Page 1 of For Always
Chapter 1
She dreamed of him. His arms held her close in a circle of warmth and comfort. His breath whispered over her neck as he dropped a kiss there and then moved slightly so that the next kiss brushed along the line of her jaw. She closed her eyes and let her head loll back, enjoying the streaks of desire shooting through her at his touch.
He pulled away, with a quick jerk as if she’d slapped him. She stumbled back in an attempt to keep herself from falling, but it didn’t work. Her feet caught on something and she felt her body going down. Slamming onto the floor hurt worse than she imagined it would. Sharp, shooting pains ricocheted from her lower back to her abdomen. She cried out, but even that sounded more distressing than it should. But it was when she held her hands up to him that she received the shock of her life.
He didn’t take her hands. He didn’t do anything to help her up. And she couldn’t get up on her own. The lower half of her body was still while she dropped her arms, flattening her palms on the floor, in an attempt to push herself up. Her legs did not move and her hands slipped on something warm. When she looked down, a strangled cry caught in her throat and she blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay. It was futile, the tears came anyway. In steady streams down her cheeks as she realized her hands were in a puddle of blood.
With a jerk of her neck she looked up at him once more. This time she opened her mouth to speak, to call his name, curse him for not helping her, something. Anything. Nothing. There was no sound. And he was gone.
Gabriella awoke with a start, sitting up in her bed, her eyes scanned the dark room for a sign. Of what, she didn’t know. Or she did know, but didn’t want to acknowledge her digression.
It was over between her and Austin. It had been for a while now. With a hand touching her chest where her heart still pounded, Gabriella closed her eyes and sighed. She was happy about the break-up and proud of herself for walking away and never looking back.
Even if the dreams continued to haunt her.
Two Days Later
Hobbs Creek, Texas
Westwind Ranch & Resort
Tyler grit his teeth and held back a curse. He was not in the mood for another one today. Or this month. Why couldn’t they accept that he hadn’t made up his mind yet and when he did, he would call them? This was beyond unprofessional.
And she was woefully overdressed. Westwind was a horse ranch and resort. If she wanted to book a room, she was in the wrong place. The resort was down the winding path, closer to the road. It was a little after one so Dessie would probably be at the front desk right now. She would gladly book this woman—with the white painted toenails—a room. Or a weekend package, Tyler thought wryly. Her pedicure and the sky-high Manalo heels she wore looked expensive.
“Excuse me?”
And she speaks, Tyler thought with another sigh.
He made one last scrape against Golden Glory’s hoof, holding the pick tightly in his right hand and her foot in the other. He was bent over in the stall with his back facing the entrance, that’s how he’d glimpsed the woman’s shoes before she spoke. He wasn’t in a hurry to change his position or answer her.
“I’m looking for Tyler West,” she continued.
Persistent.
GG whined and Tyler frowned up at the horse. Traitor. He didn’t want to answer the woman and he didn’t care if he was being rude. He was grieving and trying to take care of ranch business. He did not have time for another real estate agent poking their nosy little head into his business. When he decided whether or not he wanted to sell his father’s ranch, he would contact an agent to do so. It was that simple.
When Tyler noted he’d been raised better, he eased GG’s foot down and turned slowly toward the voice. Damn. This might not be as simple as he thought.
“I’m Tyler West.”
Her smile was slow and as potent as three fingers of whiskey straight.
“I’m Gabriella Bennett. I’m the designer from The Proctor Group. Dessie Gwynne said I should come out to talk to you today. Is now a good time?”
“Dessie’s down at the resort,” he replied. “If you get back into your car and make a left instead of a right at the end of the driveway, you’ll run right into the back parking lot.”
She was tall, somewhere around five feet eleven inches in those heels. He was six feet four and a half inches, his height being a big part of the reason that fashion scout had approached him twenty years ago. The slim fingers of one hand clutched the straps of a Noe Saint Laurent tote, while the other rested confidently at her side.
“I’ve already met with Dessie and her husband Clyde, who I believe is the West family attorney.” She stopped and lifted her free hand to tuck dark hair behind her ear.
Tyler followed each movement and took in each detail and then frowned because he couldn’t figure out why.
“I was told to speak to you about a tour of the ranch house and how best to stage the place before the listing goes public.”
“I haven’t decided whether or not I’m selling the ranch,” he snapped and turned back to his horse.
The horse he’d inherited three weeks ago when his parents were found dead in a burning truck. His fingers tightened on the pick as he struggled for composure.
