Jace had never loaded a bull so fast in his life. Even Lyle was impressed by how quickly his boss directed the transfer and avoided Beau Tighlman’s attempt to wrangle him into conversation about ranching and cattle breeding.
But Jace wasn’t in a mood to stick around. He’d been two hours out from the Tighlman ranch when he’d decided to call Lily Mae. At first he’d not been bothered when she didn’t answer. But as the day had worn on with one call after another going to voicemail, he began to get a bad feeling.
“Her car’s gone,” one of the other ranch hands told him when he called to check, but no one had seen her leave. Now he drove as fast as he could safely haul a stock trailer with a one-ton bull on deck.
“She’s probably just shopping.” Lyle had been casting Jace concerned glances since they’d gotten on the road, and Jace realized how it must look. He was usually calm and cool where women were concerned, aloof even. But here he was, hitting redial every fifteen minutes, his agitation growing with each replay of her voicemail.
“Something’s wrong. She wasn’t herself yesterday.”
“Did she tell you what was wrong?” Lyle asked.
Jace drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and shook his head. “No.”
He could see Lyle shift uncomfortably in his seat. “Boss…”
“Save it, Lyle,” Jace growled. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“Hold up.” Lyle shot his boss an irritated look. “I know I work for you, but I was your best friend before I was your foreman, and unless I’m wrong, I still am. Now, I’ve never seen you happier since Lily Mae came back into your life. But I’ve never seen you more obsessed, either. And I get it; she’s a beautiful woman and you’ve always loved her. But I said it before and I’ll say it again, Jace, there’s a big block of her life you know nothing about, and your being this bent out of shape seems to prove that maybe you don’t trust her as much as you should be trusting a woman you’re about to marry. And maybe deep down, it’s because you know there’s probably a reason. Maybe you ought to trust your instincts instead.”
It had been just the kind of frank talk that he could count on from Lyle, and just the kind of frank talk Jace realized he needed to hear. He’d let himself fall back into the relationship with Lily Mae as if she’d never left Texas in the first place, let alone for seven long years.
But he still wasn’t going to think the worst of her, not yet. Still hours away from his ranch, he imagined her down at Smith’s Florist’s, her pretty brow furrowed with the angst of trying to decide between sunflowers or Gerbera daisies for the table centerpieces, or at the local bakery ordering an extra layer on the wedding cake, oblivious to the fact that she’d left her phone in the car.
He imagined putting her over his knee and lecturing her about how worried he’d been when he couldn’t reach her, imagined her pretty, tearful apologies as he spanked her tight, round buttocks from white to pink to red as she kicked, her pussy growing wetter with each crack of his punishing hand.
He imagined her offering her own special apology later, as she bent over the bed, her legs spread, her bottom arched toward him. He imagined himself reaching down to place his hand over the imprint of one still visible on her bottom. He imagined her moaning as his fingers found her slick pussy and his fingers pinched her clit just hard enough to remind her of his mastery.
“Jace?” Lyle’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“What?”
“Speed. Need to watch it.”
Jace looked down; his foreman was right. He eased off the accelerator, counting the hours for home.
*
Hours later he stood in the kitchen trying not to panic. Lily Mae’s car was gone. Her phone was on the counter, the screen indicating a string of missed calls from his number. Jace knew she’d never leave without it. Beside him, Lyle stood, silent, and Jace avoided looking at his friend’s sympathetic, knowing expression.
Wordlessly, he walked into the bedroom. Lily Mae was a good housekeeper. She always made the bed, but other than her soft presence, it was as he’d left it, the covers thrown back and disheveled.
With mounting dread, he walked into the closet. The pink suitcase that usually stood out like a sore thumb was gone. Above it, several hangers stood empty. Her favorite cowboy boots were gone. Jace turned to see Lyle standing outside the closet door.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but if you gave her any access to your money, you might want to check your bank account,” Lyle said.
Ordinarily, Jace would have been offended, but he knew that his friend was only looking out for his best interest. Reluctantly, he opened the banking app on his phone. He wasn’t surprised to see she’d withdrawn a thousand dollars from their joint account; what did surprise him was that she’d not taken more. Why that amount? The obvious answer was a plane ticket, but to where? And why?