“What makes you think I’m not in love with her?” Was he? He wasn’t entirely sure. He was sure, however, that he wanted to be discussing this with her and not this guy.

“Missing riding crops, fucking her in secret, and your fiancée showing up repeatedly. People talk, Mr. Ransom. And this facility is a breeding ground for rumors and gossip. It’s one of the reasons I keep to myself and spend my time at the barn with the animals. They keep their mouths shut.”

“Lucky for me,” Van mumbled under his breath. He’d done some pretty unspeakable things with Stella in the presence of the horses.

“Look, I’m well aware that it’s none of my business. But she’s good for this place and I think it’s good for her. So I’d hate to see her jeopardize that over a fling with someone who’s just using her for a distraction from what he came here for.”

Van took two instinctual steps toward him.

Jesse’s hands came up in defense. “Not saying that’s what you’re doing. Let me be perfectly clear, I have no clue what you’re actually doing with her. I was just saying I’d hate to see her get hurt.”

“I don’t want that—to hurt her. To get her in trouble.”

Her. He just wanted her.

Not that he planned to tell this random dude that.

“Then you might want to ease up a little.” Jesse shrugged as if it were of no consequence to him. “Back it down on the watching her like a predator stalking prey at least. Because if I really was ‘keeping an eye out’ like my father asked me to, you would’ve just shown me plenty to get her fired.”

With that, the man got in his truck and left. Van watched his taillights disappear from view and placed his hands on his head.

Jesse Ramirez hadn’t told him anything. It was everything he already knew. She could do better, he was bad for her, and both of them would be decimated when this ended. She’d likely be jobless.

But hearing it from someone else, knowing people were talking about them— about her, really—in anything less than a positive light, gutted him.

He hoped that knowledge would be enough to keep him away from her, so he wouldn’t ruin her any further, whenever she returned.

Pulling up in her parents’ driveway felt surreal. She’d never been homesick. Not really. There wasn’t much to miss. The heavy weight of failure and disappointment thickened the air.

Her tires kicked up dust in the driveway around her as she approached the sprawling ranch. Glancing over at the house, she parked her white SUV and got out.

Deep breaths, Stella Jo. You can do this.

Her internal self-assurance became a mantra as she made her way to the front door.

Her mother flung it open before she’d even had time to knock.

“Well it’s about time, Estella Josephine. You made it. I was beginning to wonder if you’d even remember the way,” her mother greeted her at the door with a tight smile. “Dr. Lesley is going to come by for dinner and take a look at your back.”

“Hi, Mama,” she said as she stepped inside. “Of course I do. No one forgets how to get home.” Not that she’d ever felt like this place was her home. The house was slightly warmer than she remembered. New floral curtains, different from the ones they’d had when she was a kid, draped the windows, framing the sunlight that entered.

She opened her mouth to compliment the new décor, but her mother rushed on.

“Your daddy had to help out with a cattle run. But he’ll be home for supper. Come on in and put your stuff in your old room. We’ll chat and catch up. I can’t wait to hear more about this young man that called me. And you’re riding again. I was so happy to hear that.”

Stella sighed, already feeling her energy being usurped by her mother’s demands. She was pretty certain her father’s excuse for being gone was just that—an excuse.

“The young man who called you is very likely gay. And I just rode around a pasture a few times. Not much to tell.”

Her words didn’t deflate her mother at all. She ushered Stella to the back of the house. “Get cleaned up. Shower and do something a little more impressive with your hair and put your face on please. Dr. Lesley will be here soon.”

Dress up pretty, Stella Jo. Smile pretty.

The memories of pageants past twisted her gut. “Yes, ma’am.”

After dumping her stuff on her old bed, Stella Jo tried to ignore all the creepy doll eyes as she undressed. Her mother’s collection had apparently been stored in her empty bedroom.

The scalding shower slaked off a little of her courage, and she stared at her image in the mirror as she put on the dress her mother had laid out.

You’re doing it again.

Dropping the mascara from her hand, she gaped at her reflection. At the fading reminders of just how deeply Van had impacted her. The thought of her mother’s face at hearing that a man had actually fucked sense into her made her giggle.

She tried to imagine what Van would say about her letting her parents treat her this way. Her mom trying to pretty her up and her dad not bothering to show up. He’d probably tell them both they could go straight to hell. His girl was perfect any way she came in his opinion. The craziest part was that he truly seemed to believe that.

She’d left Dallas to come home without saying goodbye, hoping to be back before he noticed she was gone. Her intention was to avoid discussing this with him, but after everything he’d shared with her, she knew he deserved more than she’d given.

“Hell with this,” she muttered to herself, leaving her hair wet and pulling on jeans and a plain old white T-shirt. She wasn’t anyone’s doll and she certainly wasn’t dressing up for dinner with these people who didn’t know her and didn’t care to.

More importantly, she just wanted to get this over with and get back to her life in Dallas. To Van, if she were being honest. Because she didn’t care anymore if she lost her job. She knew where her real life was now. It had begun the moment he bumped into her. It was with him.

Her mother was practically convulsing at the dinner table. Stella couldn’t stop smiling.

“Dr. Lesley, in addition to checking Stella’s back, if you could recommend a good psychiatrist, that would be appreciated. She’s obviously lost her mind.”

Stella grinned as she cut into her steak. “Yes, Dr. Lesley. Clearly, because I didn’t want to wear a ball gown and forty pounds of makeup to dinner, I’m a nutjob.” She speared a piece of meat with her fork and pointed it at her mother. “Now there’s the picture of mental health right there. Grown woman, collects dolls, treats her grown-ass daughter like one.”

“That’s enough,” her father said from the head of the table.

She flinched. Two words. In her whole life, the man had never spoken—not directly to her, anyway. And when he finally had, those were the two words he’d chosen?

“He speaks,” she said, ignoring poor Dr. Lesley’s slumping shoulders as he tried to disappear between them. “All these years, Daddy, and that’s all you got? ‘That’s enough’? Because honestly, what the fuck?”

Her mother’s voice pierced the air before he could answer. “Estella Josephine Chandler, you will mind your mouth if you ever want to be welcome in this house again.”

Stella practically exploded out of her seat. “Welcome? Welcome in this house, Mother? When in God’s name have I ever been welcome in this house?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her mother glanced down and straightened the cloth napkin in her lap. “Sit down and finish your dinner.”

“No. I’m done. I’m way past done.” She shook her head and glared at both of them. “My whole life I’ve tried so hard—so damn hard to be good enough. To be perfect.” Her voice cracked, weakened by the threat of tears, but she continued. “I don’t know why you hate me so much, Daddy. I really don’t. And I’m finally learning to accept the fact that I never will.”