Page 65 of Live for Me

He shot me a smirk. “Figured it was the least I could do since you fixed my sink.”

“The least you could do,” I muttered in disbelief as I walked back into the living room, across the foyer, and into the dining room. “As if the fucking man hasn’t let his ranch become my fucking home.”

I stood at the head of the six-seater table, admiring the two windows, the sunlight trickling in, highlighting the wood grain. Denver cleared his throat from behind me, and I looked over my shoulder. He tilted his head. “There’s an office right there,” he informed me as I looked over to the closed door in the corner.

Moving to it, I held my breath.

I pulled the door open and was greeted with a view of one of the many streams that ran down the Langstons’ mountain, nestled in the woods behind the cabin. The back wall of the office was windows, mix and matched, the trim of the windows painted different shades of greens, blues, yellows, and oranges. In the center of the wall was a pair of antique French doors, the light pink trim stirring something inside me. The sunlight wasn’t direct in this room, but the natural light was addicting. I turned, finding an antique desk and chair perched in the corner. I bit down, grinding my teeth.

Fuck me, she would’ve been in this room for hours at a time, getting lost in her paintings. I would’ve had to drag her out for dinner. I knew that down to my bones.

My wildflower would’ve loved this room; a vase for her to bloom and grow in.

I didn’t say anything as I turned, shutting the office door and heading up stairs. The master had a king bed and as I stared at it, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept in a bed that wasn’t my cot in the bunkhouse. The second bedroom was directly above the office, having the same view of the stream. There was aqueen bed and a small bedside table. The bathroom was nothing special, and I knew Abbie would hate the white walls.

She would have to make do.

Then, when all this shit was over, she could go back to her house in the big city, filled with the colors that made her comfortable.

Ten minutes later, I was back in the saddle, flying through the fields, heading back to the main house with Denver on my tail.

Chapter Sixteen

Abbie

“Hi.”

I turned, finding Denver Langston’s wife standing in the kitchen, a stack of files in her hands. I blinked, awestruck by herbeauty. She was tall like me but with more prominent curves. Her dark hair was tied up into an elegant bun on top of her head, a pen tucked behind her ear. She was dressed in a simple lilac dress that stopped mid-calf, the fabric bringing out her green eyes.

I’d been standing in the same spot for the last ten minutes, staring at the front door, unsure of what to do. After Beau left, I ended up on the floor in a mess of tears. My dignity only allowed me two minutes of that before forcing me to my feet. I’d never felt so helpless—so confused.

I didn’t bother painting on a fake smile. I didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore. My mind was running in a million different directions.

“Hi,” I returned.

“I’m Valerie.” Her voice was sweet, southern.

I nodded. “I know.”

Her green eyes dropped down, taking in my appearance, studying me without a shred of judgment in them. “I heard you had a hell of morning,” she began as she met my eyes again. Yeah, she’d heard Beau and me arguing. She heard everything. Heat drifted up to my cheeks, and I cleared my throat, looking anywhere but her.

“You hungry? Harmony should be here in a minute with a late lunch.”

I didn’t even have the energy to lie to her. “Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you,” I told her softly.

She gave me a thin smile and turned around, heading for the butcher block island. “I’m sorry I didn’t come out here sooner. I’m tied up with a bunch of legal paperwork, leasing agreements and stuff,” she explained to me over her shoulder as she set the stack of papers down.

“It’s okay,” I told her, my curiosity almost getting the best of me. I tamped down the questions popping up in my head, mybrain looking for the story behind her word and the files. “Could I borrow your phone? I have no idea where mine is. and I need to make a call.”

Valerie turned to me, smirking. “You aren’t going to try and run away. are you? I know Harm helped you, but—”

“I’m not running anymore,” I told her. “I just need to call my boss.”

“The Denver Tribune, right?” she asked.

Jesus, did everyone on this ranch know about my career?

I cleared my throat. “Yes. I’ve been there for a few years now, and I would like to keep my job.”

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