Last Second Chance (6 page)

No. Of course it wasn’t. He needed to pull his shit together.

He forced a smile at the blonde. “I used to be,” he said as she closed the door and walked the rest of the way into the room.

She was pretty enough, just no Stella Jo Chandler. Who’d grown up on a horse ranch. Who could probably ride him six ways to Sunday. A groan was building in his chest. His dick was still hard. Fantastic.

Thoughts of Stella made his mouth go dry. He licked his lips and tried to get rid of blondie. “Yeah, um, if this is about insurance or something, my business manager handled that with—”

“Oh. No, Mr. Ransom. This isn’t about insurance.” She smiled seductively as she came around the bed to face him. “My shift just ended, so I wanted to come by and see if you needed anything.”

Ah. He caught her meaning.
Anything.
Well, this was going to be awkward. Did he even know how to turn a woman down? He’d never had a reason to before. Well, except when he was with Nessa, but she did her thing and he did his. So this would be a first.

“Yeah. Thanks for thinking of me. But I’m all set.”

She kept coming until she was within touching distance. “Looks like there’s at least one thing I could help you with.” Dark eyes pressed into his as she reached out and stroked his dick over his jeans.

Bold little minx, this one.

Her nails scraped the denim and the noise irritated him. She lowered to kneeling and he ached all over, like a bucket of ice water had been thrown on him. And his erection. It would be so much easier if he were high. He could let blondie suck him off and kick her out when he was finished. But he was sober and her dark roots were showing. Her skin was a tanning spray shade of orange. Between that and the nails, she was nothing but artificial. And he was craving
real
.

Skin a warm shade of golden caramel, natural sun-kissed chestnut hair that fell in waves over delicate shoulders.

“Look, I appreciate—”

His protest was cut off by the sound of the door opening. A nurse giving him a blowjob would probably be an excellent way to get kicked out. Even though he was still zipped up, he knew how it looked.

The green eyes that stared at him from the doorway were exactly the ones he wanted to see—any time other than right that second. Every muscle in his body clenched. The bed blocked her view of his unwelcome visitor. He desperately wanted to kick the girl under it. Or out the window. Whichever.

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” her soft voice purred. “I just wanted to say thank you for earlier. But um, I’ve been briefed on your situation, so maybe in the future you shouldn’t—”

Before Van could stop her, the girl beneath him stood up and glared at Stella. “Yeah, hon, we’re kinda busy here if you don’t mind.”

Her perfect mouth dropped into an O of surprise. Van wanted to hurdle the bed and grab her so he could explain. Hurt filled her eyes. It made him feel good in a sick way and disgusted with himself at the same time. She dropped something that smacked against the floor but didn’t bend down to get it.

“Oh God. Sorry. Carry on,” she said sharply as she turned to leave.

“Stella,” he called out after her, shoving his way past the blonde so he could get around the bed. Those damn nails clawed into his chest as she reached out and grabbed at him.

Stopping to glare at her, he grabbed her wrists and held them tight. “Get the fuck out of my room. And if you ever come back in here for any reason, I will have your ass fired before you hit the door.”

The hurt that filled
her
eyes when he released her didn’t affect him at all. He practically sprinted out of the room, stopping only to pick up the folder Stella had dropped. But the hallway was empty. No sign of her anywhere.

He knew she’d probably just gotten off work and would most likely head down to her house. Before he could think rationally, his body propelled him in the direction as if he were being pulled.

After arguing with some pain in the ass at the door, he scribbled his name on the sign-out sheet and barreled past the pool toward the staff residences. He caught sight of her just as she was entering her place.

Before he even realized what was happening, he was running. He hadn’t run in years. Not since he was on the track team in high school. Slowing as he neared her door so he wouldn’t be panting like a psycho, he gripped the folder he planned to return to her.

He had no idea what he was going to say. But he had to explain. He couldn’t leave her thinking he would just let some slut blow him like that.

Well, a week ago he would’ve. If he was on something. Which he mostly likely would’ve been. But now, after the way she’d looked at him, he couldn’t go back to that. Couldn’t settle for the cheap substitute when he’d caught a glimpse of the real thing. Damn, he wanted a
taste
of the real thing, too. Badly. And despite all of his flaws and vices—and there were a lot them—the one thing he was really good at was getting what he wanted.

And what he wanted was her.

S
tella didn’t know why seeing the blond chick from lunch on her knees for Van pissed her off so much. It just did.

She’d gone to his room to tell him that she appreciated the thought behind what he did at lunch, but Dr. Ramirez had told her of Van’s unique situation. His whole career depended on this stint in rehab being successful. Surprisingly, the director hadn’t wanted to fire her when he’d called her into his office after orientation. He’d just wanted to know if she’d mind helping out with the horses from time to time. Which of course she didn’t mind at all. In fact, she’d been looking forward to it.

When questioned about the incident at lunch, which was already circulating, she’d explained that it was all a simple misunderstanding. Dr. Ramirez had explained that this was Van’s last shot. If he screwed up in any way that prevented him from completing the program, his band, his manager, and his recording label were dumping him out on his ass. Well, not in so many words, but she got the idea.

She’d been touched that he’d risk all that to protect her from some cocky physician. But she wanted to tell him that it wasn’t necessary. She was a big girl and could handle herself. No need to put his whole career in jeopardy.

And then she’d seen the sheer panic on his face when she caught him. He probably thought she was going to rat him out or something. Apparently he risked his whole career for whatever he felt like doing at the moment. She wasn’t anything special, just an idiot for letting herself think otherwise. She cussed her stupid self all the way across the property from the main facility to her place.

But if she was being honest? That voice in her head, the one she always tried so hard to ignore, said that she was upset because it hadn’t been her down on her knees in front of him. Making him come and making him hers.

An unfamiliar pressure built in her stomach and she shoved it aside. She’d promised to feed and check on the horses after each shift since her little bungalow, as she’d taken to calling it, was closest to the stables.

After kicking her heels off hard enough to send them crashing against the wall, she slipped on some socks and her riding boots. She knew she should probably change clothes, but she didn’t feel like it. No one would be at the barn this late in the evening anyways.

After unbuttoning the pink shirt she’d worn to work, she slipped off the pearls her parents had given her for her sweet sixteen. Well, her mom had passed them down to her. Her daddy had barely managed to grunt out a happy birthday. The memory weighed on her already heavy mood. Clad in a cami, a pencil skirt, and perfectly worn in riding boots she hadn’t worn in years, she flung open her front door with the intention of putting any thoughts about Van Ransom straight out of her head.

She might’ve been able to follow through with this plan had he not been standing on her doorstep.

“Stella,” he said softly, eyes flashing as he took in her unusual getup.

She turned away so he wouldn’t see any residual jealousy on her face. “I need to feed the horses,
Mr. Walker
. Excuse me.” She cut around him, but he followed her to the barn.

“Since when does a
client care coordinator’s
job include feeding horses?” he asked as he followed her to the stables.

She kept walking and answered without looking at him. “Since they need the extra help and I volunteered
.
” What business of his was it anyway? And how did he know her official title? Oh yeah—ID badge. Right.

“Listen. Stella, about earlier—”

Whirling around and stopping him in his tracks, she glared with all her might. “Look, you don’t owe me an explanation. And for the record, I’m not going to tell anyone what I saw.”

Van huffed out a breath. “Okay. For the
record
, what is it you
think
you saw?”

Yeah, right. Like she was going there. She turned and resumed her brisk walk to the barn. Did he think she was so naïve she didn’t know what a blowjob was?

For the next few minutes, she focused all of her attention on the horses. Dipping the large canisters into the feed barrels and emptying them into each animal’s feeding trough helped to clear her head. Warm gratitude in the eyes of the horses in the stables soothed her. Somewhat.

She stroked a few of their faces and murmured softly, the sting of what had happened with Van swirling with the ache of missing home inside of her. No, she didn’t miss home, exactly. She missed riding. Missed the fearless girl she used to be.

When she was finished, she turned and saw Van leaning in the doorway with his thick tattooed arms folded over his chest.

Taking a deep breath and wiping her dusty feed hands on her skirt, she planted her feet where she stood. “You probably shouldn’t be down here.”

The man watching her with far more interest than she was comfortable with raised a brow but said nothing.

She straightened a saddle resting sideways on a wooden beam. A riding crop had been discarded on the wooden floor and she bent to pick it up. Dr. Ramirez had said that funds for animal care had been low since the renovations and new stables had taken most of the money that had been given by the recent investors. The trainers were mostly volunteers who did what they could. After hanging the riding crop where it belonged, she turned back toward the exit Van was blocking.

She barely resisted the impulse to stamp her foot. “You saw me crying yesterday, you stepped in on an awkward situation today, and I came to thank you, and…” And dammit, this was not a conversation she wanted to have. Her eyes were tricking her into noticing things she didn’t want to. Like the way the thick knot moved in his muscular neck when he swallowed. The way ink-covered veins throbbed in his strained forearms. The way he held his jaw, clenching it, forcing his full lips together. The man had a mighty fine mouth. She could just imagine what it would feel like on hers. In fact, she’d spent more time imagining it than she’d ever admit.

“You came to thank me and what?” he pressed, uncrossing his arms and walking toward her.

For some inexplicable reason, a lump threatened to form in her throat. What the hell was wrong with her today? Maybe she was about to start her period. “And you had company. Sorry to have interrupted.” She smirked hard at him. Her boots scuffed the dirt as she backed up against the wall behind her.

He came right into her personal space, no sign of an apology in his eyes for doing so. Bracing both arms on either side of her head, he pressed his gaze down into hers until she was panting for breath. She was trapped by a tattooed man twice her size. In a place where no one could save her.
Scared,
she thought.
I should be scared
. But fear was the furthest thing from her mind.

“I asked you a question. What is it you think you saw?”

She broke out of his gaze and shook her head. “You’re an asshole.”

His right hand pulled back from the wall and gripped her chin, forcing her to face him. “That’s common knowledge, sweetheart. But you still didn’t answer my question.”

Her chest rose and fell between them as she warred with her emotions. Angry and turned on were not two she was used to handling simultaneously. “You were… And she was… Why are you doing this?”