A Real Cowboy Always Trusts His Heart Read online

  "Ryder?" Lissa laughed and waved her hand. "No, of course not. Not that he's not a great guy, of course, but hell, no."

  The surge of relief was so profound that Zoey slumped, almost gasping as she tried to catch her breath. Not Ryder. Her hands started shaking, and she hid them in her lap as she tried to cover up her reaction. "No? Which Stockton, then?"

  "Travis." Lissa's face softened with pure happiness. "You remember him, right?"

  The musician whose music was being piped in through the speakers. That made sense. "Yes, of course." Zoey remembered them all. Her brother had been best friends with the twins Ryder and Maddox Stockton, which meant that he knew the rest of the Stocktons as well. As Dane's little sister, she'd hung out with them a lot, and knew them all.

  They'd been a rough group from a tough home situation. They scared most of the other kids in school, but not Zoey, because she'd seen the side of them they didn't show anyone else. The rest of the world saw aggressive, dangerous boys. She'd seen the loyal protectors who'd taken her into their circle.

  She was the one who would wake up in the middle of the night to find one or more of the brothers sleeping on her floor…and it was usually Ryder. Her throat tightened, remembering how safe she'd feel when she'd wake up and see Ryder asleep in her room, knowing that no one, especially her uncle, could get to her when he was there. "Yes," she said softly. "I remember Travis. I remember all of them."

  Lissa laughed. "How could anyone forget a Stockton, right? Those men are a force unto themselves." She winked. "Ryder's not married. He's never even had a date in all the years I've known him. Completely single."

  Zoey tried unsuccessfully to not care about that awesome piece of news. "Ryder's social life isn't my business."

  Lissa raised her brows. "No?"

  "Not at all." Zoey felt her cheeks flush even as relief settled deep in her gut. Ryder was still single. She knew she shouldn't care, but she couldn’t help it. She cared.

  Dammit. What was wrong with her? Ryder was her past, a gritty, ugly past that had left her heart so broken that it still hadn't completely healed from him. She didn't want to open that door again, not today, not ever.

  "Of course it's not." Lissa grinned. The coffee machine beeped, and she turned away. "Large?"

  "Sure—" The door jangled, and Zoey instinctively looked over her shoulder.

  Four Stocktons walked in.

  The oldest, Chase, entered first, tall and muscular. Then, behind him, was Travis. After him, Maddox, Ryder's twin, then, behind him, last in line…Ryder.

  She froze, her heart thundering. There was nowhere for her to hide. Nowhere for her to go.

  He wasn't supposed to be in town. He wasn't supposed to be here.

  But he was.

  He was in deep conversation with Maddox, and didn't look over as they walked in. His cowboy hat was tipped back, letting her see his blue eyes, his whiskered jaw, and the way his lips curved in a smile. God, that smile had melted her heart so many times as a teenager.

  He was taller now. Broader. Just bigger. More man. His jeans were faded, splattered with mud, and his boots were heavy work boots instead of cowboy boots. His gray tee shirt had paint on it, ragged and worn, just like he'd always been.

  But there was a presence to him that hadn't been there before. He held himself like he belonged. Back when she'd known him, he had a swagger designed to tell the world to fuck off. He didn't have it anymore, but there was a harder edge to him, a rough, untamed edge that made her belly tighten.

  "Good morning, gentlemen," Lissa called out. "Did none of you notice we have a visitor?"

  Zoey winced. "No, don't—"

  But it was too late. All four men looked over, but it was Ryder who she watched.

  His gaze darted around the café, and then it landed on her.

  He stopped, his face going utterly still.

  Neither of them moved.

  She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. All she could do was stare at him, at those blue eyes she'd dreamed of so many times, at the man who'd broken her heart more than she'd thought was possible.

  The man she'd never been able to forget.

  Chapter Two

  Ryder Stockton caught his breath when he saw Zoey's face for the first time in over a decade. She was back.

  Her eyes. God, those eyes he'd dreamed of so many times. That mouth, the one he could still remember kissing. The last time he'd seen her, those green eyes had been full of tears and accusation, of hate that he'd completely deserved.

  He'd let her go that day. He'd made her go. He'd sacrificed everything to give her what she needed, to free her to live the life she deserved.

  And now, she was back.

  Here.

  Twenty feet away from him.

  She stared at him, her face pale, her lips pressed together in silence.

  He remembered the curve of her jaw, the slant of her nose, the flush of her cheeks. She was the same, but there was a wisdom and strength to her that hadn't been there before. She seemed taller now, stronger, a woman, not a girl. But at the same time, she looked exactly as she had so long ago. It was his Zoey, the one he'd promised to protect forever, the one he'd failed.

  The need to go to her was so strong, so visceral, that it took all his strength to stay still, but he didn't go over to her. How could he? She hadn't needed him back then, and she didn't need him now.

  "Zoey!" Chase walked over to her and pulled her into a hug.

  She dragged her gaze off Ryder and hugged his brother. "Hi, Chase."

  Ryder inhaled at the sound of her voice, and something deep inside him vibrated, almost violently. He'd missed her. Hell, he'd missed her so much that his chest actually hurt.

  Travis pushed Chase aside to embrace her. Then Maddox. His brothers encircled her, welcoming her, asking her about her trip, when she'd arrived, where she was staying.

  He didn't move.

  His feet were stuck to the floor, his legs frozen as he listened to her talk, letting the sound of her voice wash over him. He'd forgotten what her voice felt like, how deeply it touched him, how much he'd yearned to hear it.

  She looked over at him as she chatted with his brothers, her face pinched and tense. Because he was there? Was it his presence that was causing such pain and discomfort on her face?

  Shit. He should leave. Give her space.

  But he couldn’t make himself do it.

  He watched Lissa hand her a cup of coffee. Zoey grabbed it and then slid off the stool, waving off his brothers as she ducked past them. She hurried toward the door, her gaze sliding toward Ryder as she neared.

  Jesus.

  She was so close.

  They met gazes, and for a moment, he thought she would say something, anything, to break the ice, to let him know he was forgiven.

  But her gaze dropped, and she turned away, hurrying out the door.

  The bell jangled, as he watched her scurry past the front window, heading down the sidewalk, away from him.

  He let her go. He had to let her go, just like before. She deserved it—

  "Was she always that sad?" Lissa asked softly.

  Ryder looked back over his shoulder at Lissa, who had moved up behind him. "She looked sad?"

  She nodded. "Broken, even. From the moment she walked in."

  Shit. He glanced back at his brothers, who all nodded. "She didn't even make eye contact," Chase said. "She's not the Zoey who left here."

  Son of a bitch.

  Protectiveness surged through Ryder. No one messed with Zoey. Ever. With a muttered oath, he sprinted for the door, yanked it open, and ran outside. "Zoey!"

  Zoey closed her eyes when she heard Ryder shout her name. His voice was deep and strong, deeper than it had once been, but instantly familiar, sliding under her skin like a caress she'd been longing for. Ryder.

  God, how long she'd yearned to hear his voice. To hear him say her name. To have him chase her down, demand she not leave him, beg her to stay. For years, she'd dreamed of walkin
g down the street in Boston, only to find him racing after her, having tracked her down after all that time.

  He'd never been there.

  He'd never come after her.

  He'd never shouted her name…until now.

  She swallowed, steeling herself as she turned to face him. Her fingers tightened around the coffee as he jogged toward her, in that same, athletic stride he'd had so long ago.

  After years of being in his constant presence, she hadn't seen him, talked to him, or even texted him since the day after her prom, a gaping loss that had carved indelible scars into her heart. And now, he was walking toward her, his tan cowboy hat pulled low over his forehead, almost shielding his face from her.

  She could barely even recognize him as the youth who had hid her innocently in his bed many nights when she'd been hiding from her uncle and his lecherous tendencies, swearing he'd protect her with his life if her uncle ever came for her.

  Approaching her was a hard, weathered cowboy, with dust on his boots, and weariness in his strong shoulders, nothing like the boy she'd hung around with.

  He came to a stop in front of her, and tipped his hat back, revealing his blue eyes, the eyes she knew so well. "Hey, ZoeyBear."

  ZoeyBear. His nickname for her, his reminder that deep inside her was the strength of a grizzly that could handle whatever life threw at her. It was him. It was really him. She didn't know what to say. It had been so long. So awkward. So silent. There were a million things to say…and nothing at all to say.

  Honestly. What was she supposed to say to the guy who, prior to taking her virginity on prom night, had been her protector, her best friend, her defense against the world? The guy who had shattered her heart into a million pieces and hadn't stayed to help her fix it.

  Nothing. She could think of absolutely nothing to say.

  Regret flickered across his face. "No response?"

  "Ryder." His name slipped out, an aching whisper.

  "I'm so sorry," he said softly, his voice almost breaking with emotion. "I'm so sorry for what I did."

  It was the apology she'd always wanted, and yet, now that she had it, she realized that it didn't change anything. It didn't change what had happened, and how completely she'd been shattered. She'd trusted him with more than her heart, more than her soul. She shook her head, fighting against the sudden tears. "It was ten years ago. It doesn't matter."

  "It matters." He took her hand, his fingers rough and callused. "I should never have made love to you that night. It was wrong."

  She stared at their entwined fingers. That was what he regretted? Making love to her? He didn't regret losing her? "It was a mutual decision. It was fine."

  "Zoey." He gently touched her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. "Where's the sparkle that once danced in those green eyes?" he asked softly.

  "It died a long time ago," she whispered.

  Regret filled his face. "Because of me? Did I break you?"

  He looked so sad, so regretful that her heart ached for him. "No," she admitted truthfully. "It has been so much more than you." He was but one factor in the life that had become more than she could handle. "I'll be fine, though. That's why I'm here. A little R&R, and I'll be back at work in a few months." Maybe. She hoped. She prayed. But she feared she was wrong.

  His eyes darkened. "I thought you were moving home for good."

  "No. Just six months." The timeframe rolled more easily off her lips this time, but with Ryder standing in front of her, suddenly six months felt both agonizingly short and unbearably long to be around him.

  His fingers tightened around her hand for a split second, then he released her. The loss of contact with him made her want to cry, but she pulled back, standing straighter.

  "You're going to leave again," he said. It wasn't a statement, really. More of an acknowledgment of a truth he had to process.

  She nodded. "I have to. You know I don't fit in here. I never did."

  He said nothing. He just looked at her, his gaze searching for the truth she could never hide from him.

  I missed you. She wanted to say it, to beg him to hug her, to fold her into that embrace that always made her world better. But there was a wall between them now, a wall that she didn't know how to take down.

  "You need help unpacking?" he asked.

  She hesitated. "No—"

  "I'd like to help you."

  She thought of all the boxes lined up in her living room.

  She thought of how achingly lonely it had been waking up in that apartment a few hours ago.

  She thought of how long it had been since she had felt okay.

  "You need a friend," he said quietly. "I'm that friend."

  She wanted to say yes. She wanted to beg him to fill her little apartment with his warmth, his humor, and his kindness. But she'd made that mistake before, thinking that he could fill the emptiness inside her, thinking any man could fill the emptiness inside her.

  She knew she had to do it herself this time. "Thanks, but I'm all set. I'll see you around."

  Then, before she could change her mind, she turned and walked away.

  She almost managed not to look back to see if he was watching her, but when she reached the corner, she took a quick peek.

  He was standing exactly where she'd left him, waiting for her to turn around.

  Her heart leapt, and she hesitated. She didn't need romance. She didn't want romance. But a friend? A friend who knew all her secrets, all her fears, all her weaknesses? A friend who always knew how to make her feel stronger than she was?

  There was only one person in the world who was that kind of a friend, and he was standing right there.

  Damn him.

  With a muttered curse, she turned around and stalked back over to him. "Here's the deal," she said, poking him in the chest. "You're right. I need my friend Ryder. Not the asshole who took my virginity and then dumped my ass the next day for reasons he refused to explain. If my friend Ryder can show up at my apartment, then he's welcome. If he brings the jerk who broke my heart, then he can't. Got it?"

  He grinned. "Got it."

  "Fine. 321 Maple Grove Apartments, number 3D. Bring groceries. I have no food."

  "I'm on it. Give me two hours, and I'll be there."

  She nodded. "Okay, then." She handed him the cup of coffee. "I can't run with this. It's yours."

  He took it, his fingers brushing against hers. "Hey, Zoey?"

  She started to jog away from him. "What?"

  "Welcome home."

  Chapter Three

  Ryder hadn't been to the Maple Grove Apartments before. He'd figured they were some new condo development perfect for Zoey and her high-class Boston life.

  He wasn't prepared for them to be shitty, rundown buildings with rickety stairs, peeling paint, and missing gutters.

  Swearing under his breath, he pulled in between a decent rental car he assumed was Zoey's, and a rusted pickup truck with two kegs in the back. There were old, faded lawn chairs strewn around an old barbeque grill in the browned-out grass to the side of the building, along with an overflowing trash can that had a couple empty cases of beer tossed beside it. There were burned spots on the grass, as if the residents were more interested in drinking than making sure the coals stayed in the grill.

  How could she be living here? This wasn't supposed to be how her life turned out.

  Scowling, he parked his truck, slung six grocery bags over his shoulders, and then carried the other four in his arms as he strode across the parking lot, narrowing his eyes at a twenty-something kid smoking a joint on the bottom step. "You live here?"

  The dude gazed at him with bleary eyes. "What's it to you?"

  "The woman in 3D is under my protection. Make sure everyone knows it."

  He raised his brows. "The pretty one?"

  Ryder narrowed his eyes. "The one you don't get to talk to."

  The youth stood up, tall and lean in his black leather jacket and nose ring. "You don't get to tell me who to talk to."


  Ryder tensed. "Did I mention my name?"

  "Who gives a shit?"

  "My name's Ryder Stockton. You may have heard of me or my brothers?"

  Fear flickered in the youth's eyes for a split second, then he shrugged. "Maybe."

  "Stay away from her. Got it?"

  "Whatever." He tossed his butt aside and stood up. "Get a life, old man." Then he walked off, sneering at Ryder once he figured he was out of range.

  "You think I can't reach you from here?" Ryder asked conversationally.

  The kid paled and took off in a dead sprint, disappearing around the corner.

  Ryder sighed and looked around, but he didn't see anyone else loitering. The curtain in one window fluttered, as if someone had been watching him. Shit. He didn't want Zoey living here. He'd sacrificed everything so this wouldn't be her life. What had gone wrong?

  With a rising sense of anger, Ryder took the steps two at a time, following the signs to the third floor. Zoey's apartment was the second to last on the left, the door opening off an exterior landing that anyone could access. The apartment at the end, next to Zoey's, had more empty cases of beer stacked up outside, another rusted barbeque grill that had to be against fire code, and cigarette butts scattered on the ground.

  Damn.

  He let out a grim sigh as he reached Zoey's. Her front door was open, and he could see cardboard boxes stacked everywhere.

  No security whatsoever.

  Shit.

  "Hey, Ryder!"

  He turned to see Zoey walking toward him along the landing. The moment he saw her, the tension inside him eased. It was just so damn good to be near her again, after all that time. She was in sweatpants and a tee shirt, her hair in a ponytail, wearing what looked like a pair of decades-old sneakers. The clothes were baggy, and she looked adorable in them. He'd always loved her in sweats. Her body had filled out since she'd left, giving her more curves that were tempting as all hell. He cleared his throat, dragging his gaze off her body. "Hey, ZoeyBear."

  She smiled, a big-ass smile that made him grin. "You came." She sounded pleased, which made him a little less cranky.