you’d get me. Hopefully Dickless Pete heeds my warning, but if he doesn’t...” He shrugs, rolling those mountainous shoulders. “Let’s just say he’ll wish he had.”
My insides churn, hot and frantic.
Desperate to avert another disaster.
“Ridge, you don’t get it. You don’t know—”
“No, I don’t know your whole story, and when you’re ready to tell me, I’m here to listen. Even if you don’t open up, I’ll still be here. The few people clued in about who I am know better than to leak my whereabouts to the media. As far as Hollywood knows, I’m on indefinite hiatus. I fucked off out of California and gave the press the idea I’d fled to Maui, where I still own a place. Besides, having you around, having people think we might be a couple won’t hurt anything. In fact, it might just keep the gossip hounds more confused and throw them off longer.”
I shake my head.
Seriously.
He can’t be suggesting what it sounds like.
I’m so not pretending we’re a couple. It’s absolutely ludicrous, and I seriously doubt real fake engagements end nearly as well as they always do in those fun, guilty-pleasure romance books I devour every so often.
Ridge stiffens, looking at me as I lift my head and force myself to meet his gaze.
No, nope, and hell no.
My heart leaps at the way he smiles and nods.
So this is what it’s like when a barn mouse looks up and sees a hawk.
I swallow the rock in my throat but still can’t talk.
Still can’t tell him there’s no way I’m going along with this scheme to ‘pretend’ we’re engaged.
After years under Clay’s thumb, I know what hot messes look like, and I’m not interested in turning my life into a bigger freaking dumpster fire.
Not even for a bossy, lethally handsome hero I never asked for who apparently has a few screws loose in his drop-dead-gorgeous head.
“You know...I think I’m going to walk these two around a little bit. Give them some exercise.” I bolt and start heading for the stalls.
“Right behind you,” he says, three mundane words that shouldn’t make steam shoot out of anyone’s ears.
Oh, but right now?
I don’t want his help.
I don’t want him risking his famous butt for me.
Not with Rosie and Stern or mobsters who’ve made our lives a living hell.
I’m about to boil over.
6
No Change of Plans (Ridge)
“Well?” I stare down Tobin with my arms folded, wondering how big a heap of shit I’m in for.
“She wandered the entire house taking notes,” Tobin says, following me into the kitchen.
“Good. Hopefully she’s found plenty to change in every room.” I open a cupboard door and take out a glass. Although my mind is still back in the barn, stuck on how we’d walked the horses around the inside arena and talked, I tell him again. “This place could use some sprucing up.”
“I offered to—”
“So you’re a certified decorator now?” I ask, interrupting him. “Interesting. Mom never mentioned that talent.”
His lips smooth into a thin, frustrated line.
“I didn’t think so.” I fill the cup with coffee. “Guess who is?”
“I’m very aware. What baffles me is why you’re so intent on keeping them here,” Tobin says, barely keeping his voice level. “This isn’t like you, Ridge. You’ve never been overly friendly with strangers—particularly the last few years. You came here for the quiet, the anonymity, the reclusiveness...having people living in the guest cabin now is the exact opposite of that.”
I shrug, partly because I’m not totally sure myself why I decided to dive into this insanity, but I damn sure want Grace and her father kept safe.
“It’s been over six months living with the best Dallas has to offer. Maybe I’ve decided it was boring. I’m ready for some excitement.”
Tobin straightens those oval wire-framed glasses of his, then clasps his hands neatly in front of him. “There’s a difference between excitement and danger. I trust you know the distinction.”
I suck in a breath of air.
“You think I don’t?” I snarl.
Of course I do. I’d thought that very thing while shoveling. Thought about it a lot.
“No,” Tobin replies, stone-faced as ever. “I’m just worried about the type of excitement you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in the past few days. Perhaps you should reconsider your career trajectory.”
A blaze of anger whips through me.
Dammit, I know what he’s suggesting, and it ain’t happening.
“Forget it. I’m not going back to Tinseltown. I’ve told you a hundred times I’m done with that fuckery. After Mom, after that pig...” I bite my jaw together so hard it almost