Chapter 9
WEST
You can’t fix it. But I can.
Indya knew how to deliver a blow. Every time I replayed her words from last night, they hit square in the chest.
Maybe they wouldn’t have hurt so much if they weren’t true.
I couldn’t fix this. But she could.
From the moment she’d offered me that job last week, I’d spent countless hours trying to see a way forward. To weigh my limited options. And the best solution I’d come up with was . . . nothing.
Maybe the way I fixed this was to let Indya take control. To become her employee and take my marching orders. Because we’d had our
chance, and we’d failed.
Would Indya?
No. She wouldn’t fail.
The stubborn, arrogant part of me wanted to walk away. To let her handle everything on her own. But when it came to Indya Keller, she’d always been the one to walk away. Not me.
I couldn’t fix this.
But she could.
If I wanted the Crazy Mountain Cattle Resort to succeed, it wouldn’t be through my efforts. Not anymore. Was this acceptance? It had taken only a week for me to get to that last stage of grief. Should it have taken longer? Probably. But I was too tired to fight it, and there was too much work to be done. Work that I wasn’t going to do all on my own.
I raised my fist and pounded on Jax’s front door. Again. I’d been knocking on this damn door for five minutes.
“Jax!” I bellowed. His truck was parked outside, and I was sure he was home.
“Coming!” His voice was muffled as footsteps pounded my way.
Then he ripped the door open with one hand as the other zipped up the fly on his jeans. His torso was bare besides the fingernail scratches
raking over his pecs.
“Nice hickey.”
“Shit.” He slapped at his neck, like he could bat it away. Then he scrubbed both hands over his face. “What’s up?”
“Did you just roll out of bed? It’s five o’clock.”
“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse, and he reeked of booze. “Got in late last night. Or early this morning.”
“Shower. Then get your ass to the lodge, and fill out the employee paperwork. There’s a ride tomorrow at first light, and you need to be the
guide.”
“What?” He squinted at me.
“Work, Jax. You need to get back to work. Wyatt can’t manage it on
his own.”
“You want me to work for her?”
“Yes. For her.”
He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why?”
“What else do you have to do? Drink and chase women?”
“Well . . . yeah.”
“For fuck’s sake, Jax. At least you’re honest.” I’d forgotten what it was to be twenty-two. To shuck your responsibilities for a good time and a quick fuck. But Jax could party on his own time.
“Why would I work for her?” he asked.
“Because she needs help.”
“Then she can hire it.”
“She did. She hired me.”
He blinked. “Wait. What? You’re working for her?”
“Yes. I’m going to manage the ranch.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No.”
His jaw dropped. “Why?”
For Indya. That answer would lead to more questions than I was willing to answer, so I gave him a different version. “I don’t know what
the hell Dad was thinking. I haven’t talked to him. But this is our home.
This is our land.”
“Technically, it’s—”
“I don’t give a fuck about technicalities. I’m not leaving this ranch.
I can’t. Can you? Can you walk away?”
He stayed quiet.
“Could you live here and watch someone else work our property, manage our cattle, ride our horses?”
His jaw flexed as he considered my words.
“It’s not just the ranch. Think about the resort. The employees. Tara has worked here for as long as I can remember. So has Wyatt. Are you really going to leave them to do their own jobs, plus ours?”
Jax loved Wyatt. And Tara. They were family, and I knew before he answered what he’d say. We couldn’t abandon our responsibilities, because it would royally screw them over.
He blew out a deep breath. “No.”
“Neither can I. And that’s why I’ll give her a chance. That’s why I’ll work for her.”
“Damn it.” Jax groaned. “Did you read that stuff she’s making
everyone agree to?”
“Yes.”
The employee code of conduct was . . . thorough. By signing it, I’d agreed not to pursue romantic relationships with guests or take ranch equipment for personal use or disparage the resort on social media. The document had clearly been drafted by lawyers and was over the top, as far as I was concerned. But maybe we needed a little over the top. So I’d signed the damn thing and taken it to her last night.
“This sucks,” Jax muttered.
“It does.”
“I heard she’s a real bitch.”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” I snapped, pointing at his nose. “Only warning I’ll give you. You do not talk about her like that.”
“Whoa.” He held up his hands, looking at me like I’d grown two heads. “Jesus, West. I was just relaying what Deb said at the bar last night.”
“I don’t give a shit what Deb says. You’ll respect Indya.
Understood?”
He nodded. “Fine. Fuck.”
“Good. Now get in the shower. You stink.”
“Thanks, brother.” He stepped away from the door to slam it in my face.
But I was already gone, walking away from the small cabin where Jax lived. It was one of two cabins my grandparents had built ages ago for employees. At one point, when my dad was a kid, they’d had two employees who’d lived on the ranch full time.
We hadn’t had employees who’d wanted to live out here since, and the cabins had been mostly forgotten. Until Jax had come home from college and decided to take one over as his place. The other was still forgotten, but Jax had been working hard to fix up his house.
This spring, I’d helped him put on a new roof, and he’d just finished remodeling the bathroom.
He’d need money to finish his projects. Money he could earn from Indya.
Because who the hell knew what Dad was planning to do now that he was a multimillionaire.
My stomach knotted as I climbed into my truck. The last place I wanted to go today was my father’s house, but I’d delayed this visit long enough.
With my elbow propped on my open window, I bounced along the dirt road that led to Dad’s house. The evening breeze was cool as it blew across my face.
It had been surprisingly easy to explain to Jax why I was going to work for Indya. I’d meant every word. When I could manage to spend more than five minutes around her, maybe I’d tell her too.
God, she’d looked tired last night. I’d never seen such dark circles under her eyes. And sad. She’d looked so damn sad.
I’d had to leave the Beartooth before giving in to the temptation to haul her into my arms.
Where was Blaine? Shouldn’t her husband be here, arms ready, when she had a rough week?
Not my problem. I had enough to worry about without that mess, so I shoved it aside and continued down the road, then pulled up to Dad’s.
I’d expected to find him inside, clutching a bottle of whiskey, drinking his sorrows away like Jax. Instead, he was mowing the lawn.
The buzz of the engine and the scent of cut grass filled the air.
When he spotted me, he slowed the rider to a stop and killed the motor. When he hopped out of the seat and picked up a glass from the cup holder, the amber liquid inside sloshed.
Ah. There was the booze.
“Drinking and driving is illegal,” I said as he walked over.
“Then I guess you can finish with the lawn.” He gulped the last shot, the slight curl of his lips the only sign that it burned as he
swallowed.
“You look like shit,” I said.
Dad’s hair was greasy, like he hadn’t bothered with a shower all week. His whiskers were thick, and the circles under his eyes were as dark as Indya’s.
“I feel like shit. Might as well look the part.” He trudged to the house, then held open the screen door for me to follow.
I grimaced as I stepped inside. What the fuck had died in here? The burnt, putrid scent stung my nose. “What the hell happened?”
“Forgot a pizza in the oven this morning,” he said, walking through
the entryway.
“Pizza for breakfast. Okay.”
This was a man who’d insisted on eggs, bacon, and toast every day of the week. Guess he’d changed his diet now that he was retired.
I followed him into the living room, then bypassed the couch for the windows, popping them all open to let the breeze clear out the stench.
“Dad—”
The sound of a bottle’s lid spinning cut me off.
Dad was in his recliner, about to refill his glass from a bottle of Jack.
I snatched it away before a drop landed in the tumbler.
“Hey,” he protested.
“You’ve had long enough to sulk. Time’s up. There’s work to do.”
Dad blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“Tomorrow I want to get the cattle moved to the north meadow. Jax is taking guests riding all day. So you get to help me.”
“Excuse me?”
“What was unclear about that?”
His forehead furrowed. “You’re working for her? Both of you?”
“Well, you might have been paid millions, but I sure as fuck wasn’t.
And I’m not about to let my ranch and my cattle suffer because of your
decision.”
“It’s not your ranch.”
“So I’ve been told,” I muttered. “Indya doesn’t know how to run a ranch. It’s not fair to the animals living here to force her to learn. So unless you want to watch the cattle die, seven o’clock tomorrow. Be ready to go.”
Indya wouldn’t let the cattle die. But I also wasn’t giving up control. She’d have to hire someone else to come help, and I didn’t feel like having another person waltz onto our property and fuck it up.
“I’m not helping.” He held out a hand. “Give me back my
whiskey.”
“Not a chance.”
There was probably another bottle in the kitchen, but he could get his ass out of that chair and get it when I was gone.
Dad sighed, sagging into the chair. He looked smaller than I’d ever seen him before. “It’s good you’re working. Staying. Helping Indya get on her feet.”
Was he drunk? He wasn’t slurring, but damn, he was all over the place. “So you’re glad that I’m helping her out. But you refuse. Do I have that right?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Have you, uh, talked to your mother?”
“Not since last week. She brought out a stack of mail.” Which was
still on my kitchen counter.
“Did you tell her?”
“Yes.”
He gulped. “How’d she take it?”
“Not well.”
Mom hadn’t spoken to me since.
“Thanks for telling her,” Dad said. “I would have, but . . .”
But she wouldn’t have given him the chance.
“Your grandparents have disowned me.” He let out a dry laugh and turned his gaze to the windows. It didn’t hide the sheen of tears. “Can’t say that I blame them. They aren’t speaking to me at the moment. Do me a favor, and swing by from time to time? Make sure they don’t need anything.”
“All right.” I went to the couch, then sat on the edge with my elbows to my knees. “What are your plans for the money?”
We’d owed the bank, but not fifteen million dollars.
“Pay off our debts. Set up your grandparents so they’ll be comfortable as they get older.”
“Well, at least we’ve got our homes and some acreage. That should have made them happy. Glad you were able to negotiate that with Indya.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t negotiate that. She presented it with
her initial offer.”
“What? It was her idea?”
“Yeah.”
What the hell? I’d assumed it was Dad. She’d let me make that assumption. Why?
If she hadn’t done that, would Dad have pushed for it? I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to that question, so I didn’t ask.
“Once everything is paid, you and Jax will get the money.
Congratulations. You’re rich.”
“I was rich before.” Rich in everything but cash.
Dad closed his eyes. “If there’d been another way—”
“I know.” I wasn’t here to punish Dad. He was managing that all on his own. “If I can convince Indya to sell the ranch back to me, even just a part of it, I’ll need some of that money.”
He shrank even deeper into that chair. “She won’t sell it back.”
“She might.”
He hummed. The hum I’d heard my whole life.
The hum that meant this conversation was over. He had his mind made up, and nothing I said would change his mind.
What wasn’t he telling me? What had happened during their negotiations for the sale that made him say that? Had she mentioned
specific plans?
“Dad—”
“Let it go, West. It’s done. Trust me.” He shoved out of the chair and disappeared from the room. A moment later, his bedroom door
slammed shut.
Trust me.
He’d said that the day Indya had shown up too.
Did he even know what it meant to trust?
I took Dad’s whiskey when I left the house, a new wave of anger coming with me as I stormed outside. So that was it? Let it go?
Why wouldn’t he want me to buy the ranch back? He’d never loved that side of the operation. He’d always preferred spending days at the resort, taking guests on rides, and bullshitting with visitors over dinner and drinks.
Maybe that was why I’d always focused on the ranching operation.
It was the area where I’d had some semblance of control, most days.
How fucked up was it that I’d probably have more autonomy running the ranch for Indya than I would for my own father?
After I climbed in my truck, I slammed the door too hard, then started the engine and drove home. It was Saturday. The tradition was to spend the evening at the lodge, entertaining guests and helping kids cook hot dogs over the campfire. Reid would set up a burger bar, and after dark, we’d roast s’mores.
I didn’t want a hot dog or a burger or a s’more. Dad’s whiskey seemed rather appealing, though.
“Damn him.” I was about to go inside and work on tomorrow’s hangover when my phone rang, the chime filling the cab. “Hey, Tara.”
“Hi, West. You got a minute?”
“Of course.”
“It’s about Indya.”
“Figured as much.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Did Tara not feel like signing the code of conduct? “What’s up?”
“She hired Jonathan Lee to remodel the cabins.”
Son of a bitch. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I saw him myself when I was leaving tonight. He was at one of the cabins.”
“Shit.” I sighed. “I’ll handle it. Appreciate the heads-up.” I ended the call and immediately pulled up Jonathan’s number. He answered on
the second ring.
“West.”
“You’re not welcome on my property. I made that clear the last time we spoke. Don’t come back.”
“Is it your property? According to Indya Keller, that’s her cabin I’m remodeling.”
“I’ll say it one last time. You’re not welcome.” Before he could reply, I ended the call and pulled up Mom’s number.
“Tara already called me,” she answered. “I know about Jonathan.”
“I’ll handle it. It won’t be an issue.”
“Okay.” She sighed. “I can’t believe she hired him.”
“How would she have known, Mom?” Indya wasn’t from around here. She didn’t have any context to know who to hire and who to avoid.
“She could have asked around. Tara would have told her in five seconds not to hire that asshole.”
Yeah, Indya could have asked. She probably would have asked me if I’d bothered to meet with her.
“Just . . . put it out of your mind. I’ll take care of it.”
“All right. You doing okay?”
“Not especially. You?”
“No. Still reeling over all this, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll call you later.”
“Bye.”
With that call finished, I put my phone on the dash, leaning my head against the rest. “Shit.”
While I’d called Mom, Jonathan had probably already dialed Indya.
I’d have to explain why I’d just fired her contractor.
So much for that drink.
I put the truck in drive and sped to the resort, then parked in front of the Beartooth beside Indya’s Defender.
The sound of guests laughing at the campfire drifted from behind the lodge. Chances were, Indya was with the guests, but I went to the cabin first, not wanting to get caught up in small talk if I could avoid it.
I marched up the steps and rapped my knuckles on the door.
Silence. I knocked again. “Indya.”
Nothing. Damn. Guess I’d be making it to the campfire tonight, after all. I turned, about to make my way over to the lodge, when the door cracked open at my back.
“West?” Indya was dressed in a chemise the color of blueberries.
Her hair was undone, the curls cascading around her shoulders.
God, that hair. I used to love threading it through my fingers. Was that what she slept in? Nightgowns? The few times I’d slept in her bed, we hadn’t bothered with pajamas. There hadn’t been much sleep either.
It was strange, discovering a part of her that I didn’t know. Blaine had known this part. He’d gotten the Indya who wore sexy negligees that barely covered the curve of her ass.
“What’s wrong?” She opened the door wider, the night air pebbling her nipples beneath the satin.
I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze to an invisible spot over her head. “Jonathan Lee. You hired him.”
“Yes.” She stood taller, her expression sharpening. “He’s
remodeling the cabins.”
“Not anymore. He’s not welcome here.”
“But—”
“He’s got an unhealthy obsession with my mother. She has no interest in him, but he’s been relentless. Calling and texting so often she changed her number. Started showing up at the hospital while she was working. He’d send her expensive, inappropriate gifts like jewelry and clothes and lingerie. It’s gone on for about a year. Every time, she’d send the stuff back and tell him to stop. He didn’t stop. About four months ago, he came to her house drunk. Tried to force his way inside. She got a restraining order. But since she doesn’t live out here . . .”
“It doesn’t apply,” Indya said, finishing my sentence. “I’ll take care of it. Please pass along my apologies to your mother. I didn’t know.”
“Thanks.”
She closed her eyes, her shoulders sinking. “I need a new contractor. Any recommendations?”
“I’ll make a few calls. A couple buddies of mine have businesses in the area. They might be able to fit in a side job or spare one of their craftsmen. I’ll have them reach out to you.”
“Thanks.” She eased away from the door, about to slip inside, when I stopped her.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was your idea for the twenty acres and our houses?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’m sure your dad would have asked for it.
So I just made it part of the deal from the start.”
Would Dad have asked for it? I hated that I had my doubts. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” She gave me a sad smile. “Good night, West.”
My hand reached out without permission, gently wrapping around her elbow before she could disappear. “Indy.”
Her eyes lifted slowly.
There were questions to ask. Things to learn. Why had she come back? Why had she bought the ranch? Where was Blaine?
“Is this what you wear to sleep in every night?” It seemed more important than the other questions.
My hand released her elbow, and my fingers drifted over her skin, trailing up and over her shoulder to the thin strap that would take no more than a tug to snap.
“Yes.” Her breath hitched as I looped a finger beneath the satin strand.
Our gazes clashed, and as my eyes searched hers, the years between us seemed to unfold, swirling around us like a tornado, dragging us into the past.
To the days when I’d been a young fool. And she’d been brighter than the sun and the stars.
I wasn’t sure which of us moved first. Maybe me. Maybe Indya.
One minute I was lost in those caramel eyes; the next, my hands were in that wild blonde hair, and my mouth was crushed against hers.
A single lick across her bottom lip, and she parted. Our tongues tangled in that familiar, beautiful dance. She tasted the same. Sweet, like summer strawberries on a woolen blanket in a mountain meadow.
Damn, this woman. How I’d missed her mouth.
We sank into the kiss, clinging to each other. Her tongue flicked against mine as I nibbled on her lower lip, just the way she liked it.
I groaned, the sound deep from my chest as my arms wrapped around her, hauling her close.
Kissing Indya was as natural as breathing.
It should be. I’d been kissing her since I was a kid.
She leaned into the kiss, rising up on her toes as her arms banded around my shoulders so she could climb higher. Her fingers dived into my hair, tugging at the roots.
I slanted over her, devouring her mouth, licking and sucking and plundering.
She mewled as I nipped the corner of her upper lip.
It was good. It had always been so fucking good. We were like kindling. All we needed was an ember, and we went up in flames.
One of my hands slid lower, finding that lace hem of her chemise. I slipped beneath the satin, fitting my palm to the smooth curve of her ass.
She gasped, tearing her mouth away, as I squeezed.
Our breaths were ragged between us as we stared, still holding tight.
Then Indya sank onto her heels. Her hand drifted down my chest, stopping over my thundering heart. One moment, she let the beat soak into her palm. This was the moment when she’d fist my shirt and drag
me inside. When I’d carry her to bed.
Except she didn’t pull.
She pushed.
One shove, and I rocked back on my heels.
While she slammed the door in my face and flipped the lock.
