Chapter Thirty-Five

He wasn’t at the house. Of course he wasn’t—it was the middle of a workday. Still, she almost wept with frustration. Breanna had answered the door, and she stood in the doorway looking at Gen.

“I need to see Ryan,” Gen said, breathless.

“Well, it’s about time.”

Breanna wasn’t sure where he was, so she called him on his cell phone. He didn’t answer.

“Cell service is sketchy out here,” Breanna said, though Gen already knew from her own experience that it was true.

“Please,” Gen said. “Do you have any idea where he might be? I really … I just need to see him.”

Breanna put one fist on her hip and regarded Gen. “Well, he said something about a fence in the southwest pasture.”

“Great. Good. How do I get there?” Gen was already stepping down off the porch on the way to her car.

“Can’t get there by car. You’ve gotta ride.”

“Oh, God,” Gen said.

 

Smirking, Breanna led Gen to the stables. They saddled up two horses—the chestnut named Bailey that Gen had ridden before, and a gorgeous black mare Breanna called Molly. Breanna gave Gen some gentle instruction as she used the mounting block to climb atop Bailey’s back.

“You ready?” Breanna asked as Gen settled into the saddle, feeling a little scared, intimidated by the size of the animal.

“I guess.” At least her discomfort with the idea of riding was crowding out her fear about seeing Ryan again. That was something.

They headed out on a trail that led into the hills past the old barn. They moved at a walk, which Gen assumed was for her benefit.

“Could we hurry?” Gen called ahead to Breanna.

“Fine by me. But are you up for it?”

“I … Yes. Let’s just go.”

“All right.” Breanna nudged her horse into a trot, and Bailey followed suit. At first the jostling was alarming, and Gen worried that she’d be thrown off and under the massive animal’s hooves. But Breanna called instructions to her, and soon Gen was following the horse’s rhythm and feeling pretty sure that she could do this.

Gen knew the ranch was big, but it seemed like they’d been riding forever before they finally arrived at the southwest pasture. Breanna brought Molly to a stop, and Bailey came up alongside her.

“Doesn’t look like he’s here,” Breanna said, unnecessarily. Gen could see that for herself. The countryside was dotted with the big, black bodies of cows grazing or just standing around—but no Ryan.

Gen let out a little frustrated moan.

“You want to go back, or you want to try the new barn?” Breanna said.

“Breanna!” Gen shouted at her.

“Okay. New barn it is.”

They turned around and went back onto the path.

 

By the time they got to the new barn, Gen’s ass was sore and she was nearly weeping with the need to see Ryan. The horses trotted up to the barn, and Ryan appeared in the doorway. A couple of ranch hands were unloading hay bales from a truck. They looked at her and then at Ryan with curiosity.

She scrambled to get down from Bailey’s back, which seemed impossibly high off the ground. Her foot got stuck in the stirrup and she stumbled backward. Ryan was there to catch her.

The feel of his body against hers as he righted her made tears spring to her eyes. She wanted to melt into him and then stay there, warm and safe, forever.

“Gen,” he said, stepping away from her after she’d gained her balance.

“Oh, God. Ryan, I need to talk to you. I need …”

“I think you two can take it from here,” Breanna said. “You’ll get her and Bailey back to the house?” she asked Ryan.

He nodded, and Breanna led Molly at a trot down the path that led back the way they’d come. As she went, she looked over her shoulder and shot them a satisfied smirk.

“What’s going on?” Ryan said when she was gone. “Did something happen?”

“You bought Kendrick’s painting,” Gen said.

“Ah, Gen.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Look. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t …”

“No.” She interrupted him. “You bought the one he wanted to keep for himself, and returned it to him.”

“Well.” He stood there with his hands on his hips, looking uncomfortable. The ranch hands had stopped unloading the hay and were watching them openly.

“Don’t you two have something to do?” Ryan asked them. They ducked their heads and disappeared into the barn.

“Ryan. Giving that painting to Gordon was the most thoughtful, generous … just about the kindest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I didn’t … It wasn’t … It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

Being told he was kind and generous made him look like he was standing on a rusty nail. His discomfort with the praise, with the attention from his selfless act, made her melt. She simply could not imagine waiting another moment before being in his arms.

“I … Ryan … I should have talked to you. We should have …”

“Come here.”

She ran to him and he enfolded her against his warm, hard body. She didn’t belong in New York. She belonged here. Right here.

“I never said I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair. “I never should have given that check to Bellini behind your back. Gen. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” She pressed her cheek to his chest, feeling the rhythm of his breath, feeling his heartbeat. She pulled back a little and looked up at him. “I shouldn’t have shut you out. But, Ryan, I have to be able to do things on my own. My career … If I’m going to be successful, I have to do that alone. I can’t always be wondering if you somehow made it happen for me.”

“I know. I should have understood that about you. My mother did. She called me an idiot.”

Gen’s mouth quirked into a half smile. “Well, maybe you were. Just a little bit. But you were a very sweet idiot.”

“Well, that’s something.”

She looked into his face and saw something change there. Relief had turned into desire, and his mouth claimed hers in a kiss.

It started out soft, tentative, questioning whether this was okay, if they were okay. Then, having gotten his answer, he deepened the kiss until the heat of it spread through her, lighting her aflame.

She held him to her tightly, wanting him more than she wanted to take her next breath.

He pulled back from her a little and looked around him.

“We’ve never done it in the new barn,” he said.

“There are a couple of guys in there.”

“I’m their boss. I’ll tell them to get lost.”

“There are cows,” Gen said. “What about the cows?”

“They’re going to be scandalized,” Ryan said, grinning.

“I guess they’ll get over it,” she said.

He picked her up into his arms, and she let out a delighted shriek as he carried her into the barn.

 

Gen was in the gallery a couple of days later, feeling deliciously satisfied after spending the night with Ryan at her place, when her cell phone rang.

“Gen Porter.”

“This is Hillary Ramsey, David Walker’s assistant. Is this a good time?”

Gen sat up straighter in her chair. “Of course.”

“Mr. Walker received your proposal regarding his sponsorship of your artist’s residency program, and he asked me to set up a meeting with you to discuss it.”

“He did?” Gen realized she probably sounded shocked and stupid, but she needed a moment to absorb the information.

“Is next Tuesday satisfactory? Mr. Walker would like to come to Cambria and see the property where the artists reside.”

“I … That’s … Yes. Next Tuesday is great.”

They set up the meeting. Gen couldn’t wait to tell Ryan.

 

“I guess that means you’ll want to keep renting the guest cottage,” Ryan said, grinning, when she told him that evening at her place.

“Well, yes. If you didn’t have other plans for it.”

“I think we can work something out.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “No break on the rent, though. Since you want to do things on your own.”

“Of course.” She grinned and wiggled a little in his arms.

Ryan shook his head, a look of dismay on his features. “You know, you’ll probably have to come out to the ranch a lot, if you’re going to keep the residency program going.”

“I suppose.”

“It’d be a lot easier on you if you lived out there. Less wear and tear on your car.”

She felt a jolt of electricity through her veins, and her heart sped up.

“Ryan ... That’s …” Then her excitement was tempered by the reality of the situation. “It’d be awkward, me living with you in your parents’ house.”

“Not if we were married.”

She pushed back from him, her mouth open in shock.

“Married?”

“Of course, we’ll want to build our own house eventually. We’d still be on the land with my folks, but we’d have some privacy.”

“Oh, my God, Ryan.”

“I don’t need an answer right now. Just think about it. And in the meantime, let’s, you know, practice a little. Doing stuff that married people do.”

He flopped down onto her bed, pulling her along with him, and she fell on top of him with a squeal.

“We might need a lot of practice,” she said.

“Well, we’d better get on it, then.”

So they did.