Chapter 16

Stryder

 

The amber liquid taunted Stryder as it moved like molten silk in the glass. He wanted a drink so bad, but with Melody as close as she was and his promise he’d broken multiple times fresh in his mind, Stryder only stared at the drink. She was so naïve to think he’d stay away from alcohol. Stryder was so naïve and stupid to think she wanted anything to do with him.

What was he thinking all these years? Her rejection of him hadn’t been subtle. Why did he think she might still want him? Blind love? Was that even possible? How could he be so brilliant with money and business, but be so inept when it came to matters of the heart? And that’s what it was, wasn’t it? He had no training. He’d always thought he’d be with Melody, even after Clint had said Melody didn’t want Stryder anymore, even after Stryder had seen Melody with Brock – in person!, even after all of that and his letters being ignored… Stryder still longed to be with Melody.

How was that possible?

Melody had burst into his home while he’d stared into the depths of his glass, regretting things he couldn’t erase and wishing for a chance to redo others.

Something in Melody’s eyes had trapped him. He couldn’t speak as she’d caught him in the act of one more thing she had expected better of from him. Stryder had stared, frozen, as Candy came in with her condescension.

Leaving faster than she’d arrived, Melody had taken a piece of Stryder with her.

Candy put a bottle on the table and thrust a hand on her hip. “Who was that, Stryder?”

Why was Candy there? As Stryder had contemplated everything he’d discovered – Brock and Melody’s engagement, that he’d bought a flower shop he didn’t need or want, and he was stuck in a town where he’d have the love of his life on someone else’s arm every day, Candy had shown up in all her practiced glory. Her sudden arrival and the bombardment on Stryder’s senses after the calm beauty of Montana and the peaceful serenity wrapped up in being home and around Melody had been more than he wanted to deal with. The alcohol had been inevitable, or so he’d thought.

Before Stryder had been able to tell Candy he needed her to leave, Melody had shown up and then fled. Why? What did she want? Hadn’t they said everything they needed to say earlier that day? Stryder didn’t know what else she could want, unless it was goodbye. Seeing her hurt and he wasn’t ready for that raw vulnerability or the mounting shame. He’d ignored her rejected. He’d ignored so much and he couldn’t figure out why.

She’d seen him with the whiskey and his shame was laid out for all to see. Relief gave him the strength to put the drink down. He didn’t need it. He needed to get his head straight. He had to find out why she’d come.

Candy turned to face him, narrowing her eyes. With a definitive pout to her glossy red lips, Candy approached Stryder and ran her fingernails across his chest, her nails scratching on his shirt front. “Stryder, honey, who was that and why was she in your house?”

Careful not to be too impatient or rude, Stryder reached out and gripped Candy’s shoulders. “Candy, we’re not going to work. I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve never been interested. You need to take no for an answer.” Even if Melody didn’t want him, Stryder couldn’t be with someone like Candy. She didn’t appreciate starlight or twinkling lights by a creek. Her idea of hard work was how long it took to make a list for the maid.

“But I came a long way to this dirty place for you.” She pulled back from him, pressing her hand to her ample cleavage.

“Not for me. You didn’t ask me. You just did it.” Something familiar in the words smacked him in his face. Melody hadn’t asked him for a handout. All she wanted was to keep her dignity. He wanted to buy everything for her, but that wasn’t what she wanted. He could respect that. And he’d be hanged before he’d admit to anyone that that realization just made him love Melody more.

Stryder ducked his head to catch Candy’s eye. “Go home and find a guy that likes the same things you do.” She deserved to be happy. Everyone did.

She smoothed the wrinkles in her forehead and cocked her head to the side. “Do you think Trevor likes to shop?”

Stryder laughed. “Trevor? I don’t know. You should ask him.” Stryder would have to remember to give Trevor a heads up that he’d sicced Candy on him. His close friend would never forgive him.

Walking Candy to the car, Stryder waited while she climbed into the rental and drove carefully down the drive. He didn’t regret anything with Candy because he hadn’t been invested.

Turning to face Melody’s home, Stryder smiled at the sight of the light coming from her place. The power was back on. Did she know it was because of him? He furrowed his brow. If she knew, she was probably mad at him for helping where he hadn’t been asked.

Stryder took a deep breath. He hadn’t heard a vehicle drive up when Melody got there. For whatever reason, she’d walked all that way to say something, to do something. Whatever it was, she’d cared enough to make the effort. She’d cared.

Being delusional about Melody had to be a gift he had. He didn’t care. Maybe he could catch her. He had to run after her. Beg for just a chance. If that’s what he had to do, then so be it. His pride wasn’t worth anything, if he didn’t have Melody. They weren’t finished – at least he didn’t feel like they were. That had to count for something.

Grabbing onto the bucket of his hat so it wouldn’t fly off his head, Stryder took off across the field. He had to do something about her living that close. If she was going to be with Brock, maybe Stryder should build a wall or something. He couldn’t have her that close and not be his. He couldn’t handle her being in the same country when he lived in California and not be his, let alone down the street.

He slowed as he got closer to the creek. The sun had set a while back and he didn’t want to fall into the water. Pausing by the log-bridge, he caught his breath at the sight of Melody sitting on the swing, leaning her cheek against the rope holding the tire to the tree. She sniffed as if she cried and that gave him more hope than anything else could have.

A vision like her deserved better than a man like Brock Stidwell.

Did Stryder have a chance to change her mind, or had he lost everything before he’d had a chance to fight for it?