Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders 11)

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

Once again Chase was glad he’d cashed out his portion of the McKay Ranch with the change in ownership. The financial windfall provided him options and freedom. Yet…he half-wondered if not having a burning need for that prize money contributed to him slacking off on tour.

“When do you plan on bein’ here?” Kane asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll call you after I get in.”

“Fair enough. There’s a key under the bottom porch step.”

“Thanks, Kane, I really appreciate it.”

“Glad to help. Drive safe.”

Chapter Two

“Ava! Over here!”

Ava Cooper ignored the photographers snapping pictures as she waited for the valet to bring her Mazerati around.

“Come on,” the photographer cajoled. “Give us something. Anything.”

She recognized the fat, balding man, the most aggressive of the paparazzi. In the not-too-distant past she would’ve given him a sound bite. Now they circled her, waiting to swoop in and pick off the remaining bits of her dignity.

Fucking vultures.

“Ava. Open up to us. You know our readers are on your side. Don’t you have anything to say to your fans?”

Her black sports car rumbled at the curb. She skirted the back end, colliding with the valet. “Pardon me, Miss Cooper.”

“No problem. I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” Ava peeled out, burning rubber before she even buckled her seat belt.

The traffic was light on the freeway this time of day as she headed…where? Home? Most paparazzi were on to fresher stories, but a couple persistent buggers detailed her comings and goings on a Twitter feed. If she didn’t leave her house for a few days, rumors would fly she was too depressed, too drunk, too emotionally eviscerated to be seen in public. If she ran errands, or met with her agent, or visited her friends and family, or dined out, she’d put on a brave face through her personal heartache.

Ava wasn’t sure when the ridiculousness of the situation occurred to her. She was a B-list actress. Why would anyone give a shit about her?

Because in the last month, her life, as she’d known it, had been turned upside down, and everyone gawked at a train wreck. She hadn’t been in a state of denial as much as shock. It wasn’t every day a woman found out via press conference that the man she’d been involved with for months was in a relationship…with another man.

Fucking Jake Vasquez. Talk about a double whammy—he’d betrayed her on both a personal and professional level.

They’d met while filming a low-budget independent romantic comedy in which they’d been cast in the lead roles. Jake was the most exquisite man she’d ever seen. Dark black hair, dreamy golden eyes, a killer body comprised of sinewy muscle beneath an expanse of luminescent olive-toned skin. Their attraction was instantaneous, and by the end of the film shoot, they were lovers. After the movie wrapped, the fall TV taping season started. Jake’s popular TV show was filmed in Vancouver; hers was filmed in LA. But never during those months they maintained a long-distance relationship had she suspected Jake preferred men in bed.

The suspicion didn’t even kick in the night Jake showed up at her place, half-liquored up, with his new friend Decker. Jake’s increasing sexual aggressiveness with her in front of his buddy had gotten Decker all hot and bothered, so Jake spontaneously suggested a threesome.

Growing up in California, Ava had seen plenty of kinky things and even experimented with a few. But she’d shied away from a ménage, mostly because men wanted girl-on-girl action. The thought of kissing and touching another woman did nothing for her.

But two guys catering to her? That’d been a no-brainer. The three of them had spent all night and part of the following day in bed. Even now, Ava overheated recalling the erotic hedonism. Sandwiched between two hot men, bodies slick with sweat and pressed tightly together as they f**ked to exhaustion.

At the time, she’d been blown away by Jake’s willingness to cede control to another man. To do anything and everything Decker suggested. Or demanded. Watching Jake’s beautiful face lost in pleasure as Decker f**ked him. Seeing how expertly Jake sucked Decker off. Finding their stamina as arousing as their unexpected tenderness in the aftermath of such aggressiveness. In retrospect, she should’ve known Jake and Decker were too well attuned to each other.

The fact the paparazzi had caught Jake and Decker together in a full-body clinch at a g*y club late one night in LA should’ve warranted a warning phone call from Jake. But no.

Before either of their publicity teams were informed, Jake held a press conference, admitting he could no longer lie about his true sexual orientation. Then he’d claimed both the movie studio and Ava had known their relationship was a sham to build buzz for the movie—which was a total lie.

She’d been completely blindsided. The movie studio scrapped the entire publicity campaign for the movie a mere month from release. The movie tanked. Her phone rang off the hook with requests for interviews. Paparazzi camped out around her house, forcing her to hire security guards to keep the press off her private stretch of beach.

How did she bounce back from this? Did she even want to? The brutal truth was she’d been frustrated in recent years with her acting career. Every role was supposed to be the vehicle for landing her a “big” breakout role. Hadn’t happened. Now her years of hard work were overshadowed by events beyond her control. With the scandal simmering in the backs of directors’ and producers’ minds, she’d have to work twice as hard to prove herself.

To who?”

Her parents had never gauged her worth by her public success; they believed pursuing an acting career was a waste. As an heiress to the Cooper fortune, which included a string of hotels, a tire manufacturing business and a line of power tools, her mother had hoped Ava would join the family business. But Ava knew being a bottom-line businesswoman would stifle her creativity, regardless of the avenue she followed after this latest debacle blew over.

Maybe she should run away and join the circus.

As she waited in traffic, she happened to catch a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror. Ugh. She looked like dog shit. She dialed her go-to guy for hair and makeup, cajoling him into squeezing her in immediately.

Hours later, when Ava exited the salon, she had an extra spring in her step because no one had recognized her.

Keeping up with her fab idea to run away, she needed to find someplace outside her normal haunts. Someplace nobody would ever think to look for her. Someplace remote. Unpopulated.