Melody

 

Brock wasn’t taking the hint and he wasn’t taking the not-so-subtle no’s either. She was finally getting some kind of closure with Stryder. And there was Brock, interrupting the time with Stryder that Melody was just selfish enough to be grateful for since she hadn’t seen him in years. Plus, after they got everything taken care of between them, would they even see each other again?

She pushed that thought to the side with sadness she didn’t want to explore. Brock’s boots stomped on the grass. Melody placed her fork down and pasted a forced smile to her lips.

Brock snarled as he got closer, pushing through the filmy material and glaring at the lights and dinner. He reached out and roughly grabbed Melody by her upper bicep, yanking her to her feet and toppling her chair behind her. She didn’t whimper, but she was close. She glanced embarrassedly at Stryder and tried shaking Brock off. “Ow, you’re hurting me.” She muttered and pushed at his vice-tight fingers. They pinched at her skin and she had no doubt there’d be a bruise there in the morning.

He lifted his hand as if he might slap her and Melody flinched. Alcohol seeped from his skin and burned the air between them.

He was a drinker, like her father. He had never been able to own the fact that he drank and it was a problem. Melody couldn’t have that in her life. No more alcohol. Not anymore. Not since her dad was gone. “You’re been drinking. Get away from me.”

Lowering his arm, Brock growled at her again and then wrapped his forearm around her neck, dragging her to the side. “Come on.” His words slurred and spittle caught on the lower fleshy part of his lip.

Stryder pushed back calmly from the table, taking the linen napkin and tossing it beside his plate. He strode around the side of the table, rolling up his sleeves as he walked like time stood still for him.

Which it kind of did.

Melody couldn’t stop watching him. Stryder had always had a magnetism about him, but with righteous anger darkening his face and the flicker of the candlelight on his masculine features, he took Melody’s breath away.

If Brock were smart, he’d be scared.

Stryder reached out before Brock could register what was going on. Wrapping his fingers around the nape of Brock’s neck, Stryder almost smiled. Yanking Brock close and shaking him until he dropped his hold of Melody, Stryder murmured close to Brock’s ear, but loud enough Melody could hear it. “Go home. Don’t come back. If I catch you anywhere near Melody again…” The promise didn’t need to be completed. The threat sent a shiver down Melody’s back and he wasn’t even directing it at her.

Brock fumbled at his neck, grasping for a hold of Stryder’s arm to pull it off, his eyes bulging with furious desperation. But Stryder’s grip was like iron and he seemed to be enjoying the game.

Melody stepped back from Brock’s reach, pressing her fingers to her lips. She placed her hand out, grabbing at the chair to steady herself before she fell down. No food for a long while and then the sudden influx of such rich fare left her head spinning.

Brock narrowed his eyes at Melody, struggling against Stryder’s hold. He dropped his hand from Stryder’s arm around his neck and reached for his side. He always carried. Everyone did and Stryder had lived in California too long. He didn’t know about the guns or the fact that Brock was a bully.

But Stryder laughed and tightened his forearm. “I know what you’re reaching for, Brocky, and I wouldn’t do it. You’ll end up in prison so fast. Just go home and sleep it off. Then, when you’re sober, think about what you did and come back while I’m there and apologize to Melody…” He lowered his voice to a whisper and Melody couldn’t hear what he said, but whatever he said, Brock nodded shakily, fear covering his eyes and his face taking on a distinct pallor.

Brock shook Stryder off. He stared for a moment at the two of them, then turned and rushed toward his truck. He pushed past Javier who carried a tray and walked toward the tent. The truck drove off, leaving behind a surprised silence.

Melody swallowed, lamely lifting her hand and then letting it fall to her side. “You shouldn’t have done that. Brock Stidwell… he’s a bigger bully than his dad.” What was she going to do? She wasn’t going to have many options, if Brock remembered what had happened. She’d have to leave Two Rides.

Stryder scoffed, unrolling his sleeves and rebuttoning them at his wrists. “I’m not scared of Brock. He can’t touch me.” He moved closer to Melody, tenderness in his gaze.

That wasn’t the point. Leave it to Stryder to only think of himself. Melody thrust her jaw to the side, anger pushing away her shame. “Yeah? That’s great for you and Candy. What about me?” She poked the center of her chest, blinking back tears. “I need to find work. When you leave, and we both know you will, what then?” She had to find a job and her frustration with her situation brought tears to her eyes, tears she refused to shed in front of him. No way did Stryder get to see more weakness from her. “The Stidwell family will block all the jobs. I won’t be able to get anything. I’ll either have to marry him or I’ll need…” She didn’t say anything as her throat constricted.

“I’ll give you money.” Stryder reached out, running his hand up and down her bare arm.

Melody jerked from his all-consuming touch, lifting her chin. “You’ll give me money? And what? If I need more, I text your accountant? Are you kidding me?” Her anger shivered over her and she suddenly didn’t want to be around him. No matter how much she’d missed him, she wanted to get away from the hypnotic pull of his gaze and the zinging scorch of his touch. “I’m not your mistress or whatever you’re suggesting. I won’t be kept.”

He shook his head, dropping his hand. “No… I mean, you can work for me. Yes, work for me.” He licked his lips like he was a little unsure what he was saying. “Not like that, though. I mean… I don’t mean… that.” He finished lamely, clenching his jaw.

Melody rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to work for you, Stryder.” Being attracted to her boss wasn’t an option and she already had to be in the same town as Stryder and her replacement in his heart.

Like that wouldn’t hurt like acid to her soul.

Stryder studied her and relaxed his stance. “Believe it or not, Melody, I’m not out to make your life miserable.” He reclaimed his seat at the table, motioning for Javier to continue. The server placed chocolate covered strawberries and chocolate mousse at their seats, bowing his way from the tent.

Melody glanced repeatedly at the sweet dessert. She hadn’t had anything decadent like that in a while. Her mouth watered.

“I know it’s your favorite, or it was. Please, have some.” He’d remembered and that swayed her more. He motioned toward her seat and waited for her to rejoin him before he continued speaking. “I’ll accept that you don’t want to work for me. If not me, then what would you like to do? Pick anywhere, what would you do, if you could choose anything?”

Anything? The option had never been presented to her, not really. And even though it couldn’t be truly asked or even partially granted, Melody pretended though, that for a brief second, it was a genuine question that she had a chance at. “If it didn’t matter about bills or anything?”

“You probably wouldn’t want to work, then, right?” Stryder picked up a strawberry and watched her, a knowing smile on the silky curve of his lower lip.

His smile struck a nerve, but she smothered it. She wanted that dessert. Melody shook her head. “No. I like working. Even if I had as much money as you, I would still want to work.” She scooped up a small bite of the mousse and paused before lifting it to her mouth. “I would work at the laundromat and florist.” She wasn’t embarrassed to say that. He’d asked and it was the truth. Simple, but true.

“But you could choose anywhere. You’d stay here in Two Rides?” Stryder studied her, his expression surprised as he paused a strawberry to his lips.

“If money wasn’t an issue, I’d still have my home. Just because some people don’t want to live here, doesn’t mean this isn’t my home.” She hadn’t meant to retort so harshly, but she was having a hard time keeping her true feelings concealed. She was mad at him, but also still in love with him. The confusion between the two emotions had her focusing inside when she should be focusing her attention on the conversation with him more.

Amused, he bit into the strawberry and after he swallowed, he continued. “Touché. Point made. So, the flower shop?”

“And the laundromat. You have to have something practical with the fanciful.” She quoted the same line Mrs. Singhe always shared when she talked about her business. “The flowers all make me happy, you know?” She’d always loved flowers and Mrs. Singhe always brought in orchids and hibiscus arrangements. The exotic flowers didn’t fit in with the Montana ruggedness, but Melody enjoyed them.

“I remember.” He took a bite of mousse, watching her all the while like she was more interesting than the dessert, which she didn’t believe.

Nothing was more interesting than that dessert – except the man sitting across from her. Melody lowered her spoon and part of her defenses. “Why are you back? No games, Stryder. I just want the honest truth, please.”

Stryder sighed, leaning his head back and fiddling with his spoon. “I need to reset. California is… intense for lack of a better word. I missed home, you know?”

As much as Melody didn’t want to admit it, Two Rides felt better with him in it. Even if he wasn’t hers, she felt like a piece of her had come home, too. Sitting across from him, lost in thought, she nodded slowly. “Yeah.” She answered a question he never asked.

“Why’d you stay?” Stryder sipped his water, unaware how his warm gaze was making her stomach do crazy things.

“And leave my dad? After mom left, well, you know, Dad lost it. He turned to alcohol and couldn’t keep a job shortly after you left. I can’t remember how, but we went from having enough to always trying to scrape by.” She licked her lips after another bite of the mousse. Almost whispering, she had to ask. “Where did you go?” She had to act like she didn’t care. She couldn’t care. If she did, he’d know she was invested emotionally in him still and her pride would never survive.

Stryder cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “Business school. I really did as I promised. A… unique opportunity opened up. I took it.”

It seemed like making money for him was as easy as breathing. Melody wasn’t sure why, but that irritated her even more. “Why didn’t you come back?” Melody didn’t need to point out that he’d failed to keep that promise. She’d been so upset about breaking the drinking pact and he’d destroyed so much more of her by breaking the other promises.

“What if I told you I came back but things weren’t how I’d expected them to be, so I left again.” Stryder narrowed his eyes, tapping his finger on the arm of his chair.

Melody chuckled. “Honestly? I’d probably ask if this was the same time as the letters I never ‘got’.” Letters and impossible visits where she never saw him? What was his game? It wasn’t like Stryder to blame his actions on fiction.

“Ah. Okay, let me just say then, I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.” He clenched his jaw like he bottled up his anger with a seething self-discipline she couldn’t claim. The way he lounged there in the gazebo with the twinkling lights all around them like it was as natural as sitting in an office chair made her palms damp.

Uncomfortable with the directness to his gaze, Melody cleared her throat and claimed one more bite of the mousse. “Well, it’s your home, right? I’m sure you’re always welcome.” She stood, tucking her chair back under the table. She pressed her lips together and looked over the elegant setup. “Can I help clean up? I really need to get back.”

“No, Javier and Smith will do it. It’s why they get paid the big bucks.” He winked and stood, replacing the linen napkin in his chair.

“Thank you. This was… It was too… I don’t have the words. I’ll never forget it.” She smiled, just weak enough that she hoped he would stay on the other side of the table. Her self-discipline was non-existent.

Stryder didn’t say anything and if he did, Melody didn’t hear as she rushed from the tent and across the grassy field.

Thankfully, it was dark and tears didn’t glow.