Freed (16 page)

“You’re killing me.”

“I’m working up to telling you.”

That’s not what’s killing me. Telling me what she loves about me without telling me she loves me? Killing. Me. “I can be patient.” My words have a double meaning only known to me.

“The guy I invited tomorrow? He’s not really my friend.” And just like that, the euphoric feeling from her sweet words swirls away from me like dust being sucked into a tornado. “No. No, not like that,” she rushes out. “Nothing happened between us. I told you this really has nothing to do with me.” My breath releases in whoosh, and I drop back against the wall for the support I desperately I need. Whatever else it is, I can handle it. Crazy how my one and only real fear is losing the women I love—my mom and Denver. Every other worry I’ve ever had seems like minor complications that I could deal with easily. Denver hops up from the bed, moving to her bag to pull her nightshirt on. Crawling back on the bed, she shifts and drops down in front of me, sitting Indian-style. “I figured out something about him, but I only figured it out last night. My gut said to tell you right away, but as you know, part of what I’m working on is controlling my impulsivities. So I thought I would sleep on it and make a decision in the morning.

“It’s little things. His eyes—certain expressions he makes, that made my spidey senses tingle,” she jokes. I don’t see anything to joke about. If it woke her up in a cold sweat and has her scared she was going to lose me, even if there’s no fucking way that’s gonna happen, it’s no laughing matter. “Austin met him too, and didn’t seem to pick up on anything unusual, so I chalked it up to coincidences until those couldn’t be ignored anymore. I guess I noticed things he didn’t, since my new favorite pastime is studying you.” She smiles again, a little lighter this time.

“You’re not making much sense right now, Denver.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I’m just nervous. I’m not gonna make you promise not to be mad or not to break up with me, because that’s just stupid. I haven’t had many happy moments in my life, Ransom. Even though I’ve had to deal with some horrific things these past few months, I am the happiest I’ve ever been, and you’ve been a huge part of that.” Her voice has grown hoarse with emotion. “If you don’t want me after what I tell you, I’ll have to live with it, but I know it’s the right thing to do. If it were me, I’d rather hear it from some I l—” she pauses and clears her throat “—someone I know and trust.” I squeeze her hand, encouraging her to continue. “He’s going to tell you himself. He just didn’t count on me figuring it out, but I don’t want to see either of you hurt—especially you. If me telling you helps you handle it, I’ll deal with the fallout. I’ll do the right thing and risk losing you, rather than do the wrong thing and ensure I lose you.”

“Don’t worry about that Denver. Just be honest with me, and we’ll deal, OK?”

“So, last night at the benefit, I saw him again like I told you, and it was just too much. Too many coincidences. I confronted him and made him tell me the truth, but he’s a good guy. He just wants to know you.”

“Denver, come on.” My voice is laced with impatience, but I seriously have no idea what she’s trying to say, and it’s killing me slowly.

“He has your eyes. He has your smile—all fifteen of them. The shape of your lips.” Her finger traces the outline of my mouth. “He can be a smartass like you. He seems loyal and protective.” She pauses and seems to gather her strength. “What he doesn’t have, is his father’s last name. Just like you don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“His name is Stone.”

Chapter Fourteen

Denver

O
NE THING
R
ANSOM’S
never been with me, is quiet. He’s good with companionable silence. We’ve spent many a night working side by side with only hushed shuffling between us. We’ve had peaceful drives with just the strains of music surrounding us that ended in quiet cuddling under a blanket of stars in the countryside. Sometimes after we’d watch a movie, we’d end up his room holding each other and reveling in each other’s silent acceptance. However, when it comes to feelings, Ransom’s never quiet. He’s a firm believer in talking it out and dealing with things, so I’m at a loss for how to handle his brooding this morning.

After I told him about his brother and recounted what Stone had told me, Ransom kissed me and told me to go back to sleep. He wanted to check some things out before calling his mom to see if she knew anything about any long-lost siblings. When I asked him if I did the right thing, he looked at me like I was crazy and told me not to worry about a thing.

I figured he needed some time alone, so as much as I wanted to go to him, I didn’t. I grabbed a paperback out of my bag and read the same paragraph four times before popping in my earbuds and dozing off into a fitful sleep.

I know he spoke to his mom while I showered. I know he’s been on his laptop for the past couple of hours. What I don’t know, is how he feels about suddenly having a brother.

Stealing another glance at him over the top of my book, I marvel at the man that is John Ransom. He’s been so good to me and unbelievably helpful and understanding. I want to return the favor, but I’m not sure how. I can only hope that quiet support is enough for now. I watch, mesmerized, as he sips from what’s probably his fifth cup of coffee this morning. He sets his mug back down and taps away at his keyboard again for a few minutes before cutting his eyes toward me. I glance back down at my book guiltily. When I hear him back on the computer, I surreptitiously peek at him again. Only he’s not looking at his computer but at me, and he’s finally smiling.

“Caught ya,” he smirks.

“I’m worried about you.”

“I know, but I’m fine. Just a lot to take in. My mom had her suspicions about another family, but she never knew for sure. She wasn’t shocked though. Told me I’d do the right thing, and of course, that she’ll support whatever decision I make.”

“I haven’t even met your mom, and I love her.”

“Yep, me too,” he laughs. “Come here.”

I drop my book and hightail it across the couch to him. His laptop makes it safely to the floor before he enfolds me in his strong embrace. “I’m glad you told me. You did the right thing. I was a little angry last night, not with you though, and I wouldn’t have wanted to have that reaction in front of … Stone. God, it’s weird to even say that name. Anyway, I’m sure he’s had enough heartache at the hands of our father.”

“So how do you feel now?”

“Curious. Sad. Kinda excited. I have a brother, and if he’s as cool as you say, then it’s a good thing.”

I nuzzle against his neck for a minute before kissing my way to his lips. He kisses me long and soft and sweet before I pull back to lock eyes with him. “Why sad?”

“If my father wasn’t a selfish prick, I would have had a brother for the last seventeen years. Instead, we’ve got to figure out how to make this work. It’s bound to be awkward, don’t you think?”

I muse over that for a minute. We haven’t talked about his father much, but I know that Ransom wrote him off when he was about fifteen. His was a sporadic presence in Ransom’s young life. During childhood, he had somewhat of a relationship with him. His father would swing into town, taking a young, impressionable Ransom to different rodeos and things like that. I know that, over the years, he tended to play mind games with both Ransom and his mother.

“I think Stone is nervous about your reaction, but he stated very clearly that he wants to have a relationship with you. It’ll probably be strange at first, yes, but I know if anyone can figure this out, it’s you. You’re strong, you don’t take no for answer, and you can read and relate to people easily.” I pause and kiss his forehead. “You’ve got this, Ransom.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just pulls me tighter and sighs deeply.

After a few minutes, I unwind myself from Ransom’s hold and busy myself with making lunch. I can cook about four dishes, but even though it’s only four, I rock them. All too soon, I hear a light knock at the door. I wondered if Stone would even show since he never responded to my text. I hover at the kitchen entrance, locking eyes with Ransom. “Do you want me to get it?”

He sighs again and scrubs his face. “No, I’ll get it.” He closes his laptop and deposits it on the bar next to me before grabbing my hand and pulling me behind him as we walk to the door. I run my hand over his arm, hoping to infuse some good vibes, and maybe even a little strength.

Another knock. A little louder this time. Ransom pulls the door open, and I almost weep when I see his first real smile of the day. I know in this moment that he’s going to be OK.

“Umm … hi,” Stone stammers. His eyes flit to mine before moving back to Ransom’s.

There’s a pregnant pause, so I jump in to fill the awkward void. “Ransom, this is my friend, Stone.” Stone gives a lopsided grin and sticks his hand out toward Ransom.

The words are barely out of my mouth when Ransom says, “And my brother.” My eyes go wide, glancing back and forth between them. He never said how he’d handle it. I should have guessed he’d be straightforward, as per usual.

Ransom grabs Stone’s hand in his, and pulls Stone against him, thumping his brother on the back in a one-armed guy hug.

“You’re not pissed,” Stone mumbles.

“Not at you,” Ransom answers before releasing him. “Come on in.”

When Ransom steps back, I steal a quick hug from Stone, murmuring my apology for letting the cat out of the bag. “Nah,” he reassures me. “I had no idea how to say the words, so I think I owe you a thanks, Denver.”

“I’ll take that over your anger any day,” I quip. I close the door behind him and stand back to marvel at these two. It’s no wonder I figured it out so quickly. The resemblance is uncanny.

Ransom grins. “I’d ask for a DNA test, but damn, it’s like looking in a younger mirror.”

“A younger, taller mirror,” Stone jokes, running his hand over his shaggy hair. “And a little hairier.”

Ransom laughs a little. “This is crazy,” he muses before moving toward the couch.

I let them settle in and move toward the kitchen to finish up lunch. Since the apartment is small, I hear Ransom as he asks, “How’d you know about me? I didn’t have a clue about you.”

“My mom let it slip a couple of years back. She had too much to drink one night and ended up crying on my shoulder about how, if John Stone didn’t love his “first” family enough to settle down, we never stood a chance of winning him over. Then she let it slip that he was in prison, and no good to anyone anymore anyway.”

My movements freeze as I take in that tidbit of information, but my gaze flies to the living room. Ransom’s eyes are locked on mine in apology. “I was going to tell you. It’s a long, complicated story I wasn’t ready to share just yet.”

“It’s all right,” I promise.

“Sorry about that,” Stone rushes out. “I’m messing up things already.”

“Nah, man. You’re good. I’d rather not talk about him, though.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

I call them into the kitchen, and Ransom distributes a few beers to go with our Mac ‘N’ Cheese. Stone and Ransom launch into an awkward get-to-know-your-long-lost-brother conversation, during which, I note they don’t have a whole lot in common. They occasionally bring me into the discussion, which is sweet, but I’d much rather just observe.

“So, Austin told me you’re doing well with bull riding,” Stone says.

Ransom takes a sip of his beer and licks his lips. “Yeah, not too bad.”

“Is he always this modest?” Stone looks at me in question.

I can’t help but laugh. Stone will definitely fit in around here and hold his own with the Ransom. “No, not at all. He’s as cocky as they come.” Ransom’s beer bottle pauses, just before reaching his mouth. He gives me one of those cocky-as-hell grins and winks at me. God, that wink.

“Ah, well, don’t hold back on my account.”

Ransom relaxes in his seat a little. “Well, I’m first right now, but that can all change in the blink of an eye. Can’t let my guard down. I’m set to go pro this summer after graduation.”

“I don’t know much about rodeo, but I’ve heard pro bull riding is tough.”

“Tough as it comes, and not just the dangers that go along with strapping my ass to live missile.” His eyes meet mine, and the look that crosses his feature startles me. If I didn’t know better, I’d call it fear. “The road is hard. If you’re not doing well, the pay is shit. It’s a grueling, nonstop ride, and I can’t fucking wait.” There’s that look again. The one that belies all he’s just said.

“I saw you ride in the finals last year on TV,” Stone comments. “I was pretty caught up in it. I couldn’t believe we were related. My mom caught me and flipped. She was sure I was gonna start in with the hero worship and want to follow in your footsteps. I promised her that nothing about bull riding appealed to me. I have to say, though, watching you is something special.”

I beam at Stone’s praise of my man, but Ransom scowls. “If you watched the finals, then you saw me get my ass trampled by Terminator. Pretty sure there was nothing special about that.”

They share a laugh. “You rode four out of five bulls
and
took home the championship, yet you focus on the one that got away?” Stone asks.

“We tend to do that,” I assert. “Perfectionists? Champions? We focus on the little things we could’ve done better. The things we can improve in the future.” I look back to Ransom. “What happened with Terminator anyway? You looked primed to ride him.”

“Bastard faked me out. He feinted left and cut a hard right instead. I was so damn close, too. Not even a full second short.”

“Three one-hundredths of a second,” I say without thinking. “You would’ve been the first rider to ride all his bulls in the finals.”

“Damn,” Stone whistles. “I hope you do that this year.”

Ransom grins, “Me too, bro. Me too.” Ransom shakes his head. “Enough about me. What do you do for fun?”

“Uh, not much. I played a little ball in school, but nothing really stuck. Mostly, I’m just focusing on getting my engineering degree.”