That was why he was attempting to ignore his first instinct.
“You want to hand me that rope, or are you going to hang yourself with it?” Rye stared at him, his hand out.
Stef passed him the rope, but thought seriously about hanging him with it. Asshole. Rye had it all. Rye had a wife and a brother and a baby on the way. Rye never fucked things up the way Stef did. If Rye had been Jen’s lover, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Rye rarely questioned himself, and his easy confidence was pricking at Stef’s finely held temper. Still, he’d come here to look specifically for Rye.
He was restless, utterly uneasy, a need rolling in him that was going to find its way out. He’d realized he could pick a fight with Max or Zane or he could try…talking about his feelings. He just wasn’t sure where to start. “Here you go.”
Rye took the rope and started to put together the corral. He and Max were expanding their pony rides. It had been a big hit yesterday, with long lines of kids waiting to ride the gentle horses. Stef couldn’t help but think about the fact that it wouldn’t be too long before Rye’s son would be learning to ride. Rye’s son would grow up in Bliss. He would run wild in the wilderness with his brothers and sisters like Stef and Max and Rye had.
The image of his own kids running around Bliss and sleeping on the mountain made his heart feel too big for his chest. He would have told anyone who asked that he didn’t want kids, but he’d lain awake last night thinking about the fact that Max and Rye’s and Callie’s kids would be here soon. Everyone was talking about the fact that Callie was pregnant. He wanted kids. He wanted his and Jennifer’s babies to grow up with their cousins.
“Are you going to talk about it or just brood?” Rye asked as he pulled on the knot he’d tied.
Brooding hadn’t gotten him anywhere. “I’m afraid.” Rye tipped back his hat and placed one hand on his hip. “I know you are. You’ve always been afraid of this.” Stef was startled by the statement. “What does that mean? I’ve never had a real relationship until I met Jen.” Rye nodded. “That would be my point. Hell, even Max had a girlfriend or two. I’ve known you most of my life, Stef. The truth is I don’t remember much of a time before I knew you. I watched you push away most people.”
“I didn’t push away you and Max or Callie.”
“We’re safe. You needed us, and we needed you. And you made damn sure we needed you, Stef.”
Stef felt himself pull away. Without meaning to, he even took a step back. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Stef, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but it’s become a habit with you, and it needs to stop. You buy people’s affection, at least that’s what you think you’re doing. We met during the summer. I remember it like it was yesterday. When Max, Callie, and I were going to have to go back to school, what did you do?” God, he felt like he was fucking eight years old again. Vulnerable.
Needy. Desperate to keep his newfound friends. “I asked my dad to bring in a tutor because the bus trip was so long into Del Norte.”
“Is that really why you did it?”
Stef shook his head. He remembered, too. He remembered pleading with his father. He hadn’t needed to. His dad had been more than happy to do it. His father had paid for tutors for the Bliss kids from that point on. “No. I was afraid the three of you would get to school and find other friends, and I would be out.”
“I know, brother.” Rye walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I know that’s why you did it. I know that’s why you built the town hall, and that’s why you give loans to anyone in town who needs one and never charge interest or even ask them to repay you.” The money didn’t bother Stef. His father had set up a trust fund Stef would never be able to get through in one lifetime. “If they can, they will. If they can’t, then I won’t miss the money.”
“Stef, you throw money around this town.” King Stefan. He could hear Jen say the words in his head.
Pathetic. He was still a little boy trying to tie people to his side.
Another voice spoke up as Max walked around the side of the trailer. “Man, you have to know that we don’t love you because you paid for our school.”
Max’s face was bunched up, his brows forming a V over concerned eyes.
“He knows,” Rye said with more confidence than Stef felt. “He just lets a lot of the past get in the way. Stef is real damn good about figuring out everyone else’s motivations. Just not so smart when it comes to his own.”
“Is that why Rach keeps calling him a dumbass?” Stef felt himself stiffen. “Your wife has very little respect for me.” Rye shook his head, a little laugh escaping his lips. “Our wife loves you very much. She just thinks you’re wrong about Jen. I remember the day she walked into town looking for you. She wanted art lessons or something.”
“She’d made a study of my work. She wanted me to mentor her.” Stef had taught her a few things, just nothing of value. He hadn’t taught her how much he loved her.
“She tracked you down to the diner.”
Max smiled at the memory, obviously caught in it. “Stella thought she’d have to toss you out. You two sat there for eight hours talking and arguing.”
He’d been in love with her about twenty minutes after meeting her. She’d been so vibrant. She’d argued with him about the importance of the Impressionists and held several wrong views of the eminent Jackson Pollock, but he’d been utterly fascinated with her, hanging on to her every word.
“And the next day, you told her politely that you didn’t teach art and holed up in your studio for three weeks,” Max said.
He’d brooded. He’d worked. He’d done just about anything to avoid that girl with the killer smile and a saucy comeback to everything he said. He’d been afraid of her then. He was terrified now. Only now, he was starting to be more afraid of being without her.
“You think you’re sending her away because you want her to have the things she needs, but, Stef, damn, you’re trying to make her grateful to you. Can’t you see this is the same thing? You think you can buy her a career and she’ll be happy and grateful, and she won’t leave you because you made it possible.” Max nodded sharply. “Rach is right. He’s a dumbass. Jen already loves him. No woman puts up with the shit he’s shoveled out if they aren’t in love.”
“He thinks she’s too young, but she isn’t. He thinks she wants some megapowerful career, but she doesn’t,” Rye said. “She wants to live here in Bliss and paint and have a happy life with the man she loves. You took me aside the day I finally got together with Rachel, and do you remember what you said to me?”
“I said she’s ready.” Stef felt his heart seize. What if she really was ready? What if he was just a dumbass who let his past hold him back? What if he chucked that past aside and went after what he wanted?
Rye and Max looked at each other, doing that weird twin thing they’d always done, as though, at times, they spoke to each other without saying a word. “She’s ready, Stef. Go get your girl,” they said in perfect harmony.
A blanket dropped over Stef’s soul, a warm, perfect feeling of complete certainty. She was his. He was hers. They didn’t have to follow anyone’s path but the one they set themselves. She wouldn’t leave. If she wanted to see the world, she would turn to him and tell him to show it to her. And he would. If she wanted to show in galleries, she would turn to him and ask him to help her. And he would.
He was her slave, and she would never leave him behind.
“I’ve got to find her.” Now that he’d made the decision, he couldn’t stand the thought of a moment going by without telling her.
Telling her? Hell, he’d probably have to beg her. Maybe if he offered to turn the trip to Paris into a honeymoon, just maybe, she wouldn’t attempt to cut off his balls with a rusty knife.
“She was with Rachel and Callie. They were heading to the diner,” Rye said.
Nope. She was with Rachel. She would definitely try to cut his balls off. He smiled at the thought. Jen was a lot like Rachel, brave and unwilling to take a bunch of crap from anyone. Except him. She’d taken his crap for a while now, and he swore he’d never give it to her again. He had other things he wanted to give.
The phone in his pocket rang. Stef reached in and pulled it out, hoping it was Jen. It wasn’t. He slid the bar to answer the phone anyway, stepping away from Max and Rye. He wouldn’t ignore this call.
“Finn, what’s up? Have you managed to get the charges dropped?” Stef wanted the answer to be yes. Before this moment, he’d been willing to let justice move slowly. Jen couldn’t start her new life until the charges against her were cleared. Now that her new life would be with him, Stef wanted that cloud out of the way. He was doing it again. He was trying to give her what she wanted, what she needed, so she would be grateful. He wasn’t going to change. He would always move heaven and earth to get her what she wanted. But from now on, he would make damn sure it really was what she wanted. “Give me some good news, man.”
“The charges are dropped.” Finn’s voice came over the phone loud and clear. “The DA filed the papers this morning. As of 8:00
a.m., your girl is free and clear.”
Stef clenched his fist in victory. Now nothing loomed over them.
They were both free and clear. “Finn, you’ve done an excellent job.
Please let your Master know just how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I’ll talk to my father about transferring some of Talbot Industries’ legal work your way. We’re always getting sued for something.”
Finn laughed over the phone. “Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Talbot, I would love the work, but I didn’t really have much of a hand in this.
The police found the painting.”
“What do you mean they found the painting?” Stef stopped, his feet halting as though a wall had been thrown up in front of him. The painting was supposed to be here. Why had those Russians come to Bliss and taken Jen if they weren’t looking for the painting? “The police found the Picasso?”
“Yes, it was hidden in a vault at the gallery. I have no idea what kind of games Renard was playing, but they go deep. The police have connected him to the mob, believe it or not.” A cold feeling stole over Stef that had nothing to do with the temperature. “The Russian mob.”
“Yes, apparently Renard did odd jobs for them. The Russians have started to make a fortune selling masterpieces lost during World War II. They turn up now, and the mob is selling them on the black market for extravagant sums. Apparently Renard served as a go-between. Guess he screwed up somewhere.” Finn sounded very confident, even as Stef felt his stomach doing a triple loop dive straight to his feet. “And tell Jennifer that while going through Renard’s records, we found an order for one of her paintings. Renard was holding it for a buyer. It looks like she’s doing well. Twenty-five-thousand dollars is a lot for a new artist. Maybe she can still talk to the buyer, now that she’s out of this mess.” But she wasn’t. Oh, she wasn’t even close to being out of it. She was right in the middle, and she didn’t even know why or what they were really coming after her for, though Stef had a horrible idea.
Without pausing to say good-bye to Max and Rye, Stef took off running for the diner. He had to find her and find that painting.
Jen sniffled and dragged great breaths of air into her lungs as she sat in a booth at the diner.
“Asshole.” Rachel slapped at the table in a much-appreciated show of female solidarity. Rachel had shown up at Callie’s cabin just as Jen and Callie had gotten back from Stef’s. The women had commiserated with Jen before Rachel announced she needed breakfast.
“He’s my best friend, but I’m going with you on this one, Rach.
Asshole.” Callie’s sweet voice always sounded odd when she cursed.
“Fucking asshole.” Zane’s did not. Zane sounded perfectly comfortable calling Stef all sorts of vulgar names. His huge frame dominated the booth at Stella’s.
Jen felt stupid. She was crying in the middle of a diner. She’d managed to hold on to her self-esteem for a little while. She’d gotten to Callie’s. She’d moved her pitiful belongings into the loft, climbing up the ladder into Callie’s childhood room. There was a cot on the floor and a small dresser. She’d sat on the cot and stared out at the mountain knowing Stef was sitting in his place. Jen had sat there for an hour wondering if he even noticed she was gone.
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