feet, swaying slightly as the lock on the doorknob turned. The door creaked away from the frame, paused, and finally flung open.
“Hey, honey,” Jackson greeted, an overnight bag in one hand, a brown paper bag in his opposite arm. He toed the door shut behind him and hoisted the duffle onto one of the two chairs in front of the cold fireplace.
Brianna’s tongue stuck in its severe dryness. She tried to moisten her lips. The churning in her stomach threatened to upgrade to heaving status. “Are you plannin’ on leavin’ me, Jackson?”
Jackson dropped the paper bag on the counter, grabbed the edge, and looked back at her. His dark brows came together in a deep crease. “What?”
Brianna took a single step away from the bed. “Are you leavin’ me? Are you breakin’ up with me?”
Slowly, Jackson turned around, shifting his grip on the edge of the counter. The confusion swirling in his eyes was as genuine and raw as she believed his love for her.
“Um, I wasn’t plannin’ on it?” he replied with a question. The air grew heavy, unexpended energy pulsing along unseen waves that bound them together. Jackson rubbed his jaw and pressed off the counter. “What would make you assume somethin’ like that?”
Her shoulders sank with the onset of relief. There was still more her darling boyfriend needed to explain to make her entirely certain he wouldn’t leave her heart in pieces.
“Okay. That’s good to know.” She avoided his pinning gaze as he crossed the small section of cabin to stand before her. He comb
ed her hair from her face and tipped her head back, forcing her to look up at him. “It’s just that you’ve been pressin’ the thought of Rylan on me.”
“Ahh, now we’re gettin’ to the root of the problem. Brianna Cabot, know one thing. I have no intentions of leavin’ you. I love you, and my love continues to grow every day.” Jackson traced her upper lip with the tip of his pointer finger. His eyelids dipped, as did his voice. “But can you stand here and look me in the eye and tell me that you haven’t developed feelin’s for Rylan? After all, he saved your life. There’s definitely a connection there.”
Brianna shuffled away from Jackson. His signature smile fell over his mouth. She shook her head with vigor, her lips moving to speak. Short sounds came out, nothing intelligible. She sealed her lips, yanked in the surprise his question caused, and said, “He’s been nothin’ but rude to me.”
His bottom lip pushed out. His shoulders lifted in a deliberate shrug. He didn’t buy her lame retort, and the way he stalked closer to her again, each step predatory, each move precise, told her so.
“He’s protective of his family’s property. Remember, he cuffed me to my truck a few hours ago. I’d like to compare him to a lion protectin’ his den.” Jackson cornered her against the wall. He trapped her, one hand braced beside her head, one knee between her own. He drew the back of his knuckles along her collarbone. “Maybe if I divulge you in this idea I have, you’ll be more open to discussin’ your feelin’s with me?”
“I don’t have feelin’s for him. I have feelin’s for you.”
His fingers dipped below the V of her sweater, teasing her cleavage. The churning of her stomach melted into a coiling delight. She grabbed his shoulders in hopes of grounding herself before she fell into his seduction without resolving these issues.
“Shame. I was thinkin’ about tryin’ somethin’ a little edgy.” His fingers moved down the front of her sweater. “Excitin’.”
