Page 20 of Stormy Knight

Grabbing her phone, she headed into the bathroom. Setting her phone on the counter, she opened up a music app and hit play. Leaning over the tub’s edge, she turned on the water. While the tub filled, she made use of the toilet. The cowhide rug under her feet was an added accent to the very western décor of the spacious room. The double glass door in front of her showed off the large shower.

The stone work matched the accent wall behind the large soaker tub. The ceiling was planked with a steer horned chandelier as its centerpiece. It was both rugged and beautiful.

Two oversized armless chairs flanked a small table. Stormy wondered why a man would need chairs in their bathroom. Probably to watch the multiple women he brought home bathe. Moving to the tub, she shut off the water and stepped in. As she submerged her aching body into the wealth of hot water, she moaned.

The hot water enveloped her, soothing the tension in her muscles as the steam rose around her. Stormy leaned back, her head resting against the smooth ceramic edge of the tub, eyes closed as she let the heat work its magic. The music from her phone played softly in the background, setting a calm, almost dreamlike atmosphere.

She let out a deep sigh as the warmth sank deeper into her bones. Her thoughts drifted, and the extravagant décor of the bathroom caught her attention again. The ruggedness of it all, so distinctly masculine, seemed to fit with the owner’s larger-than-life personality, though the odd mix of luxury and western elements felt strangely comforting in its own way.

She snorted softly to herself at her earlier observation about the chairs.Watching women bathe?Maybe she was overthinking it. Still, the idea of a man, especially a wealthy one, creating a space like this, complete with strategic seating, made her wonder. She’d ask Whiskey about the chairs. Her fingersgrazed the edge of the tub as her mind wandered back to the chaos of her own life. This was the kind of place that begged for a story.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of her phone vibrating against the stone counter. She frowned but didn’t move to check it. Instead, her gaze drifted to the intricate stonework on the wall and the massive shower across from her. The type of shower where two people could fit comfortably, perhaps more.

Definitely more.

The thought lingered for a moment, but she dismissed it, taking a deep breath and letting the warmth of the bath flood her senses again. Her body sank deeper, washing away any lingering doubts about the choices she’d made recently. She deserved a moment like this to think.

Reeves walked through the house annoyed with the phone call he’d just had with Mario Serrano. Seemed they had their minds made up they wanted to use the Salvadors’ routes to ship their illegal goods through. He’d told Mario emphatically no. If he found out the Serranos moved forward with this, it would be war. Some things never changed, except things had changed. He and his brothers weren’t green anymore. They were older and much wiser now. The years had made them grow up faster. Made them hardened men.

If Mario and the Torres’ boss didn’t stop causing problems, they would be removed from power. He had a couple of aces in his pocket by the names of Franco Marcello and Francis Martinelli.

Bringing his coffee cup up to his lips, he noticed it was empty. Stopping as he walked past the library, he entered the room to look at the pictures on the wall. There on the wall was a duplicate picture of the one from the Mob Museum. Staring at his father, one word came to mind like always.Cowboy.

Movement outside his window had him peering out for a second. He caught sight of the ranch hands moving cattle across the back fields. The ranch hands, steady as ever, guided the cattle with quiet authority. Their figures moved in harmony with the land, just as the pump jacks did in the distance.

The old machines, with their slow, deliberate motion, were a reminder of the days when his father had kept the place alive with grit and perseverance. The iron soldiers, as he thought of them, had been the backbone of the family’s wealth, the constant that kept the legacy in motion. At least that’s what some people saw when they looked out at Devil’s Perch.

He could almost hear his father’s voice, roughened by years of the same hard work. That sound, the slow pull, the creak of old steel… was more than just the extraction of oil; it was the heartbeat of everything that had been built here. For a moment, he let his gaze linger on the pump jacks, watching them work in their unchanging, unhurried way.

There was a quiet comfort in their repetition, but also a certain weight. He was part of something much larger than himself now… whether he liked it or not.

Five minutes later, Reeves walked into his bedroom and noticed the bed was empty. Then he heard music coming from the bathroom. Smiling, he headed in that direction. Reeves continued to smile seeing Stormy laying in the tub with her eyes closed. He thoroughly enjoyed the view. Leaning against the doorjamb, he took a few more minutes to watch her before he spoke.

“I thought you’d packed up and left.” Reeves said from his perch against the doorframe. He laughed when Stormy jumped, causing herself to slip further down into the water. When she hoisted herself back up, he continued laughing.

“Stormy. Do you need help?” he asked with a bite of humor.

She’d been laying in the tub relaxing in the hot water. She told herself several times to get out, but the tub was perfect. The only thing that would have made it better would have been Reeves joining her. Now she looked like a drowned rat. “No! I’m perfectly capable of drowning myself.”

Reeves shook his head. “That would be a damn shame.” Taking a step forward, “Stormy,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “If you stay in there much longer, I might just forget I’m supposed to be working.”

Stormy didn’t immediately respond, her smile the only indication she had heard him. The warm water rippled gently around her, and the steam hung thick in the air, filling the room with a soft, relaxed vibe. “Well,” she said with a playful tilt of her head.

“No,” he replied, stepping closer until he was at the edge of the tub. “Not at all.”

There was a playful pause between them, the kind where words weren’t necessary. But Reeves couldn’t resist pushing just a little.

“You know,” he started with a grin, “if you wanted to get me really distracted, you could always invite me in.”

“Would you like to join me… Reeves?”

Crouching down, he leaned in and kissed her. “I think breakfast is ready.” Reaching around he grabbed a towel so Stormy could get out.

“You think, or you know? If I get out and it’s not done, I’ll be disappointed in you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, because you made me get out.” Shoving up she let the water run down her body before stepping out of the tub. She didn’t miss how his eyes raked over her body as she rose from the water. Reeves remained crouched as she looked down at him.

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