Page 50 of Something Tangled Something True (Rosa Ranch #1)
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Tonight has been so good.
It was the perfect reminder of why I loved growing up here so much, the community we’ve built, and the amazing people and all their wonderful personalities that make Hidden Valley home.
By the time Ryder makes it back from dropping off Mayte, I’m riding on a high despite my earlier worries about my knee.
Ryder knocks three times fast, followed by three times slow, turning the key in the door and letting himself in. He’s scowling when he enters the room, locking the door behind him.
“Did you unlock the door for me?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“No. Maybe you left it unlocked?” I ask, a cold chill making its way over my skin at the insinuation that if he hadn’t, we have bigger problems.
I rub my hands up my arms on instinct, and he takes a seat beside me, cupping my face in his hands. “Lola,” he says, his words so small they shatter my heart. “I’m so sorry, baby. I was distracted, and that’s not an excuse, but?—”
I grip his cheeks, stopping his word vomit. “Ry, it’s okay,” I say, emphasizing the last word. His hands start to tremble, and his breaths come in short, fast bursts. “Nothing happened. No one is in here. I’m fine. I’m safe. ”
I hope.
He clenches his eyes shut, blowing out a long, sweet breath that tickles my lips. Pressing his forehead to mine, he winds his arms around me and holds me close to his chest.
“I don’t want to live in a world without you in it, darlin’. And if I were responsible–”
“Stop. Nothing has happened, and nothing will happen,” I tell him, keeping my voice as low as possible, despite the very real fear gripping me by the throat. But that fear isn’t for myself. It’s for Ryder’s sanity and his shaking body in my arms.
We hold each other like this until his breaths have leveled out and he’s no longer trembling against me.
He runs a hand over my hair, smoothing it out of my face. “Mayte was right, Lols,” he whispers. “I do love you.”
I close my eyes, taking a steady breath. My heart continues to hammer against my ribs, but I somehow manage to speak. “I know, Ry. And I love you too.”
He pulls back, peering into my eyes, and those blue orbs of his glitter with so much hope.
It kills me to crush those dreams, not only because they reflect my own, but because hurting Ryder is the last thing I’ll ever want.
“ That I’m sure of. What I’m not certain of is if I’m ready to offer you everything you deserve. ”
His shoulders slump, and the brightness in his eyes dims. “You are all I’ve ever wanted, and having you home has made me happier than I can describe.
But I also know you just left a man who never treated you how you deserved, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re running into the arms of another person.
So, I’ll wait for your brain to catch up with your heart, okay? ”
I swallow, willing the tears stinging my eyes to dry up.
Ryder Lockhart has been the man of my dreams my entire life, and I’m officially deciding not to let fear get in the way of that.
“Be gentle with me, Ry. I’m yours,” I whisper.
“I always have been, but I need to take things slow. There’s just so much uncertainty, and our lives have changed so quickly, I’m just a little overwhelmed. ”
He tucks a loose curl behind my ear, rubbing the tip of his nose up the length of mine. “I love you, Lola Lima. We can take things at whatever pace you need.”
I feel my shoulders pull as my upper body slackens, releasing the tension that had gathered there. My nasal passages feel like they’re tingling from the deep, contented pulls of my breath, and it’s this moment I realize everything really will be okay—because there’s no other way.
Time passes slowly, but somehow, over the last hour we’ve been watching this snooze-worthy rom-com, I’ve slid down Ryder’s lap, landing like a puddle between his legs.
“We should head to bed,” I say, stretching my arms over my head as I yawn.
Nugget’s yawn matches mine from the chair he’s lying on beside the fireplace, the TV mounted above it.
Ryder sits up, setting his hands on my hips, his eyes a silent plea. My brows pinch, unsure of what— “Oh.”
His thick length presses against me, and if I rock against him, he’ll— “Lola,” he whines, moaning loudly, desperately.
Heat worms its way through my body, and I sit up, unintentionally straddling his lap. I plant my hands on his shoulders, hovering my lips above his ear, ignoring the ache in my knee.
I know we’d said we’d take it slow, but my body is so familiar with this man, I’m not sure how slow I really want it.
And after what we’d done last night, a little taste won’t hurt, right?
The fire building in my core is responsible for the next words I breathe. “Your wife still doesn’t have any panties on… in case you’re hungry.”
A growl rips from his chest, and suddenly, I’m on my back, Ryder between my legs. He grips my ankle, bringing it up to his mouth, planting a kiss on the inside. “I’m fucking starving. ”
“I thought so,” I say with a smirk.
He continues traveling up my calf, planting kisses every couple of inches, and when he’s traveled so high that he can see between my legs, his pupils visibly dilate, blowing out the baby blue of his irises. He releases a strangled groan that vibrates straight through me.
“Enjoying the view, Ry?” I ask, panting as I run my hands up his chiseled abdomen.
“You know I am, darlin’.” He lowers himself further, pushing my thighs apart to accommodate his wide shoulders, but before he can settle between them, the thick silence in the room is shattered.
His phone rings and rings as he scrambles to grab it, and his brows climb his forehead. “Blocked number,” he says, answering the call and putting it on speaker. “Hello?”
Creepy clown music fills the small room, and Nugget jumps from his seat, sprinting to the window by the door, barking at whatever— or whoever —is lurking behind it.
My vision turns blurry as I suck in ragged breaths, trying to remain calm when I feel anything but.
Ryder hurries to end the call, and as he does, my phone goes off with a text.
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A photo of us, moments ago, his face between my legs, stares back at us on the screen.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, clutching a hand to my chest.
“This ends now, ” Ryder declares, standing and grabbing the baseball bat.
“Ry, wait!” He spins to face me, and his pale expression gives me pause. “Whoever it is probably wants you to go outside. Please, sit down. We need to call our families to warn them and check the cameras.”
He sucks in a breath, setting the bat down between us, and starts sifting through the footage on his phone.
I work on making the calls, warning everyone on the property.
My Wifey For Lifey
The cops better get her before I do. I’m tired of this shit.
Please stay safe.
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A few seconds pass before the photo loads, shocking me into near silence as I stare down at a photo of Mayte holding a gun.
When the hell did you get a GUN?! You were in the fucking Peace Corps for two years after I went away for college!
I have a kid now, Lols. I have a safe for it, and Isabela will never get her hands on it…but this creepy shit is ramping up, and I’m not taking my chances. I refuse to wind up in the headlines or on the cover of a true crime podcast. I listen to them, but I don’t want to live it!
My heart sinks in my chest. It’s my fault we’re in this mess in the first place. If I’d never come back, these people I love would all be safe.
Ryder finally stops his pacing and slumps into the seat beside me, the couch sagging under his weight.
“The cameras are no help. Whoever’s responsible for this must’ve hacked into the cameras through the Wi-Fi because the footage stops just before we received the text messages and restarts shortly after.
” He rubs at the spot between his brows and meets my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Lols. I don’t know what to do at this point, but we’ll come up with something. ”
“Let’s head to bed, I guess. Whoever it is, they’re probably gone now. No use staying up all night worrying about it.”
He stands, taking my hand to pull me up with him. “Stay with me tonight?”
I reach up on my tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll stay with you forever, Ry.” I can’t take back the words or make myself regret them once they’re out, but I can add this to the list of things my therapist and I should work on: not jumping into things just to soothe him.
He rubs his thumb over the top of my cheekbone, drawing my face to his. “Where you belong, darlin’,” he says, dipping his head and planting a need-filled, bruising kiss to my lips that leaves me panting when he finally pulls away.
This night has certainly taken a turn.