Page 68 of Whirlwind

What Beck and I had were two stolen moments in time, and now it was all over. I had no illusions about it, and now Beck certainly didn’t either. Beck Lanier had way better things to do and way more appropriate women to screw. He didn’t need me and my damned drama. He’d had enough drama lately.

But Beck’s opinion of me now? That mattered to me. I jammed my eyes shut. That stung, that cut deep. That was torture.

Now, I was going back to my delightful status quo, and Beck to his. Only Beck didn’t have a status quo right now, did he? He had a new life to live after his breakup and the end of his tour. A life full of colorful exciting delightful choices creating new music for Freefall’s new album. A life he could now redirect and transform any way he chose. With any women he chose to be with, sleep with.

And now, I was hooked on a man who was gorgeous and thoughtful and funny and kind and all kinds of raw sexy hot. A man with a generous heart and a rich soul. But a man whose life was so different from mine. Polar opposite.

Two ships that had passed in the night, sailing to different continents.

“Tea? Coffee?” A stewardess hovered over us, pouring Ladd a cup of coffee, a stiff smile on her face.

“Nothing for me, thank you,” I replied.

Ha. So true. For a long, long time now.

* * *

We landedat Rapid and made our way to Ladd’s Range Rover SUV. I pressed myself back on the thick leather seat, not enjoying the smell of new leather coiled with the strong scent of Ladd’s smoky cologne. It was stuck in my nose, my throat. Stifling. Ladd pulled out of the lot, the massive luxury vehicle easily managing his curt demands for speed.

I kept my eyes on the road. Ladd and I had known each other for years. Both our fathers had been involved in local politics and supported local institutions. After his dad had died, Ladd starting doing consulting work for Dad. One night at a business cocktail party last summer, Ladd and I had actually had an entertaining conversation and hit it off. So when we began seeing each other, his mother and my parents sat back on their respective porches, grinned, and raised their cocktails at one another.

Around that time, Dad found out that the Frick Ranch would be parceled up and auctioned off, and he put his ideas for Powder Ridge into motion. Ladd had the idea for a golf course and lodge on the parcel of Frick property that he and his mother wanted to purchase since it abutted mine land. Suddenly, Ladd and his mother were investing in Powder Ridge, and he was working alongside me and Dad full time.

On paper, in black and white, Ladd was the perfect guy for me. But he wasn’t, and I wasn’t in love with him and I never would be.

I’d broken up with him, and that night I’d gone to meet Wes at the Tingle to have fun, to celebrate a fresh start. But then the very next day, post Wild Night of Freedom with Beck, I’d patched things up with Ladd because I needed to set Dad’s damned apple cart back on its feet.

Just until the auction. Just until the auction.

The Range Rover went faster.Welcome to Meager.The large road sign flew past us, and my insides cramped. Luckily, Ladd was not a son of Meager. I might have had to contend with whispering and side glances amongst the town folk, everyone taking sides.

Ladd blew out a huff of air as he flexed his fingers over the big steering wheel, his knuckles white. “I guess if I had the chance to dip my dick in a Sports Illustrated cover model I wouldn’t say no either. You scored every girl’s wet dream with him, huh, Violet? Way to go.”

“Geez, you know me so well.”

It was better this way—Ladd assuming I was just bored and out for a good time. A self-indulgent hook-up with a sexy celebrity.

He hung his hand over the wheel. “We both need some time to cool down. Then we can talk.”

“Talk? About what? What’s the point? And what the hell does 'time to cool down’ mean?”

“You’re in no position to ask for anything, Violet, not even clarification. Keep your panties on, and I’ll let you know when I’m ready to talk.”

“Oooh, are you keeping your panties on?”

“You have no fucking right to ask me what I’m doing with my dick.”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn about your dick or what you do with it.”

“You’ve made that pretty fucking obvious the past few weeks!” his voice exploded and my chest tightened. We’d gotten “back together,” but I’d made every excuse to not get cozy with him in any way since.

He let out a deep breath. “We need to not complicate things with our personal bullshit. You are not going to fuck all this up.”

“I find it fascinating that you’re so willing to sweep my sins under the rug for business.”

“I like this deal with Hildebrand & Hildebrand. I’ve worked damned hard on it, and I have a lot riding on it. I need it. And my mother, who holds the family purse strings, likes you and me together. A lot.”

“Your mother likes the fact that you’ve stopped your playboy ways. She wants you procreating sooner rather than later to continue the great Jeffries dynasty.”

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