The Wild One (7 page)

But she could feel the eyes of the appropriately dressed guests on her, and for the first time in a very long time, she felt uncomfortable in her wardrobe. With a sudden ache, she missed Mabel all over again. It was so hard to believe she was really gone, and that she’d never see her again.

She sent up a silent prayer that her friend was at peace and had hopefully been put on guardian angel duty, because she’d make a great one. Then she let herself enjoy the Montana night.

Unlike New York in the summer time, which could just about swelter a girl to death with all the traffic and the looming buildings throwing off sticky heat, Montana was perfect. Not too hot, with a lovely breeze passing through, making it just the right amount of comfortable as Jeb told his story.

But all too soon, the last story was told, and it was time to go. Roxxy walked back to Andrew’s house alone, her shoes in one hand, and nothing but the sound of crickets to keep her company. It felt glorious. No papers to turn in. No text messages or emails to return. No large audience to keep entertained. No one telling her to stand here, do this, rehearse that. Just her and the huge expanse of starry night sky.

Her only order of business when she got home was to don the robe and throw her clothes in a washing machine so she’d have them for the next day. This time, though, she decided to hang them on the line to dry. She had no idea how long she’d be stuck in this outfit, which was technically, dry-clean only, so best not to expose it to too much heat. She chuckled as she hung the clothes on a line in Andrew’s backyard, wondering what Mabel would do if she could see her now, actually taking care of her clothes as opposed to sleeping in them.

But then she felt someone’s eyes on her. She turned around and caught Andrew at the window, watching her. He must have just gotten home.

She raised her hand and waved, thinking of the man Mrs. Garcia and so many of the staff had described to her that day. But this Andrew didn’t wave back. In fact, he scowled before turning away from the window. Moments later, the kitchen light flicking off was the only proof he’d ever been at the window at all.

CHAPTER 8

TELLING
Layla she could stay as long as she wanted had been a mistake, and Andrew was kicking himself for it. It had only been one day, but having her in such close proximity was driving him crazy and he couldn’t understand why.

Even when they’d dated in college, he’d had no problem being a complete gentleman with her. He’d respected that she was a virgin and hadn’t pressured her to consummate their relationship, even though he wouldn’t have minded taking their make-out sessions further. He hadn’t cared that she was black or from a much poorer background. She was unlike any other girl he’d ever dated, and he just wanted to be with her.

Even after she’d left town, he’d thought of her more fondly than lustfully. And when she’d shown up in Pittsburgh years later, right after he’d decided to divorce his first wife, he had hoped for a fresh start between them. That she’d chosen his brother once again over him had stuck in his craw, but he’d done the honorable thing and blessed their union, even stood up for Nathan at their wedding. However, it had taken months of building up the Sinclair Ranch before he was able to truly be happy for them.

He had decided he and Layla had been better friends than lovers. He had decided she made his brother a better man and their marriage would thrive. He had decided he wanted her to be happy and he should move on.

So why then had he been hard as a rock all day? Why couldn’t he even be in the same room with her without his dick jumping in his pants, practically begging its master to take her right then and there?

Layla had changed. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been just as gentle and sweet as the college girl he remembered. But the Layla he’d found stumbling through the parking lot had an edge to her. It wasn’t just the alcohol. It was something else, the way she wore her uncharacteristic mini skirt like it was a work uniform as opposed to wildly inappropriate. The shrewd, knowing look that came over her face when she told him his kiss “didn’t read ‘totally over the girl.’”

And then there was the way her slightly rounded hips moved underneath the skirt whenever she walked. At least the robe left something to the imagination. Watching her walk in stilettos to the main lodge from his office window had nearly sent him over the edge. His dick had gotten so hard as he imagined all the ways he might fuck her. Not make love to her, but fuck her hard and strong like a disease he was trying to get out of his system. Nothing like the soft-toned boyhood fantasies from their college years. No, now he wanted to ravage and consume her in a few ways that might not be strictly legal in the state of Montana.

That night he saw a glimpse of a breast underneath her guest robe as she was hanging her clothes to dry. Afterward, he’d had to take himself in his own hand. And even though he tried to imagine Amy as he worked his cock, as soon as he closed his eyes it had been all Layla, bending over in her mini skirt and smiling back at him, bidding him do whatever he wanted to do to her naked pussy, which he’d discovered this morning was completely bald, as if she had shaved it all off in anticipation of seeing him.

He cursed as streams of hot cum erupted all over his hand. He’d hoped that would be it. But then the house creaked, which let him know she was still up and moving around downstairs, probably still dressed in that thin robe. His dick instantly became hard again.

Yes, letting Layla stay had been a mistake. A big, big mistake.

ROXXY REALLY ENJOYED RANCH LIFE. By day two she’d not only lassoed a pig all by herself, but had taken two more nature walks and spent much of the day with the children’s program, making Native American arts and crafts, playing croquet and Frisbee, and learning how to fly fish.

Most of the adults at the ranch seemed perfectly happy to leave their kids to their own activities while they enjoyed the ranch’s spa and other amenities. Roxxy assumed this must be because they’d had an actual childhood, unlike her who had been lazily homeschooled by her mother so she could spend as much time as possible going from one singing audition to another.

Roxxy had been grateful when she got her first record contract at sixteen because the label had provided her with a real teacher who actually taught her things. But she’d never been able to do the really fun stuff like arts and crafts or play games with other children, and she found herself more than enjoying her time with the children’s program.

If the other staff members thought her continued presence strange, they didn’t acknowledge it, maybe because she was a “guest of Mr. Andrew” or maybe because she played so hard with the kids, it actually made their jobs easier. And the one nice thing about racial stereotyping was that most of the parents seemed way more comfortable with the strangely dressed black woman in a service position as opposed to as a fellow guest. A few of them even gave her friendly hellos at dinner that night.

Mrs. Garcia informed her during their lunch together that Andrew made it a point to eat with the staff in the main lodge on Wednesdays. “But I can stay and cook you dinner again if you want.”

“No, no,” she said. “I can eat at the main lodge, too.”

However, when she got to the staff table with her plate filled with all sorts of yummy-looking food from the country-style buffet, she began to see the holes in her plan. The rest of the staff greeted her warmly and assured her it was totally fine to sit with them. They even made room for her on the bench, so she could sit between Andrew and Elena, the woman who ran the children’s program.

However, for quite a few moments after she sat down, Andrew looked like he was fighting the impulse to take his plate and get up from the table. But then he blinked hard, apparently having made the calculated decision to act like he wasn’t repulsed by her presence. Instead, he proceeded to ignore her for the entire meal.

But strangely enough, Roxxy didn’t mind because that was how she finally came to meet the other Andrew, the one everyone at the ranch had been raving about. Over dinner he was charming and engaged, asking after many of the staff-members’ children and listening attentively to any problems they were having in their positions. By the time he had cleared his plate, he’d agreed to stop by the stables to make a hard decision about one of the older horses and also speak with a guest who kept insisting on pinching the butts of the female wait staff whenever they brought him drinks.

When he got up to leave, so did Roxxy, but he chose that moment to speak to her for the first time that day. “No, stay. Try the peach cobbler. It’s the best in Montana. Best in the nation I think, but officially it’s only been awarded the prize for best in state.”

The staff around the table laughed at his little joke, and they called out a chorus of hearty good nights as he left. But Roxxy knew better. The invitation to try dessert had been another slight on his part, even if no one else could see it.

Still, she rallied after he was gone and got to talking to Elena about the children’s program.

“I’d loved to have come out here when I was kid,” Roxxy told her.

“Me too,” Elena said. “I’m just sad more kids can’t afford the opportunity. But that’s why Andrew’s headed to Washington D.C. in a couple of weeks. He’s got a few grant meetings about turning the old Hagstead farm into a summer camp for underprivileged kids. But he’s have a heck of time getting ready for them. Last week he said just getting through the paperwork to get non-profit status for the farm has been a way bit more complicated than he expected.”

Roxxy’s eyes lit up. “Really? I was actually thinking about going to school for public administration, which involves a lot of non-profit course work.”

Jeb frowned. “I thought you were a physical therapist. That’s what all the newspapers said.”

Roxxy lifted her eyebrows. Oh, so that was what the mysterious Layla did for a living.

“Um, yeah, I am,” she said. “But lately I’ve been thinking about changing career paths.”

Jeb, accepting that answer. “Was a lawyer myself in Helena, before I accepted the call of the wild.”

Roxxy smiled. “Cool! Then you’ll have to tell me how you did it. I need all the advice I can get.”

As it turned out, a lot of the staff had done other things before coming to Sinclair Ranch. “The hotel industry can be like that, attracting people from all different walks of life,” Elena, who taught fourth grade in Buellton during the school year, told her. “But you know that already, since Andrew was still an executive at Sinclair Steel when everything went down between you and his wife.”

A hush came over the table and everyone seemed to shoot daggers at Elena. Apparently they’d all been talking about whatever happened between Layla and Andrew’s dead wife behind her back, but it wasn’t considered polite to actually bring it up to “Layla” herself.

“Yeah, he was,” Roxxy said, trying to lighten the mood. “But I don’t want to take
that
big of a leap. I was thinking about maybe finding some rich rock star to work for and doing some charitable foundation work.”

This was actually mostly true. They just didn’t realize
she
was the rich rock star and that the money for her foundation would be coming out of her own coffers.

That seemed to bring back the former mood and people started talking about what charitable things they would do if they had rock star money.

All in all, it turned out to be a nice dinner, and it was even nicer to have people to sit with at that night’s bonfire. But all too soon, it became time for her to walk home barefoot and alone.

She once again washed her outfit and hung it up on the line. When she came back to the house, she spotted Andrew’s cowboy hat hanging on it’s hook in the living room, which meant he’d once again arrived while she was outside. But this time, he hadn’t bothered to come to the window or even say good night.

Whatever. Roxxy pushed the insult away and went into the kitchen to make some warm tea, which she’d learned the night before to drink alone. It had taken three cups just to calm down enough to attempt sleeping in her bedroom. And after hours of fitful dozing, she’d had a nightmare about Steve Kass. In it, he was lying on the floor with blood coming out his mouth and nose, just like Mabel. She’d come awake on the edge of a scream, and there had been no getting back to sleep after that.

And as jittery as she was feeling at the moment, she doubted that night would be any better as far as convincing herself to attempt sleep again was concerned.

Except that night, Andrew showed up at the living room entrance to the kitchen about two hours into her nighttime pacing session, while she was making her fourth cup of tea.

“What are you doing?” he asked from the doorway, sounding more like he was making an accusation than asking a question.

“I love Montana,” she answered. “But I’m having trouble sleeping here. I think it’s the crickets.”

“This house is old, leftover from before the renovations. When you move around down here I can hear you upstairs.”

“Sorry,” Roxxy said. “I’ll just take my tea up to my bedroom.”

“And what happens if you still can’t get to sleep?”

“Then I come back down here and make myself another cup of tea, I guess. Maybe try and read a book, since there’s no television or internet here. I’m not really used to not having something to do at night.”

His eyes clouded over at that. “You miss your old life.”

“No,” Roxxy said, though she was aware they were talking about two different things entirely. “I don’t miss my old life at all. It’s just that Montana is really dark and crickety. Not what I’m used to.”

He gave his head a tired shake. “I’ve got a conference call first thing tomorrow morning. I’m not going to let you keep me up all night, again. I need to be on the ball.”

“I wasn’t trying to keep you up,” Roxxy said through gritted teeth. “Just let me get my cup of tea and I’ll—“

He turned off the stove and took her by the arm. “Come on,” he said.

“Where are we going?” she asked.