And the Winner Is

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And the Winner Is Page 9

by Olivia Jaymes


  “Paid him off?” Ryan scoffed. “I would have scared him off. Maybe a few broken bones might have cleared up his confusion as to how to treat a woman.”

  “Tyler and his friends wanted to do that but Billie and I put a stop to that immediately. Can you imagine the press? No, this was better. He’s never tried to contact me since I left so I think he’s done and moved on. The only thing I worry about is him talking to the press or something equally humiliating, but I’m guessing Tyler took care of that as well.”

  “What a low life piece of scum. I’d like just five minutes in a room alone with him.”

  That made Sierra laugh and he looked shocked when she did. “You’d have to wait in line behind Tyler, Sam, Nate, Max, and my sister Billie, who might just fight dirtier than all of them put together. I doubt there’d be much left of him by the time you got your turn.”

  He shook his head, his expression puzzled. “Aren’t you angry? Don’t you want revenge?”

  Sierra was no saint. She’d often thought about many scenarios in which Brian was paid back in spades for his behavior. But she’d also learned that being the one to dish it out wasn’t going to be as satisfying as she imagined. It was best to let karma sort him out.

  “Wanting revenge leaves me tied to him,” she explained. “It means he still has power over me and that’s something he’s never going to have again. He doesn’t get to mess with my emotions or my happiness anymore. I’ve blessed and released the mistakes I made in the past and I’m moving forward with my life. I just don’t want to be angry. His life sucks and frankly, I don’t feel badly about that. My decisions might not have been the best but his were far worse. He’s reaping what he sowed, and I don’t want to give him any more space in my head. He won’t live there rent free.”

  “You didn’t make any mistakes, he did.”

  She studied his features, looking for even a sign of disdain but seeing none. How about that?

  “Many people would judge me for not leaving earlier, for staying. It was only when I thought I was dying that I found the strength to leave.” She took a deep breath, admitting it was almost physically painful. Her chest felt too tight for her body. “I was to the point that I didn’t think I was worth anything. Self-esteem? I had none. I was convinced that what he did was all my fault. That I brought it on myself.”

  He seemed to digest her words, his gaze skittering away before coming back to rest on her face. “And the first time it happened?”

  She remembered it well. Too well.

  “He cried and said he was sorry. He said it would never happen again. I wanted to be loved so badly after my shitty childhood that I believed him. I gave him a second chance.”

  “What did he do to you? That last time?” The question came out low, Ryan’s voice barely audible. “How did he hurt you?”

  Easy question. She knew her medical records like the back of her hand.

  “Broken arm, concussion, twisted neck and back, tons of bruises and cuts. I had a nasty black eye but at least that last time he didn’t break my nose.” She touched the bridge of her nose. “Billie and Tyler paid for the surgery to repair it. I could barely breathe through it and I snored like a freight train.”

  Then she reached around to the back of her head, underneath her hair. “I have a permanent bald spot back here where he dragged me by my hair once. It won’t grow back but it’s small and my hair is thick so it’s no big deal.”

  “Scars?”

  Ryan sounded like someone had punched him in the gut and then did an upper cut to the throat. He certainly wasn’t going to go easy on himself and by God it felt good to tell someone. Sure, Billie, Tyler, and her therapist knew, but this was different. It really was throwing off those final shackles.

  “I have a few but he was careful most of the time to hit me where it wouldn’t show. It was only toward the end that he got sloppy.”

  His hands were clenched into fists, the knuckles white. “Now I want to kill him more than ever. That he hurt you like that–”

  He broke off, clearing his throat several times before continuing. “He’s not a man, someone like him. He’s worse than an animal. He better hope he never comes near you because I will wait in line and take my turn.”

  She didn’t need him to fight her battles but it felt wonderful that he wanted to. She had friends and family now. She wasn’t alone.

  “He isn’t worth it,” she replied simply. “He’s a waste of skin. Billie said that he ought to apologize to the trees that are working tirelessly to provide him with clean oxygen to breathe. His life sucks and he wastes every day of that precious gift being a total jerk to everyone around him.”

  “It’s not justice,” Ryan growled. “He should be in prison.”

  “That’s not how the system works and I had to make peace with that a long time ago. I suggest you do the same.”

  He shook his head, the frown back on his face. “How can you be so calm? So…forgiving?”

  He didn’t understand but then most didn’t. “I don’t forgive him. But I forgave myself, Ryan. I want to be happy. I want to have fun and live my life to its fullest. I almost didn’t get to do that. Holding on to anger and pain just chips away at the joy in myself. But I didn’t get here on my own, I had a lot of help. I’ve been in therapy and that’s made a huge difference.”

  “That’s good.” Ryan shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t know much about therapy. How did it help you?”

  “I’m not ashamed anymore.”

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he said quickly. “Not a thing.”

  I didn’t always know that.

  “I know. That’s why I told you.” She’d done the right thing, telling him. A weight was lifted from her shoulders and she felt lighter somehow. She didn’t have to tell everyone she met about her past and honestly, she didn’t plan to, but she didn’t have to pretend either when she allowed someone into her circle of friends. “Now how about we wrangle up some breakfast? I bet you’re starving.”

  Time to put the past away. She’d told him and now she wanted to simply live her life. And until the lights came back on, she was content to live it with Ryan.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Ryan was a workaholic and rarely took any downtime for himself but if he could sit in this hot bathtub with Sierra more often he might be persuaded. He’d been shocked and delighted when Sierra had told him that the water heater ran off of natural gas. They might not have heat but they had hot water. Of course, he probably still would have frozen to death all alone next door because he would have been too stupid to check.

  His fingers trailed down her damp arm and then her thigh, the skin satin soft but the muscles underneath firm and taut. It was such a contradiction and it fascinated him, making him want to explore every inch of her body here in this candlelit bathroom. It was frustrating that he couldn’t get a good look at her in the bright light of day.

  “I’ve told you my life story,” she murmured, cuddling deeper into his arms. Neither one of them wanted to get out of the warm tub. The air was freezing this far away from the fireplace. “I want to hear more about your life. Do you like being a director?”

  “I love it. I was a lousy actor, something you’ll realize if you watch any of those movies.”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute. I bet you were a great actor.”

  He shook his head, remembering back when he first went to Hollywood. “No, I sucked. Really badly. I couldn’t seem to get out of my own head and into the character’s. I was always looking around at the other actors and what was happening technically.”

  A delicately arched brow rose. “I’m definitely going to rent those films. They can’t possibly be as bad as you say.”

  “Nothing good can come from that,” he warned with a chuckle. “Besides, you’d have to watch an entire two-hour film to see me for ten minutes. I wasn’t actually Jack Nicholson.”

  She turned back around with a sigh, and again rested her head on his chest. “Is tha
t your idol?”

  “He’s one of them. I like Pacino and DeNiro too.”

  “Everyone likes Pacino and DeNiro.”

  That was true. It was almost a cliché.

  “What about you? Are you a Meryl Streep fan?”

  “Of course. She was amazing in The Devil Wears Prada, but we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you.”

  “I liked that movie, too.”

  He was just playing with her and he got a dig in the ribs with her elbow as a reply. Damn, she had pointy elbows.

  “So what else do you want to do? You’ve won an Oscar. That’s pretty much the pinnacle of this business, right?”

  His laughter dislodged her head, which made her scowl up at him. “Are you saying that I’ve peaked, babe, and it’s only downhill from here? Jesus, I hope not. I have big plans for the future.”

  “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. What are these big plans?”

  He’d never told a single soul about all the items on his crazy director bucket list, but she’d revealed her painful past honestly, so it felt like he should admit to his own somewhat insane future. Not that anything on the list was sure to happen. It was a list and so far he’d been able to mark off several items but there were so many more. He’d have to live to be a hundred and ten to do them all. And that was just his career list. His personal bucket list was completely different. Sadly, he’d only marked a few off of that one. Too busy working.

  “The main one is that I want to make a movie in every country on the planet.” That didn’t come out right. “Wait, that’s not exactly right. I want to film in every country but it can be for multiple movies.”

  She didn’t laugh which was a point in her favor. “So a scene in Paris, and another in Rome? That sounds like fun but exhausting.”

  “Anything worth doing is going to be work. At least that’s what my dad told me when I was a lazy-ass teenager and didn’t want to mow the lawn.”

  “What else did he tell you?”

  That question made Ryan laugh again. His father’s advice had usually turned out to be excellent but as a youth it hadn’t always been understood or appreciated.

  “He told me that I shouldn’t work too hard to figure out women. It was more fun for them to be a mystery.”

  “Was he right?”

  “At the time I thought he was crazy,” Ryan remembered, a grin on his face. “But I think that he was on to something there. Just enjoy the ride, so to speak. Men and women are different and there’s no reason to bang my head against the wall trying to figure out why.”

  Her soft giggle made his heart squeeze in his chest. He liked her far too much.

  “What other advice did he have?”

  “Work hard whether I get rewarded or not. Always be the first one in to work and the last to leave. I still do that when I’m making a picture. Respect women and don’t make them cry. Buy them flowers. Take a shower and don’t be the smelly kid in school. That’s one of my favorites.”

  “Words to live by,” Sierra said solemnly but her lips were twitching with mirth. “Your father was a wise man. Did he ever give any advice about shoes?”

  He didn’t think she was serious but Ryan searched his mind anyway. It would be funny if the family patriarch had given him such advice.

  “I can’t think of any but he was a loafers kind of guy with bare feet on the weekends. He used to take me to the beach all of the time. He was a surfer and he taught me, too. He taught all of us actually.”

  “Did your mom go, too?”

  “Sometimes. She was really good but I think she enjoyed the peace and quiet of the house when we were all out of it. Later when we got to be teenagers she went with us all of the time. I think because she didn’t see us as much.”

  Ryan wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to discuss his happy family life with Sierra. She’d never experienced anything like that and he didn’t want her to feel…badly. He didn’t want to bring up crappy memories of the past.

  She didn’t seem bothered, however, a smile curving her full lips. Lips made for kissing and doing other naughty stuff. His cock stirred to life at the thought of what they’d been doing just prior to taking this bath.

  Twisting around, Sierra stared up at him in shock. “Are you kidding? You’re getting a stiffie from thinking about surfing?”

  Laughter bubbled from his lips at her outrage. This woman was completely adorable. She made him crack up at the strangest things.

  “No, babe. I was actually pondering the dirty things we were doing to one another before we got in the tub. It wasn’t surfing, although I love it. I just don’t love it that much.”

  “Oh. That was kind of fun.”

  He pretended to be hurt, his lower lip sticking out. “Only kind of? I’m wounded.”

  She turned so that she was on her knees between his legs, facing him. Her hands ran down his torso, lingering on the quivering muscles of his abs. “Wounded, huh? Where? I’ll kiss it better.”

  There was merriment in her expression, a devilish gleam that always turned out well for him. If she wanted to play games, he’d happily join in.

  “Right about where your hands are…actually a little lower.”

  “If I kiss that spot better, I’ll drown. Maybe we should get out of the tub and take this search mission back to the fireplace.”

  The water was cooling off.

  Ryan heaved himself out of the tub, his arousal impossible to hide. If she didn’t know how much he wanted her before, she did now.

  “Let me get a towel and I’ll dry you off.” He pointed to his cock. “Just so we’re clear, the spot is right here.”

  Sierra’s kiss would make it all better.

  * * *

  When the lights came on hours later, both Sierra and Ryan were dozing in front of the fire, exhausted from a day of sex, fun, and junk food. They’d read to each other, they’d played strip poker, they’d even stuck their heads out of the house for a few minutes to see the ice beginning to melt. The temperature had risen steadily all day and by mid-afternoon was in the comfortable mid-forties.

  Clearly, she hadn’t thought ahead because everything that she had on when the power went out came back to life all at once. Loud and bright. The lamps clicked on along with the kitchen light, and the blast of sound from the television had them both practically jumping from their warm nest of blankets.

  Ryan rubbed at his face, still groggy. “I guess the power is back on.”

  It was an obvious statement but they were a little out of it. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and groaned. “I guess it is. I better check the thermostat. I turned it up before the ice storm to get the house good and toasty in case the power went out.”

  “Might as well leave it for a little while,” Ryan replied, levering up and stretching, the covers falling around his waist to reveal bare skin that she had thoroughly explored earlier. “It’ll warm up faster. You can turn it down later.”

  She was already standing, a blanket wrapped around her naked body. “I want to check everything anyway. I’ll be right back.”

  First job was to turn the television to the local news, which was all video of the town covered in ice and cars sliding off of the road and into ditches. According to the annoyingly perky reporter, about fifty percent of the town still didn’t have power but most should by morning. The more rural areas would take longer.

  Sierra fussed with the thermostat and then went into the kitchen. The refrigerator was humming and that was good news. She’d have to toss pretty much everything but luckily she didn’t keep much food in the house. Grabbing two bottles of water, she rejoined Ryan in the living room. He’d put on his sweat pants and stoked up the fire.

  He was halfway to dressed. Their interlude was over. The temperature had risen, the ice was melting, and the power was back on. Reality had returned and their own little world was disappearing at a rapid rate.

  It was never real. It was only a momentary fantasy.

  “Anything inte
resting on the news?”

  He turned at the sound of her voice. “Just a lot of people out driving that shouldn’t be. I’m a California boy but even I know that you can’t operate a motor vehicle on a sheet of ice.”

  The news was showing a car sliding into a parked truck on a residential street, then the car did a one-eighty and took out a mailbox and a garden gnome.

  “I just like to think that people are overly optimistic and not stupid.”

  He dragged his t-shirt over his head. “You may be the nicest person I’ve ever met, but you have a point. I read once that something like ninety percent of the population thinks they’re an above average driver. Statistically that’s impossible. Ninety is greater than fifty.”

  “Are you an above average driver?”

  His grin told the story. “Hell, yes.”

  Sierra wasn’t sure what to do now. Ryan had redressed and she was standing around wearing a blanket. Was he going to leave? Did he want to leave? She’d assumed that he’d be around for dinner but now that the lights were on, she wasn’t sure.

  She inched backward slowly toward the bedroom. “I think I’ll go get dressed. Now that the power is back on, I was thinking about making some macaroni and cheese for dinner. You’re welcome to stay if you want. Or whatever.”

  He frowned but nodded. “I’d like that.”

  She would, too. They’d make their little world last a few hours longer and pretend that reality wasn’t storming the gate.

  It was lovely while it lasted.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Sierra was jumpy, nervous and generally distracted. Every now and then while they’d cooked dinner, he’d watched her go off somewhere. Her thoughts were far from this cozy kitchen and the smell of melted cheese. He’d poured them some wine, hoping the alcohol would relax her but she’d barely touched it as they’d eaten dinner. They were both hungry, so conversation had lagged but their plates were clean and their stomachs full. She still hadn’t said much but he could feel the tension and energy pouring off of her. She was practically vibrating in her chair.

 

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