Chapter 25

twenty-five

. . .

River

T he man who invented high heels was surely a sadist. He had to be. And there was no way it was a woman, because these shoes were beautiful but cruel torture devices. I slipped out of the sky-high stilettos and opened my door with an almost indecent groan.

Tonight hadn't gone as I'd expected. That's not even taking into account the mind-blowing orgasm I'd experienced at the tips of Sterling's talented fingers. Jesus, who knew the man had been hiding that filthy mouth behind all those smoldering stares? He was the one bright spot in an otherwise shitty situation. A shit-uation, if you will.

I tossed my shoes in the corner of the room, then reached behind my back and unzipped the silk gown Sterling had completely ruined. There would be no saving this fabric, not with the way he'd made me come. I'd somehow managed to finish out the night without sitting and leaving a wet spot on the back of the fabric, but once I got in the car to head home, there was nothing to be done. You'd think things would have cleared up by then, but no. The man had made me fucking gush. And every time he looked my way, my body reacted as though his hands were on me.

It was obscene.

I'd be embarrassed if I wasn't so eager to do it again.

I let the fabric fall to the floor and turned to my bed with a sigh, contemplating whether I was going to risk going to sleep with a full face of makeup and no PJs when my eyes snagged on the carefully arranged presents sitting next to my pillow.

Walker .

I knew they were from him without having to inspect the eclectic offering. He'd been watching me like a wounded puppy all night, and I'd had to force myself not to be swayed by him.

This must be what he'd meant by a big gesture.

I hesitated before moving to the side of the bed, not sure if I wanted to give him the chance to wear me down with thoughtful gifts. But in the end, I was too curious not to see what constituted a proper grovel in his mind.

The first thing that drew my eye was a bouquet of my favorite flowers, Queen of the Night tulips. Twenty-four of them were bundled together, the stems wrapped in paper and tied with a black ribbon. Nestled within the blooms was a notecard, Walker's familiar scrawl across the front.

Please read me.

I sighed but reached for the card, opening the envelope and pulling it free.

Ladybug,

I know I messed up and broke what we had, but I also know you are worth fighting for. So consider me all in on us.

If you think I'm not worth it, allow me to remind you why falling in love with your best friend is the most perfect way to do it.

Example one: I'll always remember your favorite flower, and I'll do anything to get it for you just to see you smile.

Something tells me that's not enough for you to trust me again, so move on to the next gift if you need more convincing.

Always yours,

Walker

My heart was already questioning everything my brain had decided we were going to do. Fucking Walker, knowing exactly how to get to me.

I reached for the sweets next, laughing a little at the nearly five-pound bag of orange Starburst, all already unwrapped. It had been our favorite candy as a kid, and Walker and I had always fought about who got the orange ones. Whenever we fought, he'd always apologize by offering me the last orange Starburst. Or, if we weren't together, he'd leave one for me on my pillow to let me know he was sorry and all was forgiven. I guess it was our version of a white flag.

I thought you could use a little something to help sweeten up your feelings toward me. It was hard to give all these up, but I'll give you everything if I get you in return.

Against my better judgment, I softened toward him. A small grin twisted my lips as I took out one piece of candy and popped the tart square into my mouth. The man was a genius at seduction, but I already knew that. Such a simple set of things, my favorite flowers and candy, and I was already putty in his hands. I'd been lying to myself when I said I'd never let him in again.

He hadn't stopped there, though. The cherry on top of this Walker Cross sundae was a neatly folded Twisted Cross Ranch T-shirt. I was pretty sure the shirt itself wasn't the gift, because as soon as I picked it up, the spicy scent of his cologne hit my nose.

The note fell to the bed as I slid the cool cotton over my head.

Since you aren't ready to let me hold you, I figured I'd wrap you up in me in a different way. Imagine those are my arms holding you tight, pressing you into me as you drift off to sleep. I wish things were different and that I'd never fucked this up in the first place, but I'll sleep better knowing I'm with you somehow.

I love you, River. No matter what you think of me. And no matter how long it takes, I'll get you to see that you love me too. We belong together, darlin'. Always have. Always will.

I'm not letting you go again. Ever.

- W

Goddammit. Tears sprang to my eyes. I hated crying. I hated that Walker Cross had me even close to crying and feeling bad for sticking to my guns. But if I was being honest with myself, the moment I cut him off, I'd already begun to yearn for him.

I sat down hard on the bed, frustration making my eyes burn as I fought off the tears. I'd cried more since arriving at this damn ranch than I had in years. I was not this girl. The mopey pining for a man to love her girl.

I'd been that girl ten years ago when Cross fucked me and abandoned me with nothing. The last thing I wanted was to be her again, especially not over another Cross boy. But it was hard to think of Walker as my enemy. He'd never been anything other than kind and caring. He always treated me like I was special to him, even when we were gangly preteens. Was he sincere now?

My gaze flicked to the ruined dress on the floor, and flashes of heat raced over my skin as memories of what Bishop had just done to me tonight took hold. How could I be crying over one man while still riding the high of another's touch? On paper, Bishop was the obvious choice for me. We didn't have a twisted past, he hadn't done anything to hurt or mislead me, and we clearly had chemistry. But maybe that was only because there was still so much about him I didn't know. He'd admitted he had secrets, things he could never tell me. I mean, he was a damn government agent, for crying out loud. The man was as complicated as the Cross brothers, messy history or not.

Did Bishop know how deep the bodies were buried on this ranch? Did I? A chilling thought worked its way to the forefront of my mind. Cross murdered the man who'd attacked Walker. He shot and killed him; I had no doubt. The fact that I hadn't told a soul made me an accessory. Would Bishop turn us all in? Would he sacrifice me for the sake of his job? And more to the point, was it really so bad when Cross was avenging his brother?

What did it say about me and my own skewed set of morals that I didn't blame him for what he'd done? Growing up with Bear as my guardian had taught me that love was shades of gray in a justice system that was black and white. He was the kind of guy who would burn the world down for the people he loved. He'd taught me to be the same. I wanted nothing less from my partners. Partner. Fuck.

Cross proved he was the same, and I couldn't fault him for that. Which meant only one thing. Bishop could never know what I'd seen. I wouldn't send Cross to prison for something I'd have done myself if given the chance.

God, my stupid heart was a disaster. She craved them all. Even the one man I'd sworn to hate for the rest of my days. The one I used to believe was my dream come true when, in actuality, he was more of a nightmare. A monster hiding in plain sight.

I came to Twisted Cross Ranch hoping to uncover the truth of how my parents died. To get some closure and move on. Instead, I'd become wrapped in the Cross family's web of lies and deceit while somehow also tangling myself up with three men I couldn't choose between.

As if on cue, an email notification dinged on my phone, pulling me away from thoughts of the three men I wanted.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: It's not over

They've got you in their sights.

Just below the cryptic message were two images side by side. The first was my parents dressed to the nines and slow dancing. The Cattleman's banner in the background proclaiming it was the same event I'd attended tonight, just a decade earlier. The second image was me, taken tonight while I'd been dancing with Bishop. The expression on my face was near identical to my mother's.

It was eerie seeing myself in such a similar position. Or perhaps that was because of the red X scribbled across my face.

Under the photos was one final line of text, and it sent a chill through me.

The clock's ticking, River.