Chapter 23
WEST
“I should go.” Indya took a step toward her Defender, but I caught her elbow before she could escape.
“Head inside. I’ll be right behind you.”
“But—”
“We have an owl to discuss. And I’m hungry.”
“I don’t—”
“Inside, Indya.”
She frowned and grumbled something under her breath. It sounded a lot like stubborn ass. But when she brushed past me, she walked toward the house, not her car.
I twisted to watch her disappear inside, the screen door slamming shut, then faced Courtney and arched an eyebrow. “Court.”
“West.” Her smile wobbled, revealing her nerves. “So . . . I’m back.”
“I heard.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“How, um, are you?”
“Not interested in small talk. What do you want?”
She scrunched her nose, something I’d learned in our time together meant she was losing her patience. The yelling would come next.
Followed by tears.
When Courtney wasn’t getting her way, she threw a tantrum.
There’d never been any point in arguing with her. She didn’t know how to argue or debate. It was just . . . drama.
Always fucking drama.
Well, Sunny could deal with her drama. I wanted to go inside and have dinner with Indya, then make sure she got some sleep. I was sick of
seeing those circles under her eyes.
Courtney looked past me to the house and did another nose scrunch.
She had to know that Indya had bought the ranch. And knowing Courtney and how much she thrived on gossip, she’d probably heard that Indya was the most beautiful woman to grace this ranch in decades. And that I’d been spending plenty of time at her side.
Hence this visit.
I’d never really thought about seeing Courtney again. About how it would feel. Maybe it should have bothered me. Maybe I should have been angry or hurt. The day she’d moved out of the house, I’d been both.
But as I reflected on it now, that short pain had been more about the cheating and Dad’s loyalty to her over me. It was my pride that had been
wounded, not really my heart.
I’d convinced myself it was love.
It wasn’t.
The resentment was gone. So was the sting of betrayal from her affair with Sunny.
Now I was just annoyed. I was standing in my bare feet and giving my attention to the wrong woman.
Courtney had always been the wrong woman.
Deep down, I think she knew it too.
I’d never told a soul about Indya. I’d kept her to myself all those years. But Courtney wasn’t stupid. Manipulative, but intelligent. She’d known that my heart wasn’t entirely hers.
Was that why she’d cheated? Did I even care?
No. Not a bit. This visit of hers had already lasted too long.
“Courtney,” I barked. “What?”
Her eyes snapped to mine, narrowing into a glare. “You’re fucking the new owner already. I heard she’s a real b—”
“Do not finish that sentence.”
She was smart enough to shut her mouth.
It would chap Courtney’s ass if she knew I’d been fucking Indya on and off for years. But that was none of her goddamn business. “If you’re not here for a reason, I’m done.”
“I just wanted to check on you.” Courtney’s chin began to quiver.
“See if you’re okay.”
“I’m good.” Surprisingly good considering all that had happened in the past month.
Courtney sniffled and crossed her arms over her chest. “We never
really got closure.”
“We did. The day you left.”
“I’m—”
Sorry. The word she never could bring herself to say was sorry.
“I’m not staying,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “In case
you were worried.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I’m moving.”
“Congratulations.”
“Are you going to ask where I’m moving?”
“No.”
“Sunny and I broke up.”
There it was. The reason for this visit. Attention. Maybe she thought I’d spent years pining for her. Well, she could get attention from anyone
else.
This was a waste of my time.
I’d spent too many years catering to other people. Dad. Courtney.
Even Mom to the extent that I played the go-between for Dad.
I’d picked my battles. I’d bitten my tongue.
No more.
It was time to do what I wanted. And right now, that was eat a meal with Indya, then take her to bed.
Without another word, I turned and stalked away.
Courtney let out a huff when I reached the porch, but I didn’t bother turning back as I walked through the door.
Indya was in the kitchen, staring out the window over the sink to the field beyond the house.
The sack with dinner was on the counter, the handles still tied. I loosened the knot, the plastic rustling as I fished out our containers. Then I carried them to the table off the kitchen.
“What do you want to drink?”
“Water,” she murmured, not moving.
I pulled two glasses from the cabinet and took up the space behind her, my chest pressed firmly against her back as I trapped her in place.
Then I reached past her to turn on the faucet, letting it run cold before I filled the glasses with clean mountain water.
No filter needed.
“I could have left,” she said. “Let you talk.”
“I don’t need to talk to Courtney. Everything has already been said.” I kept the glasses in both hands but tightened my arms, like a hug, and pulled her away from the sink.
She stiffened, not wanting to move her feet.
“Work with me, Keller. Shuffle.”
Indya relaxed and let me pull her away. But even when we weren’t against the counter, I didn’t let her go. “West.”
“Keep shuffling.”
“You’re going to spill that water.”
“Not if you shuffle your damn feet.”
She laughed and shuffled, trapped against me as we made our way toward the table. Only when we reached her chair did I let her go to sit.
I set down our glasses, grabbed napkins and forks, and then joined her, taking the chair across from hers so I could look at her as we talked.
We both popped the lids on our containers, the scent of the meal making my stomach growl. And without any fanfare, we tore into our burgers, eating them while they were still warm. Until Indya broke the
silence.
“My office. Was it hers?”
I swallowed the food in my mouth and shook my head. “It was mine. She took the one Mom used years ago. Then after Courtney left, Tara took it for storage.”
Indya poked at her orzo pasta salad with a tine of her fork. “Oh.”
“That chair you tossed? Courtney gave it to me as a Christmas
present.”
Her eyes widened.
“I hated that fucking chair.” I chuckled. “But I do like the horse
painting. Don’t throw that one out.”
“Your grumpy horse.”
“He’s not grumpy.” I scoffed. “You just don’t recognize him. That’s Chief. I introduced you to him when we were kids.”
Recognition dawned, and a smile ghosted her lips. “Chief.”
“Mom had a local artist paint that for me after he died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Just don’t toss my painting.”
“You should have it. I’ll bring it out.”
“Nah. Keep it in the office. I like that you can keep Chief company every day.” And that he could be there for her too.
I went back to my burger, taking two bites for her every one. Either she didn’t like Reid’s food—doubtful, because it was delicious—or Courtney’s visit had stolen her appetite.
There were questions bouncing in that gorgeous head of hers. They were written on her mesmerizing face. So I ate, knowing she’d ask when she was ready.
And we could have the conversation we should have had years ago.
“Why did you keep working for me?” she asked. “You could have quit like your dad.”
Not the topic I’d expected, but a fair question. “No matter who owns this ranch, it’s still mine. This is all I know. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I couldn’t just walk away. I don’t know how Dad did. Still don’t.
I just . . . couldn’t let it go.”
The ranch.
Maybe Indya too.
“Do you ever wonder—” She stopped herself with a shake of her head. Then she took a bite of burger that was so large her cheeks bulged.
Like if her mouth was full, it would keep that question inside.
Did I ever wonder what we could have been?
Yeah. I’d wondered. So many times I’d lost count.
She swallowed, then chased her food with a gulp of water. “Did you ever look me up on Instagram or Facebook? Before?”
“No.”
During the spans in between the Keller family vacations, I hadn’t let myself search for Indya. No social media. No calls or texts. Indya had always been mine, but only while she was in Montana.
“Why not?”
She was afraid I didn’t want her, wasn’t she? “Self-preservation.”
At its finest.
“What do you mean?”
“I never let myself hope that you’d come back.” Or that she’d stay.
Until now.
Maybe I was safe to finally hope.
“Did you ever look me up?” I asked.
“No.” She shook her head.
“Why not?”
She gave me a sad smile. “I think I was afraid of what I’d find.”
Other women. Another love.
A fiancée.
“Courtney and I went to school together,” I said after taking my last bite and wiping my hands on a napkin. “Since kindergarten.”
Indya stiffened. “We don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to. You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“Maybe not. But I’ll give you one anyway.”
We’d never made promises. We’d always known what we had was limited to a week, sometimes less. That didn’t mean what we’d had wasn’t important.
“Remember that trip when we only had a day? After I came back
from Hawaii?”
“Yes. I remember all the trips.”
“So do I.” I gave her a sad smile, then leaned deep into my chair. “I almost asked if you wanted to try sticking it out. Do the long-distance thing. But every time I played the logistics out in my head, I saw it ending in a wreck.”
“Me too.” There was sadness in those caramel eyes. “But if you would have asked, I would have done it anyway.”
Damn. She’d never hinted at wanting to try. Never mentioned staying together.
It didn’t change anything, knowing she’d wanted that too. But it was another regret.
“That day felt like a goodbye,” I said. “Something about it was different. You left, and I was sure I’d never see you again. Figured you’d graduate, take that job with your dad’s company, and get on with your
life. Actually sort of pissed me off.”
“That I had to finish college?”
“Yeah. How dare you?” I teased.
She smiled a little. If we could end this night with that tiny smile, I’d call it a win.
“That winter, I was at a bar in town. It was cold and snowy. I was bored and got drunk, so I didn’t drive home. Courtney was there, and she let me crash on her couch that night. We started dating on and off for about six months after that. It wasn’t serious. That spring, I got busy with work and stopped seeing her altogether. Summer came. You didn’t.
The next time Courtney called and asked me out for dinner, I said yes.”
We’d dated seriously that time. She was always around. For a while, Courtney made her whole world about me, and it was easy to get wrapped up in that feeling.
She moved to the ranch. Started working at the lodge. It reminded me of my parents, and the nostalgia in that was more powerful than I’d realized at the time. I got wrapped up in that too.
When Courtney started dropping hints about getting married, I picked them up and bought her a ring.
She didn’t even give me the chance to propose. I stashed that ring in my dresser drawer. She snooped and found it. Put it on and started telling the world we were engaged.
We would have gotten engaged, so I went along with it. Then Dad gave her the job as resort manager, and we settled into this life.
I’d gotten swept up in the idea of sharing this ranch with a woman
who loved it.
A woman who didn’t live in Texas.
Indya dropped her eyes to her lap. “We came back.”
She came back.
“I know.”
When I’d learned that the Kellers had returned for a vacation, my whole world had tipped upside down.
Courtney had come home after work. We’d traded tales about our days. And she’d prattled on and on about the guests. She loved gossiping about them, usually to run them down because she was jealous.
She told me she’d met a woman with blonde curly hair from Texas.
I’d been sitting on the couch. If not, that news would have knocked me on my ass.
Courtney had gone on and on about how the Beartooth Chalet was a magnet for snobby rich girls.
Indya Keller didn’t have a snobby bone in her body. Not that I’d said that to Courtney. I had just sat there, stunned, and when I’d finally
mustered the courage to speak, I had taken the coward’s way out.
I had left for the week, camping out in the mountains alone.
Until Indya was gone.
Would things have been different if I could have faced her that year? Would I have called it off with Courtney before she’d started sleeping with Sunny? Would Dad have bought that Melvin land?
“Where were you that week?” she asked.
“Camping.”
“Avoiding me.”
I locked eyes with her. “Yes.”
“I stayed in the cabin most of the week, faking migraines.” She let out a humorless laugh. “I had these plans that trip. I was determined to get Dad to retire and slow down. I was going to ask if you wanted to date or . . . I don’t know. Stop hiding from everyone. I was even considering
moving to Montana.”
My heart stopped.
Fuck.
It was a good thing I’d gone camping. I might not have been head over heels in love with Courtney, but I’d cared for her. Especially then.
We’d been sharing a house. Building a life. I’d planned to make her my wife.
It was easier now to say I would have broken it off with Courtney.
After she’d betrayed me, cheated on me.
But then? I don’t know what I would have done if Indya had conveyed her interest in moving to Montana. Probably broken hearts.
Hers. Mine.
I almost felt bad for Courtney. She’d never stood a chance, had she?
Not against Indy.
Maybe that was why I’d always been angrier at Dad. When Courtney had left, I had just gotten on with my life. I hadn’t missed her.
Yeah, my pride had taken a hit with the cheating, but that had healed quickly enough.
“Do you still love her?” Her voice was no more than a whisper.
“Courtney.”
“No.”
She stared at me for a long moment.
I stared back.
“I wish . . .” Her voice cracked before she stood, then moved in a flurry to sweep away the remnants of our meal and toss the trash in the garbage.
Fuck. I raked a hand through my hair, wanting to start this night over. To take her inside the minute she’d mentioned that damn owl so we would have been halfway to my bedroom before Courtney had ever shown up. Wanting to have skipped this whole heavy conversation.
But it was one we couldn’t keep avoiding.
And it wasn’t over yet.
I leaned my elbows on my knees, waiting until she stopped moving.
Indya was at the sink again, eyes fixed out the window.
“What are we doing, Indy?”
She shrugged.
That damn shrug. “That’s not an answer.”
“I don’t have an answer. What are we doing, West?”
“I don’t have a fucking clue.” I stood and crossed the room, then wrapped her in my arms. I buried my nose in her hair to breathe in the rose scent of her perfume.
Her hands came to my forearms, holding tight as she leaned her head against my shoulder. She was dead on her feet. The longer we stood there, the more her body sagged into mine. After her second yawn, I swept her into my arms and carried her through the house.
When we reached my bedroom, I set her on her feet and went to my closet for a plain white tee. Then I traded her shirt for mine.
The hem hit her midthigh. She kicked off her jeans and unclasped her bra, then dragged it out of a sleeve and tossed it to the floor. Her hair was a mess, always bigger at the end of the day than the start.
Never in my life had I been awestruck by a woman like I was with Indya. Something expanded in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Maybe it was seeing her in my shirt. Maybe it was just having her here.
Mine. She was mine.
I framed her face in my hands, dropping a kiss to her forehead.
Then I placed my hands on her shoulders and steered her to the bed, where I yanked down the covers. “Sleep.”
She opened her mouth, probably to argue, but I pressed a finger to
her lips before she could speak.
“In you go.”
“Okay,” she murmured, nearly collapsing on the mattress.
While she snuggled into a pillow, I went to the living room and kitchen to shut off the lights. Then I returned to the bedroom, stripped down to my boxer briefs, and climbed into bed.
The minute my weight hit the mattress, she burrowed into my chest, her nose to my heart.
My hands dived into her hair, threading a curl around each finger.
Then I twined my legs with hers as I wrapped her up tight.
“What are we doing, West?” she whispered against my skin.
Were we picking up where we’d left off? Or was this a long goodbye? I wasn’t sure I’d survive another goodbye with Indya.
“Starting over. You good with that?”
Her entire body relaxed. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Thank fuck,” I breathed.
She curled in deeper, like she was trying to crawl inside my body and stay awhile. “I wish.”
There was no trailing end to her sentence this time. There were no
words she’d left unsaid.
I wish.
“I wish too, baby.” I breathed in her sweet scent, holding her tight until her breaths evened out and her body went limp with sleep.
I wish.
I wished I had kept her. I wished our timing had worked years ago. I
wished I had waited.
I wished she had waited too.
