Colton was up with the roosters we borrowed from Janice and her husband. They were happy to hand them over in exchange for a place at our table. The woman was intent on a new career. I’d dubbed her the Grandmarazzi since she showed up with ten disposable cameras.

Gordon had delivered most of his nursery, making the desolate landscape more inviting with potted plants and flowering pots he set around the tent and on tables.

The whole town had pulled together to make this work. It was the biggest thing that happened since the movie No Country For Old Men was filmed in nearby Marfa several years back.

I nibbled on the last Pop Tart. With Colton and I eating them for breakfast, my ninety-day supply had disappeared. It didn’t matter. My deadline was irrelevant. Although somewhere in my mind the countdown still continued. Twenty-five days remained until I was supposed to prove the three R’s.

Instead, I would sit down in the next few days and write my parents a heartfelt note acknowledging the gifts they gave me to help me become an independent woman. I’d explain the importance of selling the wet T-shirt photo that would make its debut tomorrow, an agreement I had with the editor to wait until this party was over. I’d sit down with Colton and figure out where our relationship was going. If he felt the same as I did. If so, I’d put the apartment up for sale and make my home in Texas.

Voices drew me outside. Our guests were starting to show up. Molly and Ten were on the dock with their girls. Jaxson was standing next to his bull’s pen. No one would have known he was missing a leg. He stood with pride and purpose. Heath was saddling up some horses with his wife, Cato, working beside him.

I stared with envy at the McCoy’s. I wanted what they had. I wanted that with Colton. We would never have the type of family they had, but we could start our own. Our friends became our family, and our children would grow to love one another without reserve. We’d never pit them against each other. We’d never put money in front of love. We’d let our love be our measure of wealth. And although Colton and I hadn’t exchanged the words, I felt loved each time he looked into my eyes.

As soon as the limousine approached, I knew it would be mayhem. Actor Jett Rivers didn’t come anywhere silently. I had counted on it. He exited the car in ridiculous snakeskin boots and a black cowboy hat, no doubt custom made for his big fat ego. Pulling up the rear of his group was none other than Marlow Kent. It was those long legs that made her famous. They had been wrapped around the hips of the right men for years. It’s how she catapulted to the top of her trade—Hollywood harlot.

I sucked in a deep breath and pasted on a smile.

“Jett, so sweet you could come.” I kissy kissed both his cheeks and walked him toward Colton, who was talking to a few of the investors Max invited.

“Colton, this is Jett Rivers and his date Marlow Kent.” Colton had no idea who any of these people were, but the investors did. That showed in their wide eyes and open mouths. “Jett is last year’s Academy Award winner for his role in the movie White Plains, which was about one man’s fight for clean energy.” My invitation to him was well-planned, and it didn’t hurt that Jett wanted to star in my dad’s next film titled, Rebellious Youth. It was a role that could be ongoing. Like Jack Reacher was for Tom Cruise.

What Jett didn’t know was I had no pull with my dad. I never did. The only thing he could hope to gain from coming here was a lot of photo opportunities and a sore ass from the saddle.

Jett fell into conversation with Colton and the other men with ease. Most Hollywood people were chameleons.

I showed Marlow to the tent set up for the women and metrosexual men. Molly had called in a few favors from the spa she had worked at before she married Ten. They sent over a masseuse and manicurist.

The next few hours were busy. I’d taken hundreds of pictures—everything from Jett falling off his horse to Colton leading a bunch of riders toward the turbines.

I wasn’t the only photographer present. TMZ sent one of theirs as part of the package deal. Since my photo wasn’t a nude, they negotiated a little something extra. I didn’t have a lot to barter with so I let them in.

By dinnertime, everyone was famished. Buffalo Girl Barbecue was pumping out steaks and baby back ribs by the pound.

The alcohol flowed freely as did the conversation.

Colton sat beside me and rubbed my leg beneath the table. He’d done well for a greenhorn. He talked the talk, walked the walk, and lassoed the money he needed to get himself set straight.

“How long have you been a thing?” Brett Mitchel, a reporter for TMZ asked just before he shot a photo of us.

I looked at Colton and laughed. “Are we a thing?” Deep inside, I knew we were the thing, but it would be great to hear him claim me publicly.

He turned his baby blues toward me. “I’m not sharing you with anyone else. What’s mine is mine, so yes, we are a thing.”

The photographer picked up his camera and snapped a picture of Colton giving me a kiss. Then he dropped the bomb. “How will it feel when tomorrow’s celebrity photos come out, and the whole world gets to see what’s yours?”

It took a minute to process what he’d said, but Colton processed it just fine. He was quick minded and quick-fisted. He was around the table in three shutter clicks and had Brett by the throat. “What pictures do you have of Nik?”

“Whoa. Back off man. I didn’t take it.”

Colton loosened his grip on Brett. “Who the fuck took pictures of my woman?”

With voices rising, heads turned our way.

“Ask your woman.” Brett whistled low in his throat. “I’ve never seen a wet, cotton T-shirt look that good.”

Colton and Brett were on the ground in seconds, and I was rushing over to break it up. I grabbed Colton’s fisted hand before he could deliver the first punch. “Stop it. You’re making a scene for nothing.”

He backed off Brett, pulled me to the side, and whispered. “That motherfucker has a photo of you. One of you in the wet T-shirt. I didn’t send it to him. I swear. Someone hacked into my phone or yours and stole it. But I’ll find out who did, and when I do, I’ll kick their ever-lovin’ ass. I refuse to have your picture out there for others to see. That was for me and me only.”

I looked over his shoulder. “Colton, you need to get yourself under control.” No one seemed to be paying attention anymore, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be distracted again. “We’ve worked too hard to get to this point. I’ll explain later.”

His head snapped back to look at me. “What do you mean you’ll explain?” He gritted the words between his teeth.

“Let it be for now. You have guests to entertain. We’ll talk about it later.” I turned to leave, but he pulled me back.

“Don’t tell me you sold that fucking picture for this party.” His voice was wicked angry but whisper quiet.

My heart sank into the pit of my stomach. “I did what I had to do.” I pulled from his grip.

He stood in front of me. “You sold yourself for this? You were worth more.”

“What do you mean were?”

“I could have lived without this.” He spread his arms out like he was showing me the room—the people. “I can’t live with what you did. You sold yourself for a party. I guess you can take the girl out of Hollywood, but you can’t take Hollywood out of the girl.” He looked toward Marlow Kent as if he were comparing the two of us.

I didn’t slap his face as I wanted, but his words hit mine. I didn’t walk away. He did. He marched across the room as if I didn’t exist. I stood still, letting the frame of the tent hold me up. What the hell had just happened? My gut ached and twisted ready to spill its contents.

You sold yourself. His words sliced me like a knife. He spoke to me like I was a whore. Yes, I sold myself. I sold myself the idea that I could have a normal life, but that it’s impossible because no matter how much I hate it, I’m Nikola Stone and nothing in my life has ever been normal.

I looked around the room at all the people who attended—people who would write big checks so Colton could follow his dream. His dream would live. Mine would die.

I did what I did, for him. I sacrificed everything for him, and he pretty much called me a whore. I ran from the tent to my cabin. If I packed right away, I could be gone before he noticed.

I pushed through the door of my cabin and ran straight to my old room where my suitcase was tucked under the bed.

There was too much noise in my head to hear the sounds coming from the bed. It wasn’t until I flipped the light switch on that I saw Max, face planted between a pair of ivory legs. It was the young masseuse from the spa tent.

I stopped and took in the scene. “Wow, that’s quite a package deal the spa offered.” I tossed my suitcase on the bed beside them. “Don’t mind me. I’m out of here in a minute.” Max wiped his face on the corner of the sheet before he pulled it over the girl’s naked body.

“What the hell is going on, Nik?”

“I needed a few things, sorry.” My words came out in a hysterical laugh. The kind you hear just before the person is placed in a holding cell—in a straight jacket. I grabbed everything from the closet with one arm and shoved it into the case. “Condoms are in the bedside drawer.” I raced over to Max and gave him a tight hug. “You two have fun. I’ll see you at home, Max.” With my suitcase in hand, I rushed out the door and to my Jeep where I tossed the bag in the back seat.

Molly ran to my side. “What’s going on?”

“It’s time for me to go. It was a gamble and I lost.” I raced to the driver’s side with Molly following.

“Oh shit, you sold the picture he was yelling about.”

“I sold it for him.” I pulled her into my arms and gave her a hug. It would have been nice to have her as a friend. “Molly, I have to go.”

I hopped in my car and drove to the front of Colton’s house. I ran inside like a category two hurricane getting ready to upgrade to a three. I whirled around the place collecting whatever I could find. My computer. My camera. My phone. My tomatoes. The ones he said would never grow. In minutes, I was back at the Jeep, ready to go.

“Nik. Wait.”

This morning his voice made my heart sing. Tonight it made me sick. I’d let myself become vulnerable. I’d let someone into my heart, and look where I ended up. Being a cloistered nun was looking better all the time. Maybe I could pull off a wimple.

“Go away, Colton.” I fumbled with my keys trying to find the ignition key and managed to drop them on the ground. “Damn it.”

He was right there next to me. He bent down and picked up the keys, but he didn’t hand them to me. He fisted them against his chest. “Where are you going?” His voice held a stern, no-nonsense quality.

“Home.” I swiped the keys from his hand and opened the car door into his body forcing him to stand aside.

“Nik, you are home. This is home.”

Emotions caught in my throat threatening to choke me. “This is your home, Colton, and I hope it turns out to be everything you dreamed.” I started the engine and closed the door.

He knocked on the window, and I rolled it down.

“We had a fight. That’s all.”

I thought about his words and repeated my version back to him. “I could have lived with this.” I pointed between him and me. “I can’t live with what you did. You basically called me a whore. Hollywood girls don’t put up with that shit.” I revved the engine. “Yes, I sold a picture that took everything I had away. I did it for you.” Tears streamed down my face. “I fucking did it for you.” I rolled up the window and put the car in gear. Colton stared at the back of my car as I drove away.