Page 8 of Something Tangled Something True (Rosa Ranch #1)
LIKE SOMETHING YOU SEE?
“And you’re absolutely certain there’s no other option?” I ask for the tenth time today, pleading for a chance that this insurance salesman will have a different answer for me than the last nine.
“I really am very sorry, Miss, but as I said, the open enrollment period is closed until November, and we don’t have any plans that meet your needs and fit your budget without an employer package. I wish I had better news for you,” the agent says, his tone earnest and sincere.
“Okay,” I choke out, tears welling in my eyes before I can blink them away. “Thank you for your time.”
I end the call, the phone heavy in my hand, and a wave of restlessness crawls under my skin, defeat gnawing at me from the inside.
I’m grateful I’m here and not the alternative, but being in a small town has its downsides.
The thing about Hidden Valley is everyone knows me, and while the urge to get out of the house is suffocating—the need to clear my mind and escape the heavy weight of impending doom caused by my ex-fiancé’s radio silence—I can’t shake the dread of running into anyone who’ll ask too many questions and make a fuss over my return.
I want to avoid those encounters, if only for one more day.
All I want to do is move, but everything hurts, so going for a ride or a walk is out of the question right now.
My aching joints act as an unfriendly reminder that, sometimes, doing the right thing comes with a price.
Like, you know, leaving your fiancé at the altar because you’ve finally come to terms with the fact that he’s an all-around shit human being.
It turns out, all those times he made you feel as though you were only marrying him for decent health insurance were, in fact, true.
And then you realize maybe you are also a shit human being.
Or maybe you’re just in pain, so much pain that you convinced yourself you loved him, that he loved you.
I slump against the kitchen counter, marveling at the field of wildflowers and the cloudless sky through the small bow window above the sink, and sucking in a deep, steadying breath. My lungs fill with the familiar scent of the incense Mami burned last night, and it helps to steady me.
It’s a beautiful day outside, and I want nothing more than to be out there right now with the horses, the wind in my hair, but the idea of moving anything is just too painful.
“ ?En qué tú piensas? ” Mayte’s voice startles me upright as she asks what I’m thinking about. When I realize it’s just her, I slump against the counter again.
“Just wish I could be outside, moving,” I tell her, shaking my head in frustration. Mayte bumps me out of her way, grabbing a grocery bag from under the kitchen sink before making her way to the small white refrigerator my parents refuse to upgrade.
“Feeling like hell, huh?” she asks, her soft, honey-brown eyes seeing right through the walls I try to put up as she fills her bag with malta .
“You stealing from Mami ?” I ask, and she levels me with a glare .
“No,” she answers with a grunt. “She asked me to stop over and grab some drinks before heading to the main house for dinner. She has a craving for malta con leche condensada . Now, tell me how you’re doing, and cut the bull crap.”
I sigh loudly, not wanting to have this conversation.
“Today’s worse than it has been in the last few weeks,” I admit, shrugging.
A flush creeps up my neck, the weight of my own stupidity sinking in for not getting a “real” job that pays me consistently and offers health insurance.
But I love dancing, and I love teaching.
More than that, I know a traditional, structured job wouldn’t be good for me, not mentally or physically.
Maybe it would be better than nothing though. Because right now, that’s exactly what I’ve got: nothing.
I could go back. Not to Russ but to the studio. I know Karmella and Yanet would gladly have me, but is that what I want? No.
“We’ll figure it out. I have no doubt.” If anyone can help me get through this, it’s her. She’s managed to overcome a surprise pregnancy with a one-night stand after finally allowing herself to let loose, just once. She’s turned out to be the most incredible mother too.
Not that that’s a surprise to anyone. She’s been mothering me my whole life.
“I’m sure. It’s just a matter of figuring out how and when because I feel like I’m falling apart over here,” I admit, annoyed it’s gotten to this point.
“Don’t worry about that now. Just get ready for dinner, and we can put our heads together afterward.”
Like I said, always mothering me. Honestly, I’ve missed it.
I nod, pushing myself off the counter and heading into the bedroom I grew up in.
The lace curtains and little trinkets are the only remaining relics from my childhood after Mami decided to turn this room into a crafting space a few years ago.
She’ s not one to let go of anything, so the closet is filled with plastic totes containing the beaded curtain Papi hung over my door that I thought was the coolest thing in the world at the time, ceramics I kept my jewelry in, and my many Celia Cruz, La India, Daddy Yankee, and the Salsa queen herself, Yolanda Rivera, posters.
It takes forever to decide on an outfit now that all my belongings are here.
I guess it was sort of convenient to have my parents in town for the wedding that never happened.
As soon as my girls and I got on the road, Karmella called my parents to tell them I wouldn’t be there and to grab my stuff from Russ’s place.
Not to anyone’s surprise, but my parents were stoked. They couldn’t have been happier to break the news to everyone and get out from under the judgmental eyes of Russ’s stuffy, uppity family.
I’ve pretty much torn through my entire closet, and I’ve got less than twenty minutes before I have to be at the main house for dinner. Anxiety climbs up my throat like bile, but I push it down, unwilling to wrestle with the “why” right now.
I hear a knock at the front door. It couldn’t be my parents or Mayte because they’d just let themselves in, so that pretty much leaves one person.
I make it to the door, willing my shaky hands to calm before I open it, finding Ryder mere inches away, his fist raised as if he was about to knock again.
Giving him a smirk, I open the door wider and step to the side for him to come in. “I take too long to answer?” I ask, batting my lashes.
His gaze rakes over my skin, taking every inch of me in. Goosebumps erupt under his scrutiny, and, embarrassingly enough, my nipples pebble just the same.
Ryder finally recovers a moment later. “I’ll wait as long as you need me to, sweetheart,” he drawls.
Now it’s my turn to stare.
I ogle at his lean, muscular frame, working my gaze from the tips of his ruddy-brown waves over his plump lips and strong, stubble-covered jaw. By the time I make it to those thick biceps straining against the seams of his black button-down, his brows are raised, eyes twinkling with amusement.
His hands are on his hips, and he wears a playful smirk. “Like something you see?”
I love when he’s playful like this. It makes it easy to slip back into our easy banter and out of the awkward tension that feels so unnatural between us.
I put a finger up to silence him. “One second. I wasn’t done,” I joke.
I wasn’t entirely kidding, considering how I avert my gaze to his thick thighs honed by years of hard work and riding.
Horses, of course. His dark jeans hang over the top of a pair of brown leather cowboy boots I recognize from helping my mom pick them out for him as a gift last Christmas.
When I’m done with my shameless perusal of him, I meet his pretty blue eyes again and can’t help but step into his embrace.
His arms widen as if on instinct, enveloping me in his warmth, and I’m surrounded by his signature scent.
God, I’ve missed this.
“It’s good to have you home, darlin’,” he whispers into my hair.
“It’s good to be back.” I pull away to end the hug before I lose all sense of reality and allow myself to become a permanent garment for him.
“You almost ready to head to the main house for dinner? I figured I’d drop by and give you a ride since I was passing by this way.” My family's cottage is literally on the furthest end of this property. There is zero reason he’d be working over here.
“Uh, yeah. I just have to get dressed,” I say, rushing over to my room. I instantly regret that because he doesn’t stay put like he should. He’s never been good at keeping his distance.
He follows me over to my room, which presently looks like an outlet mall threw up in it.
“I see some things never change,” he chuckles beside me. “When will you realize you look incredible in everything? Just pick something off the floor, and let’s get going.”
I roll my eyes, facing him with my hands planted on my hips. “When will you realize I’m unaffected by your charm?” That’s a total lie, and I’m sure he knows it too. I am but a puddle at this man's incredibly large feet.
“Mhmm. Whatever you say, darlin’.” That smirk of his remains fully intact as he traipses into my room—uninvited, might I add.
Maybe I should get some garlic for my door to keep him out, seeing as he’s become a vampire to my heart, sucking me dry of my mental fortitude and the strength to keep him at arm's length.
He looks around for a moment, making a decision far more quickly than I could have. Ryder grabs the white linen sundress with tiny floral cutouts off a hanger and tosses it at me. I catch it just before it hits the ground.
“For the record, I’m glad this is the only white dress you’ve got in that closet.” He drops that bomb on me and strides out of my room, the door clicking shut behind him.
I guess everyone is glad I didn’t marry that pendejo .
His opinion shouldn’t matter. I’m not ready for another relationship, and I have no idea if staying here will be sustainable.
Ryder Lockhart is not the kind of man you do casual with. He’s the one you marry.