Page 24 of Stormy Knight

“What do you want to do?”

“After we get the Serranos’ dealt with, I’d like to be the consigliere in its true form. No more handling business myself.”

“You can stop dealing with that now. We have capos and soldiers that can deal with any problems.” It wasn’t too late for Reeves to find his way back, Jackson thought. “But I’d love for you to continue cooking at La Familia”,” he joked.

“I’ll never give that up. It relaxes me.”

“I love our Sunday meetings at the restaurant.”

“Maybe we could start having family dinners there once a month.”

“I think that would be great.” Were they changing things? Was this the change he’d been wanting, or was this one of those moments he’d hold on to when others faded to the recesses of his mind?

“Reeves, you can always come to me. I’ll always listen.”

“I know. It’s been something I needed to figure out for myself. Now that I have, I’ve clued you in.” He smirked. “One more thing. I think the meeting with the other families should be handled at Bandara.”

“I agree.” Jackson nodded, slapping Reeves on the shoulder before leaving him alone with his thoughts. “By the way, this room would make a great office for Stormy to work in”,” he added before disappearing into the hall.

Reeves chuckled hearing his brothers’ words. “Yes. I think it would, too”,” he said to the empty room.

13

Stormy wandered the property annoyed, aggravated, and at a loss. She thought being there… staying hold up in the ladies sitting room, yet she hadn’t managed to pull a story out of the air. All that she’d accomplished since being at the ranch was throwing herself at Reeves at every opportunity. When had she become a woman who needed the approval of a man? That needed the attention to make her feel whole.

She stopped when she faced the stone building at the back of the gardens. The small chapel was a place of both happiness and heartache. Maybe she could find some answers inside.

Shoving open the ornate wooden door, she slipped inside and let it close behind her. The sound of the heavy door closing had her feeling trapped. Silliness, she could open and walk out as easy as she came in.

She came to this place of peace searching for clarity, trying to make sense of a love that was both elusive and incomplete. The solitude she found only added to her emotions. Away from the noise of the house—or the complications of the relationships within it. It felt like her heart was invested in someone whodidn’t fully feel the same way. The feeling left her torn, unsure, and longing for something more.

Stormy stood there in the little chapel, wrestling with the question: What was it about Reeves that made her want to stay, even with him holding back? Picking up a match from the holder, then striking it, she watched the blue tip burst into a bright yellow. Holding it over a single candle, she watched the one tiny flame unite with the wick. The two flared to life becoming brighter, stronger, it flickered for a second almost going out, then in an instant steadied. She needed to decide whether to keep waiting on Reeves to make up his mind or let go for good.

He’d swept her away from the chaos and danger, brought her to his home, made her feel like she was finallysafe. But safety didn’t feel like this… not when it was built on promises that could disappear in a blink of an eye.

Was it just another way for him to toy with her? To keep her guessing?

How much of it was her own insecurity? How much of it was her naivety? How much of it had been him playing her for a fool? Playing on her need for connection, her hunger for something real? Her desire to be his?

Don’t fall for it again, Stormy,she told herself firmly, her voice a whisper in her mind.Don’t let him do this to you.But she’d already fallen… already let him in.

What if she stayed open to the possibility of more? What if Reeves did care?

The emptiness left by Reeves’ distance had Stormy desperate to the point of screaming.

Disappointment hung on her like an old, worn-out shirt. She would leave. She’d find a way to stand on her own two feet again, no matter how long it took.

And when she finally did leave, Reeves Salvador—whatever his true intentions were—would be a distant memory. Deep down where it counted… where no one could see… she recognized it for the lie it was.

She’d have to let Whiskey down gently, so not to hurt her. Surely her best friend would understand. Would want the best for her. Sighing, Stormy stepped back from the small alter and sat down on the front pew.

Sitting there with her emotions weighing on her, she watched as the bright flame of the candle became a stark light of disappointment. The glow now dimmed, losing its luster. Maybe it was a sign her relationship, or whatever this thing between her and Reeves was, had lost its luster as well.

She couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that maybe itwasall part of some well-rehearsed script—a dance of seduction with no real meaning. The thought made her stomach twist. As a romance author, hadn’t shewrittenthis exact scenario more times than she could count? The brooding hero who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, only in the end to reveal the heroine was nothing more than a fleeting distraction. A plot device to get from one chapter to the next?

This is exactly how it goes,she thought bitterly.The hero comes in, sweeps you off your feet, makes you feel safe. Makes you feel as if you’re the only person in the world. And then, when you start to believe it—when you start to trust it—he walks away without a word. Without a trace.

Her hand pressed over her eyes, trying to block out the sting of the truth. Sheshouldknow better. As an author, she’d written this same damn plot in at least three of her books. She’d created characters who fell for the wrong person, characters who let themselves be swept away only to crash hard when the other person didn’t feel the same. She knewallthe warning signs—had written them in perfect detail, had crafted a dialogue designedto make the reader ache as they recognized themselves in the words she’d written. Yet, here she was, getting caught in the same trap. The same damn trap.

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