Chapter Ten
Vanessa
The idea came to me in a dream, and when I woke up, I was so excited that I had to call Julie about it right away. She was less than thrilled to hear from me so early.
“It’s eight in the morning,” Julie said when she answered the phone. She was the opposite of a morning person, which left me most likely out of her good graces for the start of the day.
I winced and looked at the clock. Sure enough, it was just as early as she’d said. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”
She laughed. “Of course not,” she said. “I have a little kid, remember? I’m up before the sun, every morning. This morning’s no different. I’ve already showered and gotten dressed. I made breakfast for all of us and drove the tyke over to one of his playmate’s houses for the day. I’m just surprised that you’re up.”
“Oh. Yeah. I just woke up from the best dream. I think I know what I’m going to do with myself.” I smiled, unable to help myself.
“What?” she asked, sounding amused already.
“What if I created a gallery to showcase artwork from people in the region?” I asked. “White Bluff already has a pretty steady flow of tourists coming through; I’m sure there would be people who were interested in the local art. And, there are so many great artists from the region, both Native American and other people who have moved here specifically because the surroundings are so beautiful.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Julie said, but I could tell there was a “but” coming.
“You don’t think it would be popular enough?” I guessed.
“It’s not that,” she said. “But opening a gallery has to take a pretty decent amount of money, I would think. You need to get the space for it, and there’s nothing perfect for a gallery in town already. That means buying land and building a new structure, or else really paying to modify some building that already exists. And then you’d have to pay all the artists so that you had things to put inside the gallery. Then there’s marketing and all of that, and you don’t know how long it could be before the place really starts to take off with tourists.” She paused. “Gosh, I’m not trying to sound so negative about it. I’m just being practical.”
“Yeah,” I said, frowning. “I mean, I thought about that stuff. But don’t you think it would be a great idea? That’s kind of my first question, before I start thinking about the logistics of it.”
“I think it could be a really great idea,” Julie said. “And, it’s totally something that I could see you doing. You love this place more than you admit.”
I snorted. “I’ve never said that I didn’t love this place,” I said. “I just don’t want to work on the Lazy J for the rest of my life. You know that’s not the kind of thing that I’m interested in.”
“I know,” Julie said. “It did always seem like you were trying really hard to get out of here.”
“I just wanted a little space,” I said, shrugging. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad, but he definitely wanted me to take over the ranch, and he was starting to give me more and more responsibilities. You know that.”
“I know.” Julie paused. “Have you told him about your idea for the gallery?”
“I just woke up,” I told her. “Literally the first thing that I did was call you.”
“Hmm.” I could tell she was frowning. “You probably want to think about where you’re going to get the money from before you talk to him about it. Otherwise he’s going to think you’re asking him to sell the ranch or something like that.”
“I would never do that!” I protested.
“I know that, and you know that,” she said. “I’m sure that your dad knows that as well, if he really sat down and thought about it. But I also know your dad, and I know how much he wants you to be happy. I wouldn’t put it past him to sell the place without asking you, just because he was so sure that it was the only path toward realizing your dreams.”
I laughed and shook my head. “You’re right.” I bit my lower lip. “I’m not sure where I’d get the money from. Dad makes some decent money with the ranch, but most of it goes back into operational costs and updates and everything else. Even if he sold the place, it probably wouldn’t be enough to support him comfortably and allow him to invest in my gallery.”
“What about the bank?” she asked. “You aren’t the type of person to rack up big credit card bills, so I assume your credit score is probably pretty good. Could you get a loan from them if you wrote out a proposal for the gallery and got some artists who would be interested in it, do you think?”
“That might work,” I said slowly. “It would be almost like buying a house at that point. And, I know that they would probably give me a loan if I was going to try to buy a house. I know a bunch of friends who have taken out loans for things like that.”
“You might need to have another job lined up, too,” she cautioned. “At least something part time. They’ll want to know that they can trust you to repay their money and all of that.”
“I’m going to get on that today,” I vowed. “I’m sure there’s somewhere in town that will hire me.”
“Lydia was looking for a new waitress over at the diner,” Julie said helpfully. “I know it’s not the best job ever, but at least it might pay decently. And with all of the out-of-towners coming through, maybe you could find some way to advertise the gallery to them once it’s up and running.”
“Awesome, thanks,” I said, smiling already at the thought of the gallery being up and running. “Hey, listen, I’m going to go tell Dad about it and see what he thinks. But thanks for being my sounding board.”
“Anytime,” Julie said. “Good luck, and let me know how it goes, okay?”
“Yes. Of course.” I started to say goodbye, but she cut me off.
“And Vanessa?” There was a hint of humor in her tone.
“Yeah?” I reached up and ran my fingers through my tangled locks. “What’s up?”
“No more calling at ass-dark thirty. Okay?”
We laughed and said our goodbyes. Definitely not a morning person.
I hopped out of bed and threw on a clean dress, pulling my hair back into a ponytail before bounding down the stairs. Dad wasn’t in the house, so I headed out to the stables, wondering if he was already at work around the ranch.
Instead of Dad, I found Trethan. He was standing with his back mostly turned toward me, a pitchfork and a pile of dirty hay next to him, where he had clearly just finished mucking out the stables. He had his shirt off, and there was a thin sheen of sweat covering him already, despite how early in the day it was. It was far from being hot yet, but I supposed if he’d been working all morning and using his muscles, he was probably pretty warm.
As I stood there, he lifted a pitcher of water from under the water spigot and poured it over himself. He shook the water out of his eyes, and I watched the last of the water droplets trail down his chiseled chest, following the planes of his muscles and tracking lines down his skin.
The sudden urge struck me to step closer to him, to chase those drops of water with my fingers or even (the thought made me blush) to chase them with my tongue, pressing kisses down the length of his torso. He looked practically god-like, all tanned and tattooed, standing there in the sun. I shivered with lust at the thought of him turning and seeing me, reaching for me, pulling me close to him.
He would be a demanding lover, I guessed. He would know exactly how he wanted me and what he wanted to do to me. He would thrust without mercy, his expert fingers finding all the spots of pleasure along my body, teasing little moans and whimpers from my lips.
My whole body flushed with heat.
That was when Trethan turned to look at me, locking me in his gaze, drawing me stumbling toward him.
“Like what you see?” he asked, smirking at me and cocking his hips at an arrogant angle.
I blushed brilliantly, still moving hesitantly toward him, feeling as awkward as a newborn colt. For a moment, I wondered if the whole thing had been a show. If he’d somehow known I was there and planned the whole thing. But no, his back had been to me the whole time. He couldn’t have known.
Trethan took a step toward me and wrapped his fingers around my hips, pulling me close, just as I’d imagined he would. He looked down at me with something dark and heated in his gaze, and I wondered for a second if he was going to kiss me.
Instead, he merely licked his lips slowly. I helplessly tracked the movement with my eyes, a breathy noise issuing from my lips. Trethan smirked and raised an eyebrow at me.
It was enough to have me pulling away from him, putting a safe distance between us again and gulping in air as though I had just run a marathon. I wasn’t sure whether I’d taken a breath since before I’d watched him dump the pitcher of water over himself.
“We’re not…” I began shakily. I couldn’t finish the thought. I didn’t even know what I was trying to say. We weren’t what? Dating? Fucking? Of course, we weren’t, and he already knew that. It went without saying.
He was still smirking at me. “You feeling okay?” he asked casually.
I nodded dumbly, still staring at him. Then, I shook my head, trying to regain my wits. “Don’t do that,” I scolded him. “You had your chance, and you missed it. We’re just friends, remember?”
He continued to look amused. “Am I doing something other than being friendly to you right now, sweetheart?” he asked silkily.
I rolled my eyes. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” I said tartly. I couldn’t keep my eyes from trailing down his chest again. The water had mostly dried off now, other than where it had soaked into the tops of his jeans, hanging low on his hips. But I could still picture those droplets in my mind and could still imagine running my fingers down his skin.
I shivered again and looked back up at him. Instead of looking cocky, there was something else in his gaze, something troubled. “Do you think people can change, Vanessa?” he asked. From the raw note in his voice, I could tell that there was something deeper to what he was asking. Something beyond the two of us.
I frowned at him, wanting to prod him, to find out what he was really asking. But even though we’d agreed we were friends now, it wasn’t my place to ask. There was too much history there. Anyway, it was easy enough to guess what he was asking about.
Did I think the fact that he had quit doing drugs had changed some things about him? Sure. But he was still fundamentally the same person deep down, wasn’t he?
He was still arrogant and still thought that he could get me to sleep with him, as a matter of course. And he drank and got into fights. He might have a better work ethic now, but he was the same.
And for all that I had matured since I’d gone to college, for all that I liked to say that I was over him, there was still that same attraction there, and I still had the thought that I might act on it if he gave me an opening.
In so many ways, we were exactly the same as we had been a few years ago. The conversations may have changed, but not much else.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure,” I said finally. I didn’t want to tell him flat-out that I thought he was just the same as the smoked-out guy I’d known five years ago. But I also didn’t see much to suggest otherwise.
From the hurt expression that came across Trethan’s face, you would have thought I had stabbed him in the heart. He turned away from me, nodding grimly. Without another word, he got back to work. I wanted to say something else, to take it back, but I didn’t know what to say. Instead, I went to find Dad, although some of the excitement from that morning had worn off.