Last Second Chance

Chapter Thirteen

“You are honestly the last person on Earth I expected to see here.” Stella tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear as she lowered herself to a table across from her ex-boyfriend. “I mean, not that it’s not nice to see you. I just meant—”

“I know what you meant, Stella.” Nash Douglas grinned at her as he dropped into the other chair. “Trust me I don’t exactly want to be here. Not that it’s not nice to see you too, of course.” He winked and she became oddly uncomfortable.

She hadn’t seen Nash since graduation, where he was smiling and taking pictures with Tess and their families. The way they’d looked together, she’d half-expected him to drop down on one knee and propose in the middle of the ceremony.

But right now, the way he was looking at her was off-putting. His bright blue eyes sparkled mischievously at her from under his carefully styled brown hair. Add that to the way Van had practically stormed out of the Atrium and she was growing more uncomfortable by the minute.

“So, um, what exactly happened? To bring you here, I mean?”

Nash leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “You remember Cain Sellers? His older brother Colton was president of Phi Beta Kappa last year.”

“The one who OD’d?”

Stella hadn’t kept up with Nash’s fraternity brothers, but everyone on campus knew Colt and Cain Sellers. Half of the buildings on campus were named for their family members, a result of copious donations. The infamous brothers had always driven expensive cars, had flocks of girls hanging all over them, and the best parties according to Nash. She’d always been too busy studying to go to any of them, but she heard about them for weeks afterward.

Their senior year, Colton had been found unconscious in a bathroom in an apartment off campus. The rumor was that it was a heroin overdose. He’d lived, but he never returned to school. His younger brother had partied more instead of less—as if he were partying for both of them once his brother was gone.

“Yeah,” Nash answered quietly. “Supposedly Colt came here and got cured after everything went down. So Cain’s parents just checked him in.”

Stella bit her lip. She wasn’t a doctor, but she’d taken enough counseling classes to know that there wasn’t a cure for addiction. Colt Sellers might’ve gotten a handle on it after his stay here, but SCR wasn’t a magical cure because there was no such thing. Not that she wanted to have that debate with Nash Douglas at that particular moment.

“Oh. Well, I hope he gets the help he needs. I’ve only worked here a few weeks, but from what I can tell, it’s a great place.”

Nash nodded. “Yeah. Me too. He’s not a bad guy, just… I don’t know. Sometimes all that money…”

Stella nodded, though having never been particularly wealthy or addicted to any habit-forming substances, she couldn’t really empathize.

“It’s nice of you to visit him. He’s lucky to have such a good friend.” She smiled, but Nash looked slightly embarrassed.

“Uh. Yeah.” He cleared his throat before meeting her eyes. “Actually I agreed to come drop some things off for him because I was hoping to run into you.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You were? Why?” She felt her face flush at her blurted reaction.

Nash grinned. “I’ll try not to take that personally.”

She closed her eyes, annoyed at herself for being so socially impaired when it came to interacting with her fellow human beings. Horses she could handle. Her own species, not so much.

Opening her eyes, she gave him an apologetic smile. “That came out wrong. I was just surprised is all. Mostly it felt like we were avoiding each other after…”

“After I acted like a dick and hooked up with your roommate,” he finished for her.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say at all. I told you and Tess both, it wasn’t my place to tell either of you who you could date. We’re adults. You can date whomever you choose.”

Nash leaned closer, staring intently at her for what felt like entirely too long for comfort. “I chose you, Stella. First. I chose you first. But you didn’t seem to be feeling it.” He shrugged and leaned back, giving her some much needed space.

Stella swallowed hard and did her best to step off the train speeding straight toward Awkwardville. “Um, yeah. I know I was distracted a lot. I just had a lot going on and—”

“And I was too lame to hold your attention?”

She shook her head. “No. God, Nash. It so wasn’t—”

“Please, if you ever cared about me at all, do not say, ‘It wasn’t you, it was me.’ My pride will shrivel up and die. And my dick probably will too.”

She laughed, despite his pained expression. She did her best to console him. “But it was me. I threw myself into studying, into being perfect and making perfect grades. Between being a TA, my internship, and classes, there just wasn’t much left for a relationship. None of that is on you.”

His forehead creased for a moment before he grinned. “Okay, so it was you.”

“It was. It so was.”

“Not to be an ass or anything, but can I ask why you felt like you had to be so perfect all the time? Wasn’t it kind of…”

“Exhausting?” she finished for him. “Yeah, it was. But I’ve always been that way. I don’t really know why.”

Well that wasn’t exactly true. She knew why. It was the same reason she’d raced all those years, the same reason she’d practiced day and night, taken extra riding lessons, and done whatever it took. Every time she ventured into anything—riding, school, work, any of it. She’d tell herself that if she could just get it right, just be the best, be undeniably flawless, her daddy would finally look at her, really look, and tell her he was proud of her. Or maybe even just acknowledge that she existed.

But no matter how pleased her mom was with her riding, her awards, or her grades, her dad had the same response. A passing nod. A grunt that sounded like, “All right.”

She swallowed the painful, jagged lump of rejection that rose in her throat whenever she let herself think about him and focused on the handsome man-boy across from her.

“Nash, if you came here to talk about—”

“I came here to visit Cain. And because I wanted to see you. So I could apologize.”

Stella was confused. “Apologize for what exactly?”

Nash stared down at his hands on the table. When he looked up, his smile was heavy with regret.

“For not trying harder. For not making the kind of effort I should have.” He smirked when he saw what probably looked like detached amusement on her face. “Not that it matters now. But for the record, if I could do it over again, I would’ve been less self-centered, less involved in the Phi Kap stuff, and paid more attention to you, tried to figure out what you needed from me.”

“I don’t understand.” Where in the world was all of this coming from? Why now? Why here? “Did something happen with you and Tess?”

She didn’t keep in touch with her roommate, didn’t really pay attention to her own social media accounts much less anyone else’s, but she figured she’d have seen something if they’d broken up. And she didn’t expect that breaking things off with Tess would send Nash back in her direction. The truth was, she’d never actually needed anything from him. Which may have been why it wasn’t too hard to let go.

“No.” Nash shook his head. “Everything’s good. Tess and I are great. Just…I don’t know. After graduation, starting my big-boy job at my dad’s law firm, I guess I’ve had more time to think about things.” He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “And sometimes, you run across my mind. The beautiful distracted girl who was mine for a brief moment in time.”

“How poetic.”

Stella’s entire body jolted to life at the low rumble of Van Ransom’s voice from beside her. She and Nash both looked over at the man casting a dark shadow over their table.

“Hate to interrupt you there, Shakespeare. But I need to speak with you, Miss Chandler. Now, please.”

His eyes had darkened enough that she could see her reflection in them. She didn’t want to think about why or how this man did things to her heart and lungs that made her especially aware of them.

“Um, okay. Nash, can you excuse me for just a moment?”

“Sure thing.” He raised an eyebrow but said nothing else as he leaned back in his chair.

She stood, smoothing her skirt and feeling completely off balance as she followed Van over to a secluded corner beside a large plant.

“Mr. Walker,” she began through gritted teeth. “This really isn’t the time for a testosterone showdown. Not that my lunch companion is any of your business, but just so you know, Nash and I—”

“Slow down, cowgirl. Right now, I honestly don’t give a single solitary fuck who you have lunch with.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, trying her best to remain calm despite his harsh words and his livid tone. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. What can I do for you?”

His clenched fists sent his muscles twitching and flexing up his arms. He was even more lethal when he was angry. The heat of his anger pulled at that dormant beast inside her that longed for his attention. For his touch.

Van met her eyes, confidence shining brightly in his own. Clearly she hadn’t done such a great job of not checking him out. “My manager made a mistake. He gave someone here contact information for a woman named Vanessa Reeves. She might be on the list to contact about coming to a family session. It’s vital that she is removed and that no one contacts her or tells her that I’m here.”

Stella nodded. “Got it. Vanessa Reeves. Consider her removed from your contacts.”

Relief smoothed his features visibly. “Thank you.”

“Anything else I can do for you?” Making him feel better filled her with a sense of accomplishment and the offer tumbled from her lips without her even thinking the words.

One side of his mouth lifted and the wicked gleam retuned to his eyes. “That’s a list for another day. Enjoy your lunch.”

With that, he walked away, leaving her gaping at his retreating figure. Frustration boiled to the surface as she made her way back to where Nash was sitting and waiting for her.

“Was that who I think it was?”

Stella didn’t answer. She was still silenced by the shame of having the nerve to think he’d be jealous. He’d stepped in that day with Dr. Tyler because the man had been inappropriate with her. Just because he’d admitted he wanted to sleep with her didn’t mean he cared what she did with anyone else. And she’d jumped to a humiliating and false conclusion just now. But the fact that Van had risked his anonymity to enter the part of the Atrium that wasn’t private, and on visiting day when anyone could see him and announce to the world that he was here, told her that at the very least, he wanted that woman removed from his list more than he valued his privacy. And here she’d thought that urgency had to do with her. Shame heated her face.

“I’m an idiot,” she said absently—unintentionally out loud.

“Huh?” Nash looked at her like she’d completely lost her mind. “No you’re not. Why would you say that?”

She shook her head. “Never mind. Ignore me. I’m… I’m a little off today.”

A low chuckle from across the table surprised her. “Nah, you look okay to me. In fact, I feel like I just caught a glimpse at a side of you I wasn’t supposed to see. The human side.”

“What are you talking about?” Her mouth went instantly dry as she searched her brain for anything that had just happened with Van that might’ve sent the wrong message to bystanders.

Nash paused, smiled knowingly at her, and tilted his head toward the direction Van had gone in. “I used to try to make you mad. Just to get a reaction out of you. Something. Anything. I never could.”

She felt her eyes go wide. “You what?”

“It was dumb. And pointless. I see that now.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “Apparently the lead singer from Hostage for Ransom has much more of an effect on you than I ever could.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Nash. I need to get back to work. But please, do me a favor and don’t mention to anyone that you saw him here.”

Placing her hands on the table, she pushed herself backward and away from the accusations that had hit way too close to home.

“Stella, wait. Hear me out. Please.”

She froze, intrigued by Nash’s powers of observation and also terrified by them. If he’d figured her out in five seconds, how long would it be until everyone else did?

“I didn’t mean to upset you. Well, not just now anyway. The truth is, while it doesn’t do much for my ego, it’s kind of nice to see that someone has finally gotten to you. Frankly, I’m a little jealous.”

Stella shook her head. “I-it’s not like that. He’s a patient, um, a client here. I’d get fired,” she said barely above a whisper.

“Can I be honest with you?”

She nodded.

“I hated that I wasn’t the guy for you and that when I found the girl for me, it hurt you—or it would’ve hurt you if you would’ve let it. What I’m trying to say is, I wish things had happened differently. But what I have with Tess…” For a few seconds, his gaze drifted. Then he shrugged again and met her stare. “Some sins are worth it.”

“I bathed them today. Mother Maybelle rolled in the dirt immediately after.” Jesse Ramirez let out an exasperated sigh. “Shadowdancer told me to keep my soapy sponge to my damn self unless I wanted his hoof prints branded across my face.”

Stella Jo laughed for the first time in what felt like an excruciatingly long day. She raised a hand to her eyes and squinted toward where Jesse stood in front of the setting Texas sun. “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe he’ll at least let me rinse him off.”

“Good luck with that.”

After they said their goodbyes, Stella headed into her little bungalow and switched her work clothes for cut-offs and an old, faded oxford shirt. She pulled her riding boots on and tied her hair into a messy bun before heading to the stables. Washing Shadowdancer was going to be quite the event.

Her patience for difficult men was already at its limit for the day as it was.

She had a plan for Shadowdancer, but she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it. It involved tying him to his stall so he couldn’t stomp around or rear back on her while she was washing him down.

Now if only she could tie Van Ransom up and make him tell her what went on behind those conflicted stares of his. Sometimes he looked like he wanted to eat her alive, and others he looked like she made him regret being alive. But every now and then, like today when she’d told him she’d take that woman off his contact sheet, he looked at her with gratitude in his eyes. Eyes that darkened in a way that sent images of them tangled up in each other straight to the deep recesses of her wildest imagination.

“He’s not going to like that,” the man from her imagination called out as she looped the rope around a slat of Shadowdancer’s stall.

Stella focused on her breathing, hoping he wouldn’t notice how much just his voice alone had rattled her.

“You’re the expert on what he likes?” She had to admit that the dark horse had backed into the farthest possible corner of his stall. Both of them were looking at her like she’d lost her mind. “Since when do you even like horses?”

“I’m a man. I know we don’t like to be tied.”

Now there was a mental image she’d be recalling later.

“Well that’s too bad. I had such big plans for you.” Stella was aiming for teasing, but her words carried the irritation she felt. She wanted to throw her hands up, kick the bucket of soapy water over, and tell Van to do this his damn self. She was tired. She was frustrated. Nash had made her feel defective. He’d tried to reach her, to affect her, and hadn’t been able to because she was a cold fish. A cold, empty fish.

And now a man who sent her insides into a scorching free fall was telling her how to handle the animals she’d dealt with her entire life.

Just as she prepared to fasten Shadowdancer’s bridle, he flattened his ears and stomped a hoof in her direction. She backed up and knocked the bucket over.

“Fuck,” she bit out.

Before she had time to react, Shadowdancer leapt toward her. He wanted her out of the stall, but her legs wouldn’t move fast enough. She was about to be pinned under him. Closing her eyes, she braced for the impact. But it didn’t come.

Instead, she opened her eyes and saw black. A black shirt with faded writing on it. One she’d seen before. The first day they’d met. But this time, she was up even closer because Van Ransom had yanked her from the stall and had her wrapped tightly in his arms.

She took a deep breath, both to calm herself and to inhale his rich, intoxicating scent. Expensive masculine aftershave and the faintest hint of tobacco enveloped her. Raising her head, she met Van’s penetrating stare.

He looked as panicked and turned on as she felt. “I’m sorry. I just… I—”

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I got impatient, pushed him too hard too fast. He still doesn’t trust me.”

Van stared at her. She thought he was about to let her go. But instead of releasing her, he lowered his face until their lips were almost touching. “I don’t think it’s you he doesn’t trust.”

“You don’t?”

He shook his head slowly, very nearly grazing her nose with his. “I think he doesn’t trust himself.”

She was pretty certain they weren’t talking about Shadowdancer anymore. His hands gripped her arms, each finger pressing into her flesh just enough for her to savor the pressure. Her chest heaved as she breathed against him.

“He’s probably afraid he’ll hurt you, afraid he won’t be worthy of that look you give him, that trusting one that says you’ll give him anything he wants or needs—even if it puts you in danger. He knows he doesn’t deserve that. He could never be worthy of that.” His voice was heavy and raw, raking over every inch of her.

“Van.” God, she loved the way his name felt in her mouth, falling into the air from her lips and dancing in the tiny space between them.

“Yeah?” He swallowed hard, seemingly recovering from the panic of witnessing her almost being trampled.

She reached up with her hands and touched his smooth jaw. He’d shaved recently. And she was pretty sure he hadn’t shaved to come help out with the horses.

“You shaved for me?”

A small grin tugged at his masculine mouth. “Perhaps.”

“Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need from me. I’m ready for that list now.”

Eyes the color of the early morning sky began to glow with the heat her invitation provoked. “No, you’re not, Stella Jo. And for that matter, neither am I.”

“Please,” she practically whimpered.

She couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t handle the constant tension that pulled her so tight she was about to snap in half. Her body craved a release. A release in the form of Van Ransom using what she could imagine were well-acquired skills. All that confidence he carried was a result of more than just musical abilities—she’d bet her paycheck on it.

A low guttural sound rumbled through his chest and escaped his throat. “I came down here to help out with whatever you needed. Let’s focus on that for now.”

I need you. The thought came unbidden, and she put furious effort into ignoring it.

She sighed her disappointment as he released her. A breeze blew across them and she shivered. Being in Van Ransom’s arms was dangerously addicting. Being out of them left her feeling bereft.

What she needed, apparently, was this mysterious man and anything and everything he could give her. But he was holding out on her, finally listening to words she wished she hadn’t said.

“Okay,” she said softly. The skin-searing shame that blanketed her as he stepped away warmed her considerably. “See if Mother Maybelle will let you wipe her down a bit. She’s dusty.” Stella nodded to some towels nearby, and Van moved over to grab one.

Her face was still flushed from the pathetic scene she’d made, so she kept her head down as she led Shadowdancer to the pasture. When she returned to the stables, she lowered onto all fours and cleaned up her mess. Grabbing the sponge, she did her best to soak up the water that had spilled. With each swipe, she prayed tears wouldn’t fall from her eyes.

A few moments later, she heard the heavy thud of his boots coming toward her.

“Stand up, Cinderella. I’ll take care of that.”

His voice sounded gravelly and almost choked. As if it were taking considerable effort just for him to speak. She looked up and met his wild stare.

“Please get up. I’m trying very hard to behave myself. You on your knees is not helping matters.”

So he does want me then? Her head swam from the mixed signals he was constantly sending.

Glancing down, she realized that most of her body was drenched. If he wanted her half as much as she wanted him, seeing her in nearly transparent and dripping-wet clothing wasn’t going to help either of them.

Well, screw it. The man had obviously decided nothing was happening between them tonight. If she had to writhe in aching misery, then he could too.

She stood slowly, keeping her eyes on his so she could watch him as he drank her in.

“You’re the devil,” was all he said.

“Perhaps.”

His tongue flicked out to his lips, and she stared openly. “Come here.”

Two words. Two very simple and perfectly commonplace words stripped her of every protective layer she held. Layers she’d built up over the years. Each step she took in his direction rid her of another one. By the time she reached him, she might as well have been stark naked.

A strong hand reached out and gripped her chin. Desire sparked brightly inside of her until flames began to lick at every inch of her body. The heat in his eyes matched the burning blaze encompassing her entire being.

“You. Aren’t. Ready.”

She shook her head violently in an attempt to escape his grasp. Tears stung her eyes. He’d lured her back into his tangled web just to reject her. Again.

His fingers pressed tighter, denting deeper.

“But when you are,” he continued, “I am going to fuck you. And when I do, it’s going to be so deep and thorough that men will be able to smell me on you from miles away. I am going to fuck a path inside of you, a path in which only my dick will fit. Because once I’ve been inside you, you will belong to me. Understood?”

Her knees went weak as her entire body began to tremble.

“Now,” she stammered out. “I want you now.”