Page 33 of Stormswept Colorado (Hart County #3)

THIRTY

Ayla

Ricky, my makeup artist, spun me around to face the mirror. “What do you think, lovely? The green shadow with touches of gold and matching eyeliner, which I call Naughty Forest Spirit, or the darker Va-Va Vixen palette?”

“Um, what was the first thing again?”

He bowed his head. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

I bit my fuchsia-painted lip. “Not a single one. Sorry.”

Ricky’s boisterous laugh filled my bathroom. “You’re probably writing a song in your head right now. Which is totally fine. Don’t mind me. I’ll take lots of pictures and let you decide later which palette you prefer for which event.”

My neighbor Hayleigh popped her head into the room. “He’s right. You’ve been super distracted lately.” She gave Ricky a look. “We had a brunch date last Sunday, and I had to drink three mimosas waiting for her late ass to show up.”

“I said I was sorry. You guys make me sound like the worst. Also, how did you get in here?”

She shrugged. “Bryan let me in since Ricky was already here. Your security guys love me.”

We were in my house in Malibu. Ricky had come over today to test out some new makeup looks. My assistant had been in and out, doing the things she always took care of for me.

As for Hayleigh, she showed up whenever she wanted since she lived in the next house over.

She was the daughter of a famous movie director and a legendary actress.

Her parents funded her lifestyle, and Hayleigh hadn’t decided on a career yet.

Every month, it was something different.

Screenwriter, fashion designer, wellness influencer.

Being friends with Hayleigh wasn’t really a choice. She just happened .

As for Bryan, he was back to work after his recovery from the concussion, and he’d been a constant presence on my security detail.

Ricky put his hands on my shoulders. “You’re my favorite client by far. I’d let you get away with any number of crimes, fashion or otherwise.”

“If anything, you should be less approachable,” Hayleigh said. “You’re always the sweetest. As long as nobody interrupts your calls with Maisie.”

I smiled. “Thank you for noticing.”

“But I have to admit, I’m curious about what’s going through that talented head of yours,” Ricky added. “The next Grammy winner for album of the year?”

Lately, I’d been wrapped up in my music.

That was true. Inspiration had grabbed hold of me since my return from Colorado, which was a relief in some ways.

I’d spent hours in my recording studio here at home every single day.

Bits and pieces of new lyrics and melodies came to me constantly.

My songwriting notebook lived on my nightstand for middle-of-the-night surges of creativity.

Yet I hadn’t finished a single song.

My potential stalker remained in the back of my mind. So far, he hadn’t replied to my email trying to draw him out. The flower arrangement I’d received at the Last Refuge Inn had been another dead end. No idea who’d sent it .

But it wasn’t really the stalker that had me so distracted. It was the rest of what happened during Ashford and Emma’s wedding weekend.

It was him . Teller. How his body had felt on mine… All the things he’d said…

You’re the most breathtaking woman. It blows my mind.

I’ll never forget this weekend with you.

Two and a half weeks now since Cheryl and Paul piled me into that G-wagon and we drove away, Teller Landry in the rearview.

“I’ve been writing a lot,” I said. “But I wasn’t thinking of a song just now. Something else.”

Hayleigh came further into the bathroom and perched on the counter. “Something you want to share? Entertain me, please. That’s why I’m here.”

I stuck my tongue out at her.

Teller had been texting me every couple days, and his messages had been a lifeline. Little bubbles of happiness that popped way too soon. I’d tried to write back, but it was hard. Not knowing what to say. Not even knowing what I felt about him.

I suspected my brain was trying to channel all those mixed-up emotions into my music. But that didn’t mean I had answers. Just a lot of heartfelt verses filled with aching longing and zero conclusions.

My heart was scraped raw. Great for inspiring my music. Really dang painful to experience.

I needed someone to talk to. I trusted Hayleigh and Ricky both. Ricky had told me about his boyfriend troubles, and even though Hayleigh still hadn’t decided on a career path, she’d always been supportive.

“There’s…a guy,” I admitted.

Ricky gasped. “Has he been wooing you? Please tell me he has.”

“He’s been texting me a lot. Saying he’s thinking of me. He’s very protective. I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with him. ”

Hayleigh fanned her face. “I have tingles.”

“But we both agreed we can’t be a thing. I mean, we didn’t discuss it outright, but it was implied. A relationship would be too complicated.”

“Is this Paul Ruxton?” Hayleigh asked breathlessly.

My face scrunched up. “Absolutely not .” A tabloid story had popped up recently, speculating about me and Paul. He’d made sure paparazzi snapped pics of us outside one of LA’s hottest sushi restaurants, though it had been nothing but a business dinner.

But it wasn’t worth getting upset over made-up stories.

“This guy isn’t in LA, and he’s not in the industry. I feel like I can be myself with him.”

Hayleigh nodded along. “That’s the dream, right there.”

“But I don’t even know when I’ll see him in person again. Kinda hard to date someone I never see.” I was aware that people dated long distance, but it didn’t seem realistic for me.

“You’re Ayla effing Maxwell,” Ricky said. “He should be moving heaven and earth for the mere chance to grovel at your feet.”

I smirked. “That line has potential as a song lyric.”

Ricky winked. “It’s all yours.”

After Ricky finished testing makeup looks and we decided which were my favorites, I asked him and Hayleigh to stick around for dinner.

We had takeout on my balcony. After my usual bedtime call with Maisie, my friends and I snuggled into my oversized couch with microwave popcorn and fuzzy blankets to watch a movie.

The time I’d spent with Teller in Hart County made me realize how lonely my everyday routine in LA had gotten. I’d told myself that my music, my frequent calls with Maisie, and the occasional hang-out with my few trusted friends kept me fulfilled. But that wasn’t enough for me anymore.

I wanted to live .

And I was Ayla effing Maxwell , right? Didn’t I deserve that?

After Ricky and Hayleigh left for the night, I found myself glancing over Teller’s text messages again.

Then I opened that photo taken at the wedding reception of the Lonely Harts club.

I zoomed in on me and Teller, and my body recalled with a rush of goosebumps how he’d been touching me while this photo was taken.

Which had been very exciting, don’t get me wrong.

But tonight, I missed the emotional closeness we’d shared. Having someone to confess my innermost thoughts to. I had shared more with Teller about myself, my past , than anyone before.

I’d avoided having a real conversation with him since leaving Colorado because I’d thought it would just make this harder. I was supposed to move on.

But he’d said he missed me too.

I went back to our messages and was about to start typing when a text popped up from him, beating me to the punch.

Teller

Just heard from River. He has an update on the stalker investigation. Any chance you’re free to talk with us?

I’m free now.

A couple minutes later, a video call came in. I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, feeling silly about my self-consciousness, then accepted it on my iPad. Good thing I’d washed off all my crazy makeup hours ago.

Teller was in his office at the station. Hair neat, handsome in his uniform. He looked so damn good.

“Ayla,” he said softly. “It’s great to see you. ”

Meanwhile, I could hardly breathe. I was nervous, and it wasn’t so much about the stalker.

This man. Did he have any idea what he did to me?

“You too. It’s almost midnight in Colorado, isn’t it? You’re working late.”

“Busy day at the station.”

I frowned. “Anything bad?” Silver Ridge was a small town, but terrible things could still happen there. It made me dizzy to think of him being in danger.

He glanced to the side, and I could tell he was holding something back. “It doesn’t involve anyone you know. I’m sure you’re anxious to know what River found. I’ll add him to the call.”

“Okay.”

Actually, I would’ve preferred to talk with Teller for a while longer before we got to the stalker updates. It was the first time I’d seen his face in weeks. But I didn’t want to keep him up later than necessary if he’d had a difficult day. Teller had so much responsibility on his shoulders.

Made me think, oh-so-briefly, about what I would’ve done if I were in Silver Ridge. Like stop by the station to bring him dinner. Massage those tense shoulder muscles, kiss away his pensive expression…

I shook off that sliver of fantasy.

Another window popped up on the video call, and River appeared. He was wearing black-framed glasses, and it looked like he was in a dark apartment, his face lit by the glow of his computer. We greeted each other, and then River got right to his news.

“I’ve been working on tracking the sender of the email you received, Ayla. As we discussed in Hartley.”

I nodded, remembering the creepy message from Biggest Fan and the attached photo of me shopping on Main Street. “You found something?” I prompted.

River adjusted his glasses. “It’s taken longer than I would’ve liked.

Your stalker took some elaborate steps to hide his identity.

There are anonymizing programs you can download on the dark web, and unfortunately they’re easy to access.

But after a lot of tracing back through different servers, I narrowed down his IP address to the west side of Los Angeles. ”

I blinked, feeling that knowledge sink in.