Finally Forever, page 1
Finally Forever
Elena Aitken
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Finally Free
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Also by Elena Aitken
About the Author
Chapter One
I would do anything for my friends. Including, it seemed, leaving my two young children in the care of their grandmother for an entire week—for the first time ever—so I could go to a farm. Okay, it wasn’t a farm. Not really. It was a dude ranch. And despite the fact that I secretly devoured cowboy romance novels when no one was looking, and every single one of my dreams involved strong, tall cowboys in tight jeans and boots, I wasn’t under any illusions that actual cowboys were nearly as sexy as the ones I read about late at night.
And fantasized about.
No.
Fiction was nothing like real life. Widowed when I was thirty-seven with two small children, I knew that for sure. Unlike the movies, there had definitely not been any sexy men waiting in the wings to sweep me off my feet and take on my small family. At least, if there was, I was still waiting almost five years later.
“You’re not sleeping, are you, Sandy?” Darla nudged me in the ribs before reaching across me to open the window. She was sandwiched in the middle of the back seat of Abby’s SUV. Jessie was on the other side of her, fast asleep. Brittany was riding shotgun, surprising everyone when she didn’t demand to drive. Britt liked to be in control, but ever since her completely unexpected and absolutely amazing marriage to billionaire land developer, Trent Thomas, she’d mellowed. A lot. It was actually pretty incredible to witness. And continued to take me off guard.
“Oh, that’s better.” Darla sighed as the fresh air rushed into the back seat. “Isn’t it great to get out of the city?”
Aspen Valley, the mountain town we’d all lived our entire lives in, was hardly a city. With the world-class ski hill and multiple high-profile golf courses, it was more like the playground for the city’s rich and famous. Especially with more and more company headquarters relocating there for a love where you live lifestyle. Still, Aspen Valley had managed to maintain its small-town feel, despite the changes, and there wasn’t a day that went by that I felt like I was being stifled in a city.
“What are you doing? It smells like doo-doo.” I grabbed my nose with one hand and reached for the window controls with the other.
“Doo-doo?” Darla stared at me, not even bothering to hide the humor on her face. “Did you seriously just say that?”
Abby adjusted the rearview mirror to look at me. “Seriously, Sandy. You are spending way too much time with children. This week will be so good for you.”
I opened my mouth to object, but she was right. I’d recently gone back to work as a second-grade teacher, and if being surrounded by seven-year-olds all day wasn’t enough, I spent the majority of my free time with my girls, Isabella and Willow. Although, at eight and six years old respectively, there was no doubt that they both would have made fun of me for saying doo-doo. Even if it did smell like it.
“It stinks like shit,” I said with extra emphasis on the last word. “Is that better?”
Abby laughed so hard, Jessie woke up with a start.
“Why so sleepy, Jess?” Britt spun around in her seat to wiggle her eyebrows. “Your sexy, hot biker keep you up late saying goodbye last night?”
Jessie blushed but didn’t bother denying it. “Probably no more so than your husband or Abby’s sex god of a man.”
I tried and failed to contain my groan. I was so jealous of my best friends and it didn’t bother me to admit it. Three of my best friends in the whole world had recently hooked up with not only some of the sexiest men in the country but also some of the richest. But that wasn’t why I routinely turned green with envy. Not even close. It was the fact that Abby, Brittany, and Jessie were all having absolutely mind-blowing, toe-curling sex on the regular. If their reports were to be believed—and why should I doubt them—the kinds of things their men did to them and made them feel on a regular basis were like scenes directly out of the hottest of my romance novels.
And then there was Darla, who had that kind of sex all the time and with different men, because as she put it, “Life is way too short to choose just one.”
So really, it was just me who’d been living like a nun. An increasingly sexually frustrated nun. Was that a thing?
“Okay, okay,” I interrupted Brittany as she began to detail exactly how Trent had said goodbye to her that morning. Morning sex? That was definitely something out of one of my books. Real people didn’t have morning sex. No way. With messed-up hair and stale breath? Nope.
But just because I hadn’t…my eyes locked with Brittany’s. She offered me a small smile, and I had to look away because I knew she felt bad for me and the last thing I wanted or needed was anyone feeling badly for me.
“You know you can have wild and crazy sex, too, Sandy?”
Jessie’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. Automatically, I shook my head, but my protest held less conviction than it usually did. The truth was, my friends weren’t wrong. They’d been gently but consistently leading me to this realization. I loved them for not rushing me. But Greg had been gone for over four years now and although I wasn’t completely convinced that wild and crazy sex was on the table for me, or if I even wanted it, I had to admit that some sex, even boring and tame, would be more than welcome right now.
“Maybe there will be some sexy cowboys at the ranch?” Abby offered. “Some single cowboys who are more than ready to—”
“Do not finish that sentence.” I stopped her. “I beg of you.”
“But isn’t that what you need, Sandy?” Jessie asked, trying and failing to sound innocent. “A sexy, single cowboy ready to mingle.” She dissolved into giggles, but I only shook my head.
“I thought we were here for a girls’ trip,” I said. “No men.”
“None of our men,” Brittany said. “But we didn’t say anything about men in general…”
“Oh thank goodness,” Darla whooped. “Because I could use a little—”
“You could always use a little…”
Darla wrapped an arm around me and squeezed. “And there’s nothing wrong with that, my friend.” She left a wet, sloppy kiss on my cheek.
“Seriously, though,” Brittany said. “This is a ladies’ week. We’ve all been so busy lately, I’m really looking forward to reconnecting with you girls. And so nice of Dylan to offer us an entire cabin.”
“That’s right,” Abby said. “There is definitely at least one very sexy cowboy at Rock Creek Ranch.” She wiggled her eyebrows in the rearview mirror.
I squeezed my eyes shut at the mention of Dylan Scott. I’d only met him a few times. First at a casual dinner at Jessie and Shane’s. He was tall and muscular, with the kind of muscles that were made working outside with his hands. Using his body. Not that I’d noticed.
Okay. I’d noticed.
I’d noticed a lot of things about Dylan Scott. Including the fact that he looked exactly like I’d imagined every single hero in my novels to look. Never mind the way he’d made me feel all warm and tingly when he smiled at me. Or the way my body came alive when he’d shaken my hand before kissing the back of it. He’d kissed it. It was such an old-fashioned move, but I had not been able to stop thinking about it.
Especially because it had happened only one other time. A lifetime ago. With a man, who if my memory could be trusted, reminded me more than a little of Dylan Scott.
I swallowed hard and did my best to follow the conversation as we got closer to the ranch. I didn’t want my friends to notice my distraction. There’d be too many questions. We’d all been friends since we were teenagers, and there wasn’t much these girls didn’t know about me. But there were a few very specific things I’d managed to keep a secret from everyone for all of these years. Even my late husband hadn’t known my little secret. There was a reason I fantasized about cowboys and devoured as many novels about them as I could get my hands on.
I watched from horseback as the SUV turn off the main road to begin the dusty journey on the gravel to the main lodge.
I’d promised Shane Grant that the ladies would be well taken care of. We’d already made the arrangements for them to have the nicest cabin on the property, and to have any and all of the spa treatments they wanted. Never mind their choice of activities. It had all been taken care of. There was no reason for me to actually come in from the fields to greet them. I knew my staff, and my sister, Sophie, would take good care of them.
Still.
As the day had gone on, their arrival nearing, I’d been drawn in like a magnet. My eyes had scanned the fields all day, looking for signs of the women. Or, more specifically, one woman in particular.
I’d only ever met her twice. Both times were very brief. But they were enough to know I should stay away from her.
Sandy Clark.
She wasn’t my type. Not even close.
Sandy was soft and feminine. Her eyes held a sadness that,
Sex. A hard fuck in the barn or out in the field. Occasionally in the back of the truck. Never in a bed. Nothing intimate. Nothing serious. Not ever. I wasn’t built for settling down. Never had been. And I didn’t see that changing anytime soon.
Which was why I should have done myself a favor and stayed as far away from the main lodge and the arrival of the women—and Sandy Clark—as possible. It wouldn’t even be unusual, and Sophie sure as hell wouldn’t say anything if I didn’t show up. As the owner of Rock Creek Ranch, I spent most of my time anywhere but.
That wasn’t true.
I spent my time on the real ranch and as far away from the guests and the bullshit of the touristy bastardized version of my ranch as I possibly could. It was my sister Sophie’s idea to start up a guest ranch, complete with spa services and watered-down ranching activities so rich city slickers could come out to the mountains and throw their money around.
And they certainly did.
I couldn’t argue with that part of the arrangement. My little sister certainly had been right. The profitability of the ranch had skyrocketed since we’d opened, not that it mattered. Rock Creek was already one of the most successful ranches in the country. We not only handled a massive share of beef production for Western Canada but also for export. And before the expansion into tourism, we’d branched out into horse breeding and now Rock Creek Ranch was also known for the highest quality ranching and performance horses around. Yes, the real operations were thriving. But the businessman in me couldn’t deny how lucrative the tourism trade had been, too.
It was the only reason I tolerated it. Plus, it gave Sophie something to take charge of, and now with my two nephews helping out with the operations on that side, it meant that I really didn’t have to get involved if I didn’t want to.
And I didn’t.
Except for today…
My eyes followed the SUV that was finally approaching the parking area. I gave my horse, Cash, a kick. “Come on,” I told him. “Let’s get down there.”
Always ready for a run through the field, Cash crossed the distance with ease. I handed his reins to a stable hand and, with my eyes focused on the black SUV, crossed the parking lot.
It was a bad idea. I knew it was. But there were a million ways I could justify it. Besides, just because I was greeting the ladies didn’t mean a damn thing.
I reached the vehicle and the car door at the same time as my nephews, Wyatt and Tucker. I gestured that I would handle the driver’s door, and they quickly moved. I had to admit, they were good at their jobs, even if they did flirt a little too much with the female guests. I made a point not to know if it was anything more than flirting. As long as they were discreet, I didn’t care. I didn’t need trouble. Any more trouble.
“Ladies. Welcome.” I turned on the charm as I opened the door to reveal Phillip Conrad’s woman, Abby. Brittany Donahue, the tall, leggy blonde, stepped from the passenger door. I’d been at her wedding to Trent. It had been a very small affair. I’d been surprised to get an invite. But not at all disappointed because it gave me a chance to see Sandy again.
My eyes went directly to the back door that Sandy was emerging from.
She had no idea how sexy she looked in her soft pink T-shirt and worn jeans. Her hair swung from side to side in a ponytail that hung down her back as she turned back to the car to help her friend Darla out. It wasn’t until Darla stood next to her that Sandy turned around and met my gaze.
She froze and, despite the warm day, her nipples hardened to peaks beneath the tight fabric of her shirt.
Fuck, yes.
“Dylan!” Jessie, Shane Grant’s fiancée, stepped between us, breaking my stare, which was probably a good thing because my body had responded in an instant to Sandy. “Thank you so much for having us.”
I hugged Jessie and kissed her on the cheeks. “We’re happy to have you.” I tried to make eye contact with Sandy again, but with everyone milling around, it was impossible to single her out without making it obvious. “I wanted to make sure you all got here without too much trouble. As soon as you’re ready, we can get you all settled.”
I turned to see Wyatt and Tucker were already pulling suitcases from the back while they chatted with the other women. Wyatt was giving Sandy, in particular, a little more attention than I preferred.
Older women were exactly what my young, dumb, and full of come nephews preferred, especially if it earned them a healthy tip at the end of their stay. But these women, particularly Sandy Clark, were off-limits. To everyone.
I cleared my throat. “My nephews Wyatt and Tucker will take your things to your cabin while we get you checked in. If you need anything, it is their job to help you out.” I focused my gaze on Wyatt. “They’re good kids,” I said. “And they won’t bother you.”
Message received, Wyatt nodded once and swallowed hard.
Good.
“Oh, I bet they can help us out with all kinds of things,” Darla, the friend I knew the least, cooed and batted her lashes at Tucker, who actually blushed from the attention.
I shook my head with a chuckle. Okay, maybe not all of the women were off-limits.
If Tucker wanted to get involved with Darla, maybe she could teach him a thing or two. I wasn’t going to bother with it. As long as they left Sandy alone.
She was mine.
The thought hit hard and fast, and fuck me if it didn’t take my breath away.
No. She was not mine. I wasn’t some friggin’ neanderthal. This woman was way too sweet and good for me. Nothing but trouble would come from anything with her.
Purposely, I avoided eye contact with her and focused on the other ladies as I waved my arm and led them toward the lobby. “Let’s get you settled.”
Chapter Two
“Damn. Did you see the way he looked at me? Never mind that ass in those tight jeans.” Darla held her hands up and squeezed the imaginary ass. “This week suddenly got a whole lot more interesting.”
We’d been in our cabin for less than five minutes, and Darla had already gone through every single asset of Tucker’s. At least ten times.
“Darla,” Brittany said. “He’s like twenty-two years old.”
“And?”
“He’s a child.”
“He’s fucking hot!” Darla said. “And I’m willing to bet there is nothing childlike about what’s under those jeans.”
Britt knew enough to know when to give up. She shook her head and grabbed her suitcase. “I’m going to unpack.”
“There are three bedrooms,” Jessie said. “Which means one of us gets a room to ourselves. I’m happy to share.”
“I’ll share with you,” Abby said. “Maybe Darla should get her own room? Sounds like she might have found a use for it.” Abby wiggled her eyebrows.
“I don’t think there’s much of a surprise there.” Brittany smiled. It was common knowledge that Darla was a sexually free spirit. She didn’t like to be tied down to just one man, and she certainly enjoyed the opposite sex—on her terms.
I opened my mouth to protest that Darla might not be the only one who had a use for the bed but closed it again. Because who was I kidding? There was no way I was going to bring a man back to the cabin. Let alone a man I’d just met. And everyone knew it. The truth was, even if I did somehow get the courage up to throw caution to the wind and have a no-strings hookup with a sexy stranger, I’d need a willing participant. And that was one key detail I was certainly lacking.
Dylan Scott had hardly even looked at me. Not that I expected him to. Not really. After all, I was a plain-Jane schoolteacher, mother of two young girls. I barely even knew what makeup was, let alone how to use it. My hair hadn’t been styled in years, unless you counted blow-drying it and wearing it down instead of the usual ponytail—and I didn’t. And my wardrobe, if you could even call it that, consisted mostly of khakis, plain blouses I wore to work, and flower print dresses. I had found a handful of old T-shirts, jeans, and button-down shirts that would be appropriate for the ranch in the back of my closet, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone shopping for myself instead of my girls.
