Page 65 of Sweet Madness
I’ve known that from the moment I saw her back on the empty road.
And I don’t need the goddamn reminder now.
“That’s not what I meant, fuc?—”
“I’ll keep you posted. Take care of yourself, cousin.” With that, I end the call.
I pocket the phone and look out over the ranch, my thoughts drifting back to the source of my current turmoil, forgetting all about the call and the hurt it invoked.
Despite the complications, my feelings, and the risks, I am determined to see this through—to protect her, no matter the cost. At first, I think of her as a job—a tedious one—but now her safety triumphs over everything else. I need her safe, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make sure she stays that way.
I also need her smiles like I need my next breath—something I come to terms with today.
What I also come to terms with is the fact that I’m more messed up than I initially thought. Why is that? Because the idea of Ellaiza Kenton leaving this ranch and going back to her life cuts me deep to my bones.
As I look at the tulip fields in the distance, a sudden, torturous memory flashes through my mind—a memory that tightens my heart with conflicting emotions.
The almost-kiss.
The image of her sweet face, so close to my own, fills my thoughts, stirring feelings of longing and guilt. Ella is a client; she’s not mine.
She’s a young woman whose kind, happy nature and adorable stubbornness have struck a chord within me and pulled at my dusty heartstrings. Despite our professional relationship and the age gap that separates us, I can’t deny the attraction I feel towards her. I am like a moth to a flame, and every day spent with her I am slowly losing all my control.
I rub a hand wearily across my face, grappling with the weight of my emotions. Suddenly, I can’t breathe, even when I am outside. The air seems to not reach my lungs.
The ranch, usually a place of solace, now seems to echo with the mess she’s made of my mind and heart. I try to bury my unwanted and growing feelings beneath layers of duty, responsibility, and indifference, but they persist, stubborn and undeniable. I can’t fucking stop them from growing and taking hold of my entire existence.
“She deserves someone better. Someone like her,” I mutter to the wind, as if trying to convince my heart and conscience. “Someone who can give her the life she deserves and someone not as jaded and broken.”
I feel Peppermint nuzzle my shoulder, as if sensing my distress. I pat his neck absently, drawing comfort from my beast’s steady presence.
But the memory of that almost kiss lingers, refusing to be cast aside. It’s a fleeting moment, a breath caught between Ella and me—a moment that reveals the depth of my feelings for her, however forbidden it might be. However wrong it is.
Deep down, I know that the memory of that almost kiss will linger for a long time—a silent reminder of the messed-up emotions that bind me to the sweet heiress who has unexpectedly stolen parts of me I thought dead for so long.
Having had enough hiding for one day, I contemplate heading back to the ranch house until a movement in the distance catches my eye—a figure amidst the tulip fields that stretch out like a kaleidoscope of pink under the afternoon sun.
Squinting against the glare, I recognize the unmistakable silhouette of Ella, riding gracefully on top of Geraldine.
Thud. Thud. Fucking thud.
My heart starts pounding in a steady yet strong rhythm as I watch Ella riding peacefully through the fields.
I should turn away and get back to the house, yet instead of listening to my brain, I follow my stupid and masochistic heart.
I quickly jump on Peppermint and ride through the expansive tulip fields, enjoying the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow over everything, enhancing the vivid hues of pink petals swaying gently in the breeze. Peppermint trots gracefully, the sound of hooves on soft earth melding with the quiet rustling of leaves.
In the distance, I spot Ella moving gracefully through the sea of flowers. Her frame against the backdrop of blooming tulips looks ethereal. Some loose curls dance in the wind, reflecting the sunlight like cascading shadows. Beautiful. Perfect. Not mine.
As if sensing me, she turns, catching sight of me in the distance. My breath hitches when her face lights up with a smile that seems to radiate warmth, even from afar. My heart stops in my chest as she keeps looking my way with the brightest smile on her face. I realize right there and then that no one has ever looked at me the way she does. She looks at me as if I am worthy—as if my existence brings her joy.
I can’t help but feel captivated by all that is Ella Kenton, as if time itself slows to savor this very moment. My heart pounds in rhythm with her as she rides through the tulip field.
With every stride, I draw nearer, the tulips blurring into a kaleidoscope of pink around me, but my focus remains fixed on her—the vision of beauty and grace that seems to belong to another world.
As we finally draw close, I slow Peppermint to a gentle stop. Ella meets me halfway, Geraldine prancing lightly as if sharing in Ella’s joy. We stand there, amidst the tulips, surrounded by the vibrant pink of the flowers—her favorite.
My gaze is fixed on her, and I find it impossible to focus on just one thought when a million cross my mind.