Page 69 of Something Tangled Something True (Rosa Ranch #1)

TURNING THE PAGE

Ryder’s been gone the better part of the morning, and with Mayte working on an event, I figure I can keep Rhett some company.

I slip a pair of flip-flops on and crack the door open, peering outside and spotting Rhett seated on the wrought iron bench in the small garden.

It’s overflowing with vibrant wildflowers in various shades of purples, pinks, and blues.

There’s a blue jay perched on the fencepost nearest to the garden, chirping, clucking, and whirring its liquid notes in a whisper-song that fills the crisp air.

Rhett peers up over his book as I step out onto the wraparound porch, dressed in another one of Ryder’s t-shirts, this one a worn-out band tee that feels thin and soft against my freshly waxed skin.

My leggings protect me from the bite in the air from the unseasonably cool weather in early June in Oklahoma.

I find myself wrapping my arms around my upper body.

“Hey, Rhett. Mind if I join you for a bit?”

“Not at all, Miss Lola. Come on over and grab a seat,” he tells me, patting the space beside him as he leans back, ankles crossed.

His feet rest on a small ceramic table Ryder, Mayte, Ezekiel, and I helped Harlan glue colorful pieces of glass to as an anniversary gift for Bee.

Gifts we helped make litter the entire property, much of it Mami’s fault, given her affinity for arts and crafts.

I plop down beside him, stretching my sore limbs after another night spent worrying someone is trying to kill me by any means necessary.

If you’d have asked me a month ago, I’d have said Lemmon was behind it all.

She's like a small dog: all bark and no bite. But now? I’m not fully convinced of anything other than the fact that whoever's behind it is out for blood, and the thought sends a tendril of fear skirting down my back.

“Now, I know you said you weren’t sure if you’d be able to commit to our monthly book club or not, but I’m prepared to convince you,” he says with a wide grin that crinkles the sun-tanned, freckled skin at the edges of his eyes.

Rhett is a sweet man in his late thirties who opened up to me about his friendship with the other guys.

On Monday, when he took his first shift here, he’d kept me company while I worried about what the insurance appraiser would find at the barn.

The electric needs to be stripped, a new roof has to be installed, and everything is covered in soot and soggy from the water used to contain the fire, but it could be worse.

Rhett made sure I had my mind on anything but that fire, telling me all about his friendship with the guys in the Ryde or Dye book club.

Levi lost his wife to cancer a couple of years ago.

Teddy had been struggling with addiction, which ended his marriage and took his right to see his children.

Wyatt has been healing from a long history of depression, and his brother, Callaway, quit his job to support his brother on his self-growth journey.

And Rhett, well… He’s never been able to move on after “the one who got away” left a few years ago.

All the men are open about their experiences, and he assured me they wouldn’t mind me knowing what led them all to Hidden Valley.

Rhett said Ry der and I have brought him and his friends a lot of hope for the future, and that makes me more gleeful than it has any right to.

To think, our complicated, messy, and sometimes downright terrifying love story could give way to so much hope. It’s like a little miracle.

“Well, I am ready to be convinced,” I say, placing my hands in my lap and turning my full attention to the gentle giant before me.

His blue eyes twinkle, and he spends the next hour relaying the highlights of his favorite books from book club before giving me a synopsis of the current book of the month.

“So the FMC has ADHD, but she won’t medicate because she’s nursing?”

“Yeah, basically. I mean, it’s a lot more complex than that, but I don’t want to ruin it for you. She also does this thing I find hysterical, where she avoids having deep conversations with the MMC…”

“And the MMC used to work on the ranch but left after a one-night stand with the FMC where she wound up pregnant with his baby?”

“Yes! Can you imagine?” Rhett asks, tugging on the ends of his red beard.

Actually , I can imagine, considering that’s precisely what happened with Mayte. Maybe she should skip this month's book club.

“Uh, sounds wild,” I say instead, because unlike Rhett and his friends, we haven’t spoken about whether or not it’s okay to air my best friend’s dirty laundry to these men, even if Rhett seems totally harmless and is doing me and Ryder a huge favor by being here.

Speaking of the handsome devil, Ryder pulls up in his truck, the exhaust burning my nose as he cuts the engine. “Hey, y’all. Reading anything good?” He chuckles, but the sound doesn’t curl around me with warmth it usually would, and the feeling has me worried.

“I’m trying to convince Lola to join our book club,” Rhett tells him, shifting to sit straight.

“Well, consider me thoroughly convinced,” I tell him with a light laugh. I could use a good distraction from the real world.

“I’ll join too. What better way to find out what Lola’s ideal husband is than a book club that talks all about it?” he says, shooting me a wink as he produces a small bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back.

“Awww,” Rhett swoons. “That’s so sweet! You lovebirds get inside.

I’m gonna give y’all some privacy. Cal will be here to swap with me soon.

” His round cheeks pinken with his wide smile, and it makes me sad to think about these guys not being around as often after we get things sorted. Bittersweet, for sure.

“Thanks, Rhett. You guys are the best. Honestly, I don’t know how we’ll ever repay you.”

“Oh, Miss Lola. Dance lessons when your studio is up and running again will be more than an even trade. We’re really liking it in Hidden Valley, and the guys and I are thinking it might be time for us to officially call this place our home,” he says, and hope unfurls inside me, a grin tugging at my lips.

“We’d love that, Rhett. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that Hidden Valley is the perfect place to start over, even when you think your life is unrepairable.”

“It sure seems like it,” he says, shooing us inside.

Ryder leans over, wrapping his thick, muscular arms around me and hoisting me up as a squeal flies past my lips, replacing any of my earlier apprehension with excitement.

“Come on, little lady. You heard the man: We should get inside,” he says, playfully swatting my butt once we pass over the threshold into the house.

He sets me on my feet long enough to adjust his position so his arms wind around me, tugging me against his chest. My hands flatten over his firm pecs, the muscles rippling under the bunched-up black fabric of his V-neck .

“Ryder Lockhart, who’d have thought something as simple as a plain t-shirt could look so good?

” I purr, flirting shamelessly with my husband now that we’ve both agreed to remove the word “fake” from the title.

Our marriage had never been anything close to a sham, and despite the terrifying events since my arrival, I’m so glad we’re on the same page with that revelation.

“I could ask the same of you, darlin’. But I won’t because I already know the answer,” he says, dipping his chin to catch my lips in a hot kiss that melts any remnants of the icy block that settled in the pit of my stomach.

“Whether you’re wearing my clothes, your own, or nothing at all , you’re the most magnificent person I’ve ever laid eyes on. ”

I push up onto my tiptoes, winding my arms around his neck. I do my best to meet him in the middle, closing the distance between the extra foot of space between our mouths.

The muscles along my neck ache as I crane my head back, meeting his pillowy-soft lips again.

His tongue swipes along the seam of my mouth, pleading for entry.

His large hand drops to my ass, squeezing tightly as I gasp.

It’s just the distraction he needed to slip his tongue into my mouth, licking and tasting as my knees wobble beneath me.

I moan into his touch, desperate for more of him.

He pulls away just long enough to drag in a ragged breath and whisper, “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

My heart bursts at the seams before he sews them back together with the firm press of his lips against mine.

Nugget’s loud barks from the couch startle me, and I work to suck a few steadying breaths into my lungs before bending to greet him. “Hi there, Nuggs. Have a good nap?” I ask the tiny tan ball at my feet.

He jumps straight up, licking my cheek in response.

Ryder’s hearty chuckle fills the room, adding more warmth to the already-warm space with curtains in deep shades of red, tan-colored walls, and framed photographs on every wall.

“It seems I’m not the only one who missed you,” he says, reaching down to pick up Nugget, holding him against his wide chest. He presses a kiss to the top of his head, ruffling his big, pointed ears before setting him back down.

The air in the room shifts when he releases a strained sigh. “Can we go sit and talk?” he asks, waiting for my response before hanging his hat on the horseshoe-shaped hook by the door and slipping out of his dark-brown leather boots.

We take a seat on the couch, first sitting on opposite ends as anxiety hammers through me, churning the contents of my stomach. Barely a handful of seconds pass before Ryder gathers me in his arms and places me in his lap.

“I know there was a lot going on the day of the fire, and it’s taken us all some time to calm down from it, but I think it’s time we come up with a plan now that we’ve had a few days of reprieve.” His soft blue eyes are locked on my brown ones, snaring me in his worried gaze.

“It was nice to pretend everything was okay for a little while though,” I admit with a humorless laugh—not that our several-hour-long discussion about saving the barn was easy.

“But you’re right. It’s time we stop avoiding the inevitable and waiting for the other shoe to drop, again.

” There’s a war waging inside me between the parts of my past that want to pretend nothing is wrong and the pieces of my future desperately begging me to resolve this.

Ry gathers my hands in his, a subconscious habit at this point, drawing methodical circles along the pulse at my wrist. “I’ve been thinking about what Mayte said about my brother and Lemmon,” he admits, this conversation taking a completely different turn than I’d expected.

“You think Ezekiel might have something to do with this?” I ask, my brows pinched, weariness filling me. Sure, Zeke has never been a very forthcoming person, but surely he wouldn’t harm his own family, right?

“No—” He shakes his head before dropping his chin to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut as he gets his bearings.

“God, I don’t know. I don’t want to believe he could be involved in any of this, but he’s always been so withdrawn.

With what Mayte mentioned the other day, she planted a seed I’ve been ignoring until this afternoon. ”

“What happened this afternoon?” I ask without hesitation, my limbs feeling tingly as nausea builds inside me.

“When I went to check in on Dad this morning, he mentioned he couldn’t get ahold of Zeke last night.

For a man who’s rarely anywhere besides his home and the ranch, it makes me anxious to consider what he could’ve been doing.

And then—” He scratches the back of his neck, looking visibly uncomfortable.

“And then what, Ry?” I ask tentatively.

“And then, Betsy called to say she’d seen Lemmon driving out of town with a man she thought looked a lot like Zeke.”

Shock hits me square in the chest, and my heart breaks for Ryder. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you to consider him being involved,” I whisper, pulling him against me for a long hug, prioritizing his comfort over my surprise.

“I truly don’t believe he’s behind this, but I feel like I need to speak with him, clear the air, and fully convince myself he has no part in any of it,” he says, his voice cracking. “And afterward, we need to have a family meeting to solidify a plan.”

“Okay, Ry. When do you want to talk to Zeke?”

He releases a sigh and rests his forehead against my shoulder. “First thing tomorrow morning. I want one more night of normalcy to pretend there isn’t a possible murderer on the loose.”

“Sounds like we’re going to have a lot to talk about in therapy tomorrow night,” I tell him, joking to break up the tension.

“I look forward to it, darlin’. Any time I can get a glimpse into what’s running through your thoughts, I’m a happy man.”