I even drove this truck out to LA to see her, to see what her dream was, what she wanted for her life that didn’t include me. After I found her, saw how happy she was, I brought this truck back home.
Pulling up to the gate, I try to shake off all of the bad memories and the good. Climbing out of the truck, I make my way over to her. I’m wearing my sunglasses and an old dirty ball cap that I threw on, along with dirty jeans and a dirtier navy-blue t-shirt. I’m sure that I look absolutely nothing like the men she’s used to, and I’m not sure why I even care—I shouldn’t.
“Stevie,” I murmur as I make my way toward her.
She’s dressed in tight-fitting jeans and a silky-looking button-up blouse, her blonde hair is pulled up into a high ponytail with large framed sunglasses pointed directly at me.
“I wasn’t sure if you were home, you have this place pretty locked up,” she points out.
Jerking my chin toward the gate, I walk past her, inhaling too deeply and getting a whiff of her expensive, sexy as fuck, perfume. Reaching for the padlock, I tug on it and unwind the chain.
“Ain’t locked,” I mutter. “Mostly just to keep the animals inside.”
“Can I talk to you, not out here in the heat?” she asks, her voice sounding unsure.
Turning to look back at her from over my shoulder, I watch for a moment before I answer her. “Can’t take that car down the road,” I state.
“Why?”
Pushing the gate open, I jerk my chin toward the truck as I walk to the driver’s side. “I don’t maintain it, you’ll fuck the whole underside of the car up, probably get it stuck. Jump in, I’ll drive you down there. I gotta get this shit unloaded and the sunlight’s wastin’.”
Climbing into the pickup, I shift it into gear as I wait for her to get inside. I try not to watch her, but I fail. Shifting my gaze to the side, but I keep my head facing forward as she climbs up inside.
Used to be that she would slide toward the middle and sit right next to me, she doesn’t, and she probably never will again. I miss it, the feel of a soft body next to my own as I drive down the road. The way her hand would rest on my thigh and her head on my shoulder.
Fuck.
I don’t need to think about that shit. It was a lifetime ago, and it isn’t going to happen again, it’s a chapter closed and done.
Pulling through the gate, I shift the truck into park and jump out, closing the gate behind me and chaining it before I get back inside of the pickup, back inside where I can smell her perfume and even her goddamn shampoo.
“I can’t believe you still have this thing and that it still runs,” Stephanie says as soon as I start to drive forward.
I take the road slower than I usually would, not just for Stevie’s sake, but also because of the lumber I have in the back, at least that’s what I tell myself.
“My daddy’s truck, Stevie. I wouldn’t ever get rid of it,” I state.
She’s quiet for a moment. “How are your parents?”
I almost snort, but I decide to curb my dickheadedness for the moment. “Dad died about ten years ago, Mama followed him two months later. Guess she didn’t want to be without him, can’t say I blame her, they’d been together since they were eleven years old.”
“They were young,” she breathes.
“Forty-three years old,” I say, trying not to get choked up.
I miss my parents, for their faults, which they each had, they were good people. They gave me more love than I probably deserved at times. They loved each other, and they tried their damnedest to love their neighbors.
“How’d it happen?”
I want to deny her the knowledge, she doesn’t fucking deserve to know, but I’m not that big of a dick. Well, I am, but I don’t feel like being one today for whatever reason. Pulling the truck up to the side of the barn, I shift it into park and turn to face her, leaving my wrist on the steering wheel, my hand dangling down.
“Cancer took my dad. Mama was just brokenhearted and tired.”
Stephanie reaches out, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry, Ford, I really am.”
Nodding, I close my eyes for a moment, reopening them to look at her. “What’re you doin’ here, Stevie?”
“I wanted to talk to you. I, it’s been so long and there’s a lot that was left unsaid between us,” she whispers.
“Here in Gallup, what’re you doing here in Gallup?”
She licks her lips, her hand still on mine, searing my goddamn skin with her touch. Those big blue eyes that I once knew so goddamn well that I could read every fucking thought in her head, or at least I thought that I could, stare back at me.
“My father died a few months ago. I didn’t know he still owned the house here, not until the lawyer started going through his papers with me. I didn’t think that I should just sell it as is, he kept it for a reason. I figured I should go through it, make sure there wasn’t anything important inside.”
“You been in there, yet?” I ask.
She shakes her head, her hand falling from mine as she shifts her gaze to looking out the front windshield of the pickup. I lick my bottom lip, watching her, wishing she weren’t so close and yet, hoping she gets closer.
“How’d he pass?”
“Cancer,” she whispers.
“Your mama?”
“Heart attack five years ago.”
“Seems we got that in common. Only children with no parents,” I point out.
She nods, then turns to face me. Her eyes are watery, but her tears don’t fall. She blinks them away, then she gives me that beautiful fucking smile that I’ve dreamt about for seventeen years and never thought that I would see in person again. It’s just as breathtaking as I remember.
“Seems we do. What do you want to talk about? Sun’s high and I got a back fence to mend. My busy season’s approaching, I need to get that done before it’s here.”
She inhales a breath through her nose, her eyes finding mine. “I’m sorry.”
Arching a brow, I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. She just watches me, waiting for me to respond.
Unfuckingbelievable.
That’s what she is.
Shaking my head, I turn toward the door, pushing it open and jumping out. Ignoring her, I make my way toward the back of the truck and grab an armful of lumber, carrying it over to my Gator and start to load it up.
Chapter Six
STEPHANIE
Ford doesn’t respond to my apology. In fact, he completely ignores my words and climbs out of the truck, slamming the door behind him. He actually goes about his business like I’m not even here, the asshole.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I pull the handle of the door and push it open before I slide down, careful not to fall on my ass in my high-heeled booties. I’d forgotten what it was really like here, that sky-high heels are more of a hazard than fashionable.
“Excuse me,” I call out as I march toward him with as much sass as I can muster without falling flat on my ass.
Ford doesn’t stop what he’s doing as he breezes past me to grab another load of wood and carry it over to his ATV thing.
“I’m talking to you,” I snap.
He drops his load of wood, looking over his shoulder at me, his lips thinning into a line as he presses them together.
“Everyone always drops what they’re doing when you talk to them these days?” he asks.
Growling, I stomp my foot like a little kid. “There was a time when you did, that’s for certain,” I point out.
He snorts, straightening as he turns toward me, placing his hand on his hip. My eyes travel down to those lean hips, the way his jeans hug his thick thighs. I can’t stop myself from licking my lips at the sight. Tree trunks, that’s what they look like, I can’t deny that I wonder what kind of power they hold, what kind of power his entire muscular body holds.
“Keep looking at me like that, Stevie, and I’ll do a lot more to you then that fuck did in those pictures that
are everywhere.”
My eyes fly up to meet his, my lips part and I let out a gasp. “You didn’t just say that to me. How did you see those?” I whisper.
Shaking his head, he smirks. “You think we don’t have internet out here? WiFi?” he asks.
“I just. God, did everyone see?” I moan, thinking of the party yesterday and wondering if they all saw my breasts in clear focus.
Ford chuckles, though it lacks actual humor and sounds more bitter. “Yeah, Stevie. Beau’s the one who told me to look it up. Must say, the new hardware is fuckin’ beautiful, honey.”
The goosebumps that appear on my flesh, the wave of desire that shimmies up and down my spine shouldn’t be there. His words are almost vulgar, they’re definitely not nice, and totally ungentlemanly.
“You’re not the gentleman you once were, Ford Matthews,” I hiss.
Ford lets out a loud guffaw. “I’m not. You ain’t the sweet girl you once were either, Stevie. Seems we’ve both changed. You ready to tell me what the fuck you want to talk to me about, so I can get my work done for the day?”
Licking my lips, I press them together before I roll them, trying to think about exactly how I want to word what I want to say to him. I’ve thought about this moment for years, and I never imagined it would be like this, or that it would be this hard.
“God, you’re an asshole,” I point out. He smirks but doesn’t reply. “I’m sorry.”
“So you said.”
“Oh, you heard me and you just chose to ignore me?” I ask.
He shrugs a shoulder and I watch as he lifts his hand, grabbing a hold of the bill of his hat and readjusting it on his head, the move far sexier than it should be, especially as his bicep flexes. God, why does he have to be the sexiest thing I’ve seen on two legs in years?
My ex-fiancé was handsome, but he was pretty. So pretty that he had a longer morning and evening regime than I did. Plus, his bills to the spa tripled mine. He also couldn’t keep his dick to himself, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he took those pictures with a hidden camera and sold them just for publicity.
There is no way paparazzi had cameras that could be that clear from as far away as they had to be. Those pictures were taken in his house. In his bedroom, with the curtains closed.
“Yeah, I did. Not sure what you’re sorry for,” he says with a shrug.
Grinding my jaw together, I shake my head. “Are you being serious right now? You’re going to make me tell you, in detail?”
Ford crosses his arms over his broad chest, his muscles stretching and bulging under his shirt, and the Texas heat gets at least twenty degrees hotter just with that one damn move.
“I am. Because, Stevie, I believe I deserve at least that much.”
“It was seventeen years ago, Ford,” I whisper.
He shakes his head once, his eyes lowering to the ground, and I watch as he spits into the dirt before he lifts his gaze up to meet my own.
“Yeah? Seems like it was fuckin’ yesterday I stood not too far from here and watched you turn tail and fucking sprint from me. You were my best friend. The only girl I ever kissed, the only girl I ever loved, and you fucking ran. Then, you refused to see me again, to explain why. So, yeah, I think I deserve a fucking hell of a lot more than a piss poor sorry.”
Without another word, he turns his back to me, and I watch his booted feet stomp into the barn. Closing my eyes, I’m unable to stop the few tears that fall down my cheeks.
He’s right.
Every single word he’s said to me is one hundred percent correct, and I feel like the biggest bitch on the planet. How could I have done that to him? How? I was eighteen, but that’s no excuse for my selfish behavior. I wasn’t raised to be like that, how could I have been so damn selfish?
“You wanna talk to me while I’m muckin’ out these stalls, or are you gonna stand there and get sunburned?” he calls out.
My feet immediately move forward, without even thinking about it, I make my way into the barn. Memories by the thousands assault me as soon as the scent of hay, wood, and leather hit my senses.
I think about the thousands of times I stepped into this exact barn, saddled up one of the horses, or climbed up behind Ford on his and we would ride.
I loved it.
I loved every second of being on this ranch, of being with him here, in his element, in the place that I knew he loved more than anything else on earth. I couldn’t make him leave this ranch, his home. I couldn’t make him give up any of this for me and my dreams. I just couldn’t bear it.
FORD
Sorry.
I fucking hate that pitiful excuse of an apology. I deserve more than that, our relationship deserves more than that.
We weren’t just acquaintances.
Stevie was my everything.
She was the woman I had planned on spending the rest of my life with, the woman that was supposed to carry my children and spend her entire goddamn life with me, by my side.
I’m sorry.
Fuck that shit.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispers from the entrance of the barn.
She’s only a foot inside, shifting from fancy shoe to fancy shoe, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle as she looks down at the dirt. Clearing my throat, I start to muck out Starlight’s stall. I don’t really need to, but I can’t stand there and look at her, I just fucking can’t.
“Then I don’t know why you drove all the way out here, babe.”
She lets out a small growl and I can’t help but tip my lips up in a small smile. “I wanted more than Gallup, Texas could offer me,” she shouts.
“Finally, there’s somethin’,” I say as I continue to work.
“I wanted the bright lights, Ford. I wanted to be famous.”
“Looks like you got everything you wanted,” I point out.
There’s a moment of silence and I hear her sniffle. I hate that she’s crying, never could stand it, but it’s not my job to comfort her anymore. She took that away from me, along with everything else that has to do with her.
“Yeah, at what expense?”
Standing, I wrap my hands around the handle of the shovel and rest my chin on them as I look at her. I don’t just look at her, but I peer deeply into her. Her blue eyes are dull, her face thin and solemn. It doesn’t look like she’s really smiled much in years. I’m getting laugh lines from my antics with the guys, their kids, and being their friend. I don’t think she has that.
“You’ll have to tell me that, Stevie,” I say softly.
She nods. “I lost you, too. I chased my dreams and I got exactly what I wanted.”
“Yeah?”
She nods again. “I’m famous. I’m also alone. I can’t truly trust anyone. I’m thirty-four years old and I don’t have a husband or children. I’m lonely. I’m unhappy in my personal life, but I have everything I ever wanted.”
Inhaling deeply, I let her words wash over me. I feel the same fucking way—exactly. If I tell her that, then that’ll release some of her burden and I’m not sure I want that, yet. Sure, that makes me a big fucking jackass, but I’m not sure I care that much. I’ve had seventeen years of hurt building up inside of me and I can’t let her off that easy, I just can’t.
“Guess all that glitters isn’t always gold.”
I watch as she takes a hesitant step toward me, but only one before she stops. “I know there’s nothing that I can do to make up for the past, but do you think that you could ever forgive me?”
Shaking my head once, I want to tell her no, but even as angry and hurt as I am, not even I could make her feel that shitty. Clearing my throat, I take a step back and let out a sigh.
“We were young, Stevie. It hurt like hell, I can’t lie about that. I was angry for a long time, still am sometimes, but it’s the past. I can’t sit here and dwell on it the rest of my life. You did what you did, and that’s that. You wanted something different than me, and I can’t blame you for wanting out of Gallup. You alwa
ys were the biggest, brightest star in this place.”
“Ford,” she hiccups.
“I understand why you did it. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive it and I know I’ll never forget it, but I can understand it.”
“If I could go back…” Her words trail off, and I shake my head.
“Don’t,” I grunt. “Just don’t. I think about the past enough as it is, I can’t think about if we could go back. Because I would do about a million things differently and I can’t think about it.”
“Why?”
I hold my breath as she makes her way toward me. She fucking glides on those high-as-fuck heels, stopping right in front of me. My entire body freezes, every muscle tenses when her palm touches my chest.
Flicking my gaze down to her hand, I lift it back to meet hers as I lick my lips. I can taste the salt from my sweat on my lips and I’m sure I stink to high heaven, but I can’t push her away, not when she’s this goddamn close.
“Why?” I rasp.
“Why would you go back, what would you change?”
Dipping my chin, my face is so close to hers, but thank fuck the bill of my hat keeps me from touching my mouth to hers.
“I would keep you, Stephanie. I would chase your sweet ass down. I would keep you for myself, however that looked, I would figure it out, and I would keep you,” I shamelessly admit.
“Cowboy,” she breathes.
I close my eyes. Pain radiates throughout my entire body at her one simple word. Cowboy. I was that too, her cowboy. It was what she called me, her sweet name for me, and I loved every single time she said it.
“It doesn’t matter now. It’s been too long,” I say quietly.
She hums, her hand slowly sliding up the center of my chest until her fingers wrap around the side of my neck. Tilting my head to the side, I brush my lips across hers. Fuck, does she taste sweet, like fucking sugar.
“Has it?” she whispers.
COWBOY (Unfit Hero Book 5) Page 5
