Among Wildflowers (15 page)

Ryland paced the length of the green room,
hands shoved in his pockets.
Where was she?
Then a tap came at the door. He pulled it open wide.

“Mr. Quinn,” the security guard said. “I found Ms. Ferris. She said she needed to leave but asked me to give these things to you.”

“I see.” He took the items from the guard and shut the door again without another word.

He couldn’t figure her out. He was sure that she liked him as much as he liked her. When he looked down into her eyes he could see the desire shining back at him. What was she so afraid of?

Throwing the unwanted items on a nearby couch, he put his hands on his hips and let his head fall forward. He knew exactly why she was so afraid. She was afraid of herself. Even more than he was afraid of her. She was terrified she’d screw up again, that she’d bring him down with her. Why couldn’t she see that she was lifting him up? The whole point of sending her all those gifts over the past few weeks had been to show her just how wanted she was. How much he cared about her. When he had seen her standing by the stage wearing the hat he’d sent, the bracelet glinting in the bright
lights, he’d thought for sure he’d finally broken through her walls. But he’d been watching her carefully while he sang
Among Wildflowers
. He saw her face become more and more serious. She
almost looked horrified. Maybe he’d made a mistake. Slumping down onto the couch, Ryland raked his fingers through his hair.

“That went well, don’t you think?”

Ryland hadn’t heard Michael come in.

“Yep, real well.”

Michael sat down beside him on the couch, throwing an arm over the back. “Then why do you look like someone ran over your puppy?”

He shot Michael a look. “Just do, I guess.”

“Ryland, the show was a success. There’s a lot of positive hype circulating about your world tour. They’re predicting that tickets are going to sell out almost instantly. Things are looking up.”

Ryland forced a smile. “That’s great. I’m thrilled. Really.”

Michael sighed and clapped his hand over Ryland’s shoulder.
“Ryland, if there’s something you need to do... if you have
unfinished business... just take care of it.”

Ryland regarded the man for a few beats. “Thanks, Michael.”

“You’re welcome,” Michael said with a rare grin.

Ryland grabbed his hat off the table and headed out the door without another word.

***

Macy sat at her usual spot at Little Branch. The bartender looked surprised but happy to see her, bringing Macy her usual beer with two shots of whiskey on the side. Macy sat with her arms crossed on the bar top staring mindlessly at her drinks. She hadn’t taken a sip yet, but still, sitting here felt like home and it comforted her in some sick way.

She drummed her fingers on the bar, considering her options. She could have one beer. That wouldn’t be so bad. But then if she had the one beer she’d had to have a shot of whiskey to go with it. But she never had just one shot of whiskey. She’d definitely need to have the second one. But by that point Macy would just start to feel loosened up and she’d need a second round to really feel right.

She pulled her phone out and scrolled through her contacts, her thumb hovering over Jackie’s number. At times like this she was supposed to call her sponsor. Let Jackie know that she was here, thinking about falling off the wagon. But she really didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to hear what Jackie had to say, didn't want to hear the voice of reason right now. She just wanted to numb herself and not feel completely fucked-up for even just a few minutes. A few blessed minutes of numbness was all she asked for.

Placing her elbows on the bar top, she rested her forehead against her fingertips, closing her eyes. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a man slide into the seat beside her. She shifted away
from him. The very last thing she needed right now was some
sloppy drunk hitting on her.

“Nice place.”

Ryland’s voice instantly snapped her out of her thoughts. She whipped her head around to face him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He waved the bartender over and ordered a beer with two shots of whiskey on the side, along with two cokes.

“Figured you’d be here.”

After the drinks came he slid the second coke over to Macy.

“How did you know?”

“Well, you told me this was the place you used to go when you felt stressed out. I figured you must be feeling pretty stressed out tonight.”

“You remembered I said that?”

He nodded, smiling softly. “I remember everything you say to me.”

“Oh,” she said softly, turning away.

“So,” he said, gesturing to the drinks in front of her, “here we are, Macy. You have beer and whiskey. Once you take a sip you’ve gone back down that path toward the thing you’ve fought so hard to get away from. Or you can drink the Coke and stay true to yourself. Stay true to the person you really are—a damned strong woman who is smart, sweet, and caring. You aren’t the booze, Macy. You’re so much better than the booze, you just don’t realize it.”

Macy stared at him but didn't say anything.

“I’m just waiting to hear the word, because I want to drink with you. But you gotta tell me if you’re planning on making a deal with the devil tonight, because I want to be by your side when you do it.”

Finally, Macy sucked her lips in and then reached inside her purse for a wad of cash, tossing it on the bar.

“I’m not in the mood for some kind of bullshit reverse
psychology
from you tonight, Ryland. If I wanted that I could go to an AA
meeting. So if you’ll excuse me.”

When Macy pushed through the glass door she was hit with the cold of the outside. Large, fluffy snowflakes were fluttering down from the sky and if she hadn’t been in such a foul mood she would have thought the scene was beautiful.

“Stop,” Ryland was beside her instantly, pulling on her arm.

“No, Ryland,
you
have to stop. Stop all of this.”

“No. I’m not stopping. I’d follow you forever if I had to because I can see how much you want me, too.”

Macy looked up at him, his face illuminated beautifully by the neon sign hanging in the bar’s window. “Of course I want you.”

“So why are you fighting it, Macy? Why won’t you just let us be together?”

“I’m not good for you.”

His head fell forward until his forehead rested against hers. “You have no idea how good for me you really are, do you?”

“I’m not, Ryland. I’m not a good influence on you.”

He pressed soft kisses down the side of her face. “Then let me be a good influence on you.”

Macy felt hot tears threatening to surface. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you, Macy.”

She smiled despite herself, unconsciously leaning into him and letting her head rest against his shoulder.

Ryland cleared his throat and pushed her away from him slightly and looked down into her eyes. “Listen, I know you don’t think I can handle it. You don’t think I can be the support you need. But I can. Macy, I want to be your strength, your shoulder to lean on. You deserve to have that in your life. Please let it be me.”

“I’m not as worried about me as I am about you. What about you? What about when you get sick of having to hold me up so much? What if you get tired of dealing with my messes all the time? What if I pulled you down to my darkness?”

Ryland smiled, hugging Macy to him again. “Don’t you see? I’ve already seen the darkness. I’m not afraid of it anymore. I used to be, but you’re the one that showed me the way out. Let me do that for you. Macy.” He pulled away and cupped her face gently, searching her eyes. “Will you let me take you out to dinner?”

Macy searched Ryland’s eyes. “I want to say yes so badly,” she whispered.

“Then say it,” he whispered back. “Please.”

“This is a very bad idea, Ryland.”

“Just say it,” he whispered again.

She laughed despite herself. “Okay, take me out for dinner, Ryland Quinn.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him softly.

A rumble emerged from deep within his chest and his arms snaked around her middle, holding her to him tightly as they kissed.

People were coming and going out of the bar, the bell hanging from the door handle jingling each time, but she didn’t care if anyone was watching them. She just wanted to stay like this forever, lost in Ryland’s arms. Macy wasn’t sure if she was making the right decision, but she prayed to God that it was, because it sure as hell felt right.

Ryland rolled over in bed
to find the other side
unoccupied. Lifting his head, he squinted and peered around the small studio apartment to see Macy sitting at the tiny dining room table. She was wearing a large sleep shirt with pajama bottoms, her legs tucked beneath her in the chair. She was chewing on the end of a pen while looking out the window, deep in thought.

Ryland slid out of the bed and padded silently over to where she sat, leaning down to place a kiss on the back of her neck.

She sucked in a breath as she was pulled from wherever she had drifted off to and smiled up at Ryland. “Morning.”

“Morning, beautiful,” Ryland said, sliding into the seat across from her.

Macy looked at him, chin in the palm of her hand, a shy smile on her lips.

“What?”

Her smile widened. “If someone would have told me that one day I’d wake up with Ryland Quinn in my apartment, I would have told them they’d lost their mind.”

Ryland laughed, raking his fingers through his hair. “I was worried at first when the bed was empty. I thought maybe I ran you off again.”

She shook her head. “Nope. You didn’t.”

“Good,” he said softly.

She blinked and cleared her throat. “Actually, I was just getting my morning stuff out of the way.”

“Morning stuff?” he asked curiously, leaning closer to peer at the pad of paper in front of her.

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Promise.”

“Every morning I get up and make a list for the day. Everything that needs to be accomplished. It helps... to have a regimen.”

Ryland nodded. “Alright, so what’s on today’s agenda?”

“I’m not really sure. Actually, all I have written down is ‘have breakfast’ and ‘get ready.’” She laughed. “I don’t usually wake up with strange men in my bed, so it kind of threw me off.”

He grinned. “Well, I have to say I’m glad about that. What do you say we get that first thing crossed off?”

“Don’t tell me that not only are you a gifted country singer, you can cook, too?”

“You haven’t tasted anything until you’ve tasted my pancakes.”

Macy giggled, actually giggled, as Ryland tugged her to her feet, a sound Ryland hoped he’d being hearing a lot more.

“Well, you’re on your own because I can’t cook. Pouring cereal into a bowl is the extent of my cooking skills,” she said.

“Then you can be my sous chef.”

“Yes, Chef!” she said, saluting.

“Let’s see,” Ryland said, rifling through her cupboards.

“Lucky for you I attempted to make homemade cookies a couple weeks ago and still have the stuff.”

“Attempted?”

“Yep. It was my week to bring snacks to the AA meeting. Needless to say I stopped by a bakery on the way.”

Ryland laughed as he began measuring out the ingredients and pouring them into a bowl. “Here, stir this together.”

Macy grabbed a wooden spoon and began to mix the ingredients. Ryland couldn’t resist coming up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck.

She leaned back against him. “This is just so crazy. I can’t believe all of this has happened.”

“Doesn’t seem so crazy to me, Macy. I’ve known I liked you almost from the moment I met you.” He spun her around gently to face him. “I’ve known you were the one I wanted. From the moment you fell into that horse pile.”

She slapped his arm playfully. “No! That was awful!”

Running his nose along the length of her jaw, he smiled against her face. “No, it was actually the moment just after that when I helped you onto your horse. As soon as I knew what it was like to have my hands around you, I knew that’s where they belonged.”

She closed her eyes and smiled as his lips began to explore the soft skin of her throat. “That ranked pretty high on the cheesy scale, Mr. Quinn.”

His fingers found her ribs and he tickled her. “Hush. You know it’s true. My hands belong on you at all times, don’t you agree?” he said huskily as his hands began to roam her back and rear.

“Yes,” she said, fighting a giggle. “I agree.”

He pressed kisses over her neck until he discovered that her heart was racing, and held his lips against the beating pulse, reveling in the knowledge of how much he turned her on. Then Macy’s phone began blaring, startling both of them.

“Ignore it,” Ryland said, holding her in place against the counter.

“Okay,” she said just before his mouth descended on hers.

But once again the phone rang, this time the vibration taking it to the edge of the counter where it clattered to the floor.

“Shit,” she said, picking it up. “I hope my screen didn’t crack. Oh, crap. My boss is trying to call me. I better get this.”

Ryland leaned against the counter and watched Macy put the phone to her ear.

“Hello… Sorry, Brandon I just—No, I haven’t turned on the TV. Why? What’s wrong? Okay, you don’t have to yell, I’m turning it on right now.”

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and held up a finger at him as she flipped the TV on. She flipped through the stations until she landed on a news program. “Oh my God!” she cried, dropping the remote and sitting heavily onto the couch. “Oh my God.”

“What?” he said turning to the TV. “Oh shit.”

E! News
had a headline rolling across the screen:
RYLAND QUINN’S STEAMY NIGHT WITH ALCOHOLIC PHOTOGRAPHER MACY FERRIS.

A perky news reporter came on screen, standing in front of Little
Branch.

“Onlookers say that Ryland was spotted coming in just after his performance at a local charity event. They said that Ryland met up
with a woman, who was later identified as the photographer who went on an alcohol-fueled rampage during a photo-shoot earlier this year.”

Then the screen cut to a close-up picture of Macy’s mugshot. Ryland’s gut twisted for her. He flicked his gaze to her and found her staring blankly at the screen, her cell still pressed to her ear.

The reporter continued. “There had been much speculation about what exactly it was that sent Macy Ferris in such a mindless rage, but it appears that drugs or alcohol were a factor. Just after the incident, Ferris checked into a facility upstate called Tall Oaks Behavioral Health and Rehab Center. Inside sources report that although Ferris’ business mogul boyfriend Logan Tanner paid for her stay at Tall Oaks, he broke up with her shortly after she was released because he simply couldn’t handle her erratic behavior anymore.” The screen cut back to the reporter. “So just who is Macy Ferris? She’s been one of the lead photographers for
Celebrity News
for the past three years. She’s been responsible for some of the most iconic celebrity photos of recent times. But sources now say her job is hanging by a thread.”

“I see it,” she whispered, Ryland’s eyes darting back to her again. “I understand.” Then she dropped the phone, letting it land with a muffled thud on the carpet.

His attention went back to the TV again. “So why were Quinn and Ferris spotted together? A source close to Ferris told
E! News
that she met Quinn while photographing him at his ranch for a feature in
Celebrity News
.”

Ryland went to Macy and knelt at her feet, taking her hands in
his. “We’re going to get through this. Don’t worry. I’m used to the media bombarding me, but you’re not. I’m going to help you through this.”

She nodded numbly and then whispered, “Brandon fired me.”

Looking into her face, he could see she was falling apart and he wanted desperately to help. Bringing their linked hands to his mouth, he kissed her knuckles gently. Then he turned his attention back to the TV.

“Our exclusive insider told
E! News
that Ferris informed him that Quinn actually had a lover that he kept secret from the public eye and she that she died recently. Our investigative team delved deeper into this theory and discovered that a young woman who worked on Quinn’s ranch and was also a trick rider, died just over two years ago. This correlates with Quinn cancelling his world tour.” The reporter carried on, but Ryland couldn’t hear anymore. He fumbled for the remote and shut the TV off before covering his head with his hands. He turned to Macy.

“You... you... told someone about Isabelle?”

“No! Of course not! Why would I tell anyone about her?” She stood and reached out to Ryland but he backed away.

“I don’t know, Macy. But someone found about her. They said you told someone. Is it true?”

“Of course not. I haven’t said a word about her, not even to Lane. I never even talk about private things unless it’s at... Oh my God.” She sank back onto the couch, putting her face in her hands. “Oh my God.”

“What? Tell me, Macy, goddammit.”

“I... mentioned something to someone at my last AA meeting.”

“What did you say? What the hell did you say?”

Tears were streaming down Macy’s face. “I didn’t mention your name. He must have figured it out somehow. I mentioned that I’d
recently gotten back from a job and that my client had recently lost their significant other. I only said that your strength was an inspiration to me. I never mentioned your name. I’m not stupid. The only reason I said what I said is that the whole point of the meeting is that nothing is ever, ever repeated outside that room. It’s a safe
place.”

“Well, apparently it’s not, Macy.”

“I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”

“This is... Jesus... I never wanted anyone to know about her. I trusted you when I told you about her. I trusted you.”

“Ryland.” She reached for him again but he jumped back. “I never meant to betray your trust. I’m so sorry.”

Ryland grabbed his shirt off the floor, pulling it over his head.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m sorry... I just need to go.”