Page 91 of Wild and Wanted

Turning her attention back to her agent, she said, ‘They will. They’ll do it for me.’

Stevie knew that was a big call and that her agent’s point was valid – the RVR might not be able to accommodate them. A sudden roil of nervous energy skittered through her insides, but she refused to blink or give anyone any reason to doubt her conviction. She might be way off base but deep inside, she knew Clay’s parents would do it if they possibly could.

‘Okay.’ Jaycee nodded. ‘I’ll get right on it.’

‘Thank you,’ Stevie murmured, a surge of confidence neutralising her nerves.

It may have taken her till now, and it may just be her first baby step, but taking back some control over her life felt good.

It felt, as Clay would say, really fucking good.

27

CLAY

Two weeks later

Clay could see the film trucks coming into view in the distance as he and Dev and three of the other hands rode back to the ranch after almost a week out in the furthest pastures, moving cattle.

Something he’d timed deliberately for the few days Stevie and her entourage were here filming her video clip.

Had he wanted to be here the day she arrived? Had he wanted to see her again? Talk to her again? Hold her again? Touch her again?

Like an ache in his bones that never fucking went away.

But… she had work to do and he knew he had to let her get on with it. If he’d been a less selfish man, he’d have stayed out for longer and waited for them to leave. Not having her around after those few weeks together had been surprisingly hard, but he’d got through it. He’d put his head down, he’d worked the ranch, he’d worked with Mags to advance their partnership into a business plan then a bank loan.

He’d tried really hard not to be a prick to everyone because his nearest and dearest didn’t deserve to be his verbal punching bag. They’d tolerated it after his injury; he doubted they’d be so generous again. So he smiled, he was chatty, he went to cookouts.

He even took some trail rides.

Because being butt hurt over a woman he’d known for such a short period of time was incredibly dumb. They’d had a great time, and it had ended – like he knew it was going to. And unless he wanted to admit to something more going on – which he did not because she was a music star who lived in Boston for fuck’s sake – it made no sense to be the rain on everyone’s parade.

He’d be lying though if he didn’t admit to looking forward to the daily photo exchange they seemed to have settled into even if it was a double-edged sword. Her choices made him smile and stirred a yearning for her that didn’t quit, but they also showed quite glaringly how disparate their worlds were.

This morning he had sent her a closeup of a flower growing along the flanks of the river, the mountains behind blurred. She had sent him a photo of her trailer where she went for morning make-up, her name on the door.

He was mountains. She was metropolitan. He was cowboy, she was Music City.

So, probably the wisest thing to do would be to not rip that plaster off, stay out another night because the filming wrapped today – there was a cookout to celebrate it – and they’d all be gone tomorrow.

But, hell, he wanted to see her.

He’d been surprised when her record label had approached his parents a couple of weeks ago about using the ranch for the music video. Mags had talked about it as a vague possibility when Stevie had first come to stay, but there hadn’t been any serious thought given to it until it had suddenly presented itself as an opportunity.

Clay imagined it hadn’t been Cindy Everhart’s first choice so he wasn’t sure how that had all gone down, and he hadn’t asked when Stevie had mentioned they were heading to the RVR in one of their text exchanges. He’d decided that a lot of Stevie’s life was difficult at the moment and that he would be the easy part.

Which included not pressing her for details on the ranch being chosen or hassling her about telling her mom the truth about her stage fright.

She’d asked him that last day not to try and fix things and he’d learned from that, learned that she’d needed him just to be there – not to act – and he’d decided to keep carrying that through.

At least until after that goddamn monolith of a tour anyway.

And in the meantime, he’d just keep sending her pics from the ranch hoping to be something grounding in all the flurry.

It took another hour to get back to the ranch and sort out their gear and see to the horses before he could jump in his truck and head to the cabin. He needed a shower because although Stevie had once confessed to liking the smell of horse and sweat on him, he doubted she’d feel the same about five days’ accumulation.

His mind preoccupied with thoughts of Stevie, Clay barely noticed the scenery on the well-worn track to his cabin. Not much had changed since she’d left but the days weren’t as hot or as long and, in the morning now, there was that September crispness to the air. The leaves were just starting to change and before too long, pops of blazing colour would dapple the landscape.