Page 30 of Broncos and Ballads (Healing Springs Ranch #2)

She didn’t want to be in Los Cabos for Reed’s bachelor party.

Venus stood on the private patio of her resort suite and tried to enjoy the view of the ocean with its cobalt water, white sands, tropical plants, and palm trees. But she was too tense.

Not that she didn’t like visits to the tropical paradise. She’d been there before on vacations with her mom. She’d come with girlfriends after graduating from high school. She’d even been there a couple of times to model swimwear.

But this time was different.

A gentle evening breeze filled with the scent of salt and sea caressed her skin. She shivered and drew her light sweater closed over her sundress.

Reed was really going through with his marriage to Lexi. Since the engagement in early August, he hadn’t changed his mind. He hadn’t wavered. And he hadn’t hinted that maybe he was having second thoughts, even though he’d admitted to being jealous a few weeks ago in New York.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. If Reed was still in love with Lexi and felt certain he was doing the right thing, then Venus had to stop hoping he’d want her instead.

She’d known that from the start of his engagement.

She didn’t want to break him and Lexi up, didn’t want to cause him heartache, didn’t want to interfere.

“He loves Lexi. She’ll make him happy. And that’s all that matters. ”

Was it finally time to accept that she and Reed would never be more than friends? That, in fact, she was okay with just friendship?

Because she was…

Venus took in the stunning view for a last long second, then she turned away from it, back to her suite with the king-sized bed in the spacious bedroom with the high ceiling fan, walk-in closet, and sitting area.

She paused and waited for the jealousy, the hurt, or even the frustration over Reed and Lexi to swell inside her.

But there was nothing. Except the tension.

If she was honest with herself, the tension had nothing to do with Reed or Lexi.

It had everything to do with the fact that Brock McQuaid was coming to the bachelor party too.

Over two weeks had passed since she’d driven away from Healing Springs Ranch and Brock. And she hadn’t talked to him once in all that time. Not that he hadn’t reached out to try to talk with her. He had.

That first night, he’d left voicemail after voicemail telling her he was sorry and that he didn’t want to lose her.

He’d had both Ella Mae and Harper call and text her too.

Eventually Brock had gotten Venus’s unspoken message that she didn’t want to talk.

After that night, he hadn’t called or texted again.

She’d heard through her agent that he’d gone to Aruba for a few days and then to his ranch in Nashville. No doubt he’d been busy writing songs for his new album.

Was she still his inspiration?

She gave a sharp shake of her head. No, it didn’t matter. Of course she wouldn’t be his inspiration anymore. She was being ridiculous to even think that was a possibility. Not after the way she’d cut him out of her life.

“I’ve fallen in love with you…and I’d like more.” His words were like a playlist on repeat, and no matter what she’d done to shut out the music, the melody hummed through her head.

Brock had fallen in love with her. He loved her.

The more she’d repeated it, the more it had seemed to sink in that a handsome and successful man like Brock McQuaid loved her.

He was everything any woman could ever dream of having.

Of course, he wasn’t perfect, but he was an honorable man in all the ways that counted. And he’d been so, so good to her.

The truth was, she’d missed him since leaving the ranch, and she felt as though a part of her was empty without him. She’d been unusually sad, even despondent, knowing she’d never be with him again in the same way.

She’d tried to ignore the ache inside, but it had been deepening with every passing day, and now that she would see him tonight, she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

A text dinged on her phone.

She crossed to the bed, where she’d tossed her phone and the rest of the contents of her travel bag when she’d arrived. She flipped the phone over and took in the name. Kristin.

She bit back a sigh. Who had she hoped would be texting her? Brock? Of course he wouldn’t be.

Venus started to fling her phone back onto the bed, but another text came through from Kristin with the first few words showing.

Kristin: Look at the article!…

Venus’s heart crashed to a halt. Kristin could only be talking about one article—the Rolling Stone piece that was due to release today. Venus had been waiting for it, worrying that Tia and Ethan had seen right through her and Brock’s charade.

In fact, Venus wished she hadn’t agreed to the interview. It had been a bad idea to make their fake relationship so public. Even if doing so would give them lots of publicity now, in the long run, what would happen once word got around that she and Brock were no longer seeing each other?

It was bound to happen. Maybe not anytime soon, because they would both be at the bachelor party and the wedding. But eventually, the two of them would need to stage an official breakup.

Maybe it would be sooner rather than later if the Rolling Stone article picked up on their fakeness…

She tapped the link in Kristin’s text, and her browser opened up to the digital version of the article to find the big bold title: Brock McQuaid Head Over Boot Heels.

Tia had obviously played on one of Brock’s hit songs to create the title, like most articles did.

Venus read the subtitle: No doubt about it, the man is in love.

That was a line from another one of Brock’s songs.

Venus knew because she’d listened to only his music for the past two weeks.

She’d told herself doing so was harmless, that she simply liked his songs, that it didn’t mean anything.

But it had made her think about him all the more.

She blew out an exasperated sigh—one directed at herself. Why had she cut things off with him so completely? She could have at least maintained their friendship.

Maybe this weekend she could find a way to talk to him. Should she apologize? At the very least, she could tell him she was sorry for leaving his house so abruptly without a goodbye or even a thank-you.

She hovered over the front page of the article. Brock was at the center with his guitar in hand, a mountain peak behind him. His fingers were splayed over the strings, his head bent, his scruffy jaw all that was visible of his face. But it was enough to see how ruggedly handsome he was.

She read the title again. Brock McQuaid Head Over Boot Heels.

It didn’t have a question mark. Tia wasn’t asking if Brock was head over heels. She was declaring it for the world to hear.

Did that mean Tia believed they were in love?

Venus swiped the screen to turn to the next page of the article. There, the very first picture, was the last one Ethan had taken, where she and Brock had been hugging, and he’d leaned down and kissed her head.

The photo had an almost ethereal look to it, the blue sky hazy with afternoon sunlight and clouds, the trees a blurred bright green in the background, and the two of them standing in the wilderness.

Her face was buried against his shoulder, but his handsome features were in the direct line of the camera.

His lashes were half down, but his expression took her breath away. The adoration and the reverence—the emotions were so stark and so obvious that Venus could only stare.

Tia had picked a perfect title and subtitle. Brock really did seem in love—so in love that Venus’s heart picked up its pace at the way he was looking at her.

It was just as he’d said. He hadn’t pretended to be in a relationship just to satisfy fans. And he wasn’t manufacturing emotions so he could prove he was capable of being committed to one woman. No, he looked genuine, real, and happy.

Happy. She’d been happy too. Happier than she’d ever been. Yes, even happier than she’d been with Reed.

Why? How was it possible that being with Brock brought her more happiness? Maybe because Brock was fun-loving and easygoing. He was creative and impulsive, and they had made some great memories together.

She didn’t read what Tia had written and instead scrolled to the next page of the article, which was a collage of more pictures from that day together. In each one, Brock was looking at her as if she was the most important person in his world, as if no one and nothing else mattered.

Most weren’t poses but were of the two of them interacting naturally—her laughing at something he’d said, him winking at her, the two of them standing shoulder to shoulder and gazing at the scenery.

The one of them in the hot spring with her sitting on his lap made them look a little too cozy.

She couldn’t remember that picture being taken, and she was embarrassed by the seductive look on her face, as if she was thinking thoughts about Brock she shouldn’t have been.

It was the one picture she wouldn’t have approved of if she’d been given a choice, but she hadn’t been. Now it was out there for the world to see that she was attracted to Brock McQuaid.

She released the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. What did it matter if the world believed she was attracted to Brock? Wasn’t that the point of the article?

Besides, she only had one picture showing her blatant desire for Brock, but he had six or eight revealing his feelings for her. What would he think when he saw the article? Would he be frustrated that he’d allowed himself to fall for her so quickly only to have it all thrown back in his face?

He had told her that his love hadn’t been pretend, that he hadn’t been acting. This article was the proof, wasn’t it?

Another text from Kristin pinged on her phone.

Kristin: The Rolling Stone pictures of the two of you are trending.

Venus’s legs turned weak, and she sank to the edge of the bed.

She didn’t care that the article and the pictures were trending and would push her into an even greater spotlight.

That didn’t matter. What mattered was figuring out what this all meant.

Had she been too hasty in pushing Brock away?

Should she have given them more of a chance?

She buried her face in her hands.

“No.” She shoved up from the bed and straightened her shoulders. “I’m being so selfish.”

She’d already cut things off with Brock, and she couldn’t start up their relationship again. Not that he’d even want to—not after her complete silence since she’d run away from him, not when she still hadn’t worked through her fears of becoming like her mom.

She wanted to. And she was finally beginning to admit that Reed had been correct at his engagement party when he’d accused her of being afraid of committing.

She’d assumed she was waiting for Reed, had always thought he was the right person, that no one else could match up to him.

But what if he’d just been an excuse to keep from committing to anyone?

She opened her phone again to the Rolling Stone article, to the front picture of Brock.

His fingers on the guitar strings were strong and deft and calloused.

The veins and sinews showed prominently, as did the smattering of dark hair on his arms where his sleeve was rolled up and one of his tattoos was visible.

She loved every detail about him and suddenly couldn’t get enough. She swiped to the next page and hungrily took in each picture of him, needing him and wanting him in a way that was almost frightening. A way she’d never felt for Reed.

She’d thought by sticking with Reed and avoiding other relationships she would prevent herself from becoming like her mom. But was it possible she’d ended up doing the very same thing as her mom in elevating one man too high and comparing everyone else to him?

Venus fingered the picture of Brock in front of her. Was it time to stop letting Reed take up so much of her life? Stop holding him up as the standard she wanted?

She stood and paced to the door and then back to the bed. The truth was, she had to take this step if she really wanted to break free from the pattern her mom had modeled. She had to let go of her fears and move on…and she really did want to do that with Brock.

She could only hope she wasn’t too late and hadn’t pushed him entirely away. He might be mad at her, might have decided good riddance, might have made up his mind that she was too much of a hassle.

But she had to at least try to talk to him. It would be difficult with Reed and all the other guys around. But she needed to make the next move. That much was clear.