Hero complex, p.1
Hero Complex, page 1
Hero Complex
Bluestone Series: Book Three
Isobel Reed
Table of Contents
Title Page
Hero Complex (Bluestone Series, #3)
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EPILOGUE
SEE WHERE THE BLUESTONE SERIES BEGAN: | Love Tools
Expiry Dating
DON’T MISS THE FOURTH BOOK IN THE BLUESTONE SERIES: | Love Shots | Chapter One
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.
If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher. In such case the author has not received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Hero Complex: Bluestone Series: Book Three
Copyright © 2023 Isobel Reed
All rights reserved.
ISBN: (print) 978-1-958136-49-2
(ebook) 978-1-958136-48-5
Inkspell Publishing
207 Moonglow Circle #101
Murrells Inlet, SC 29576
Cover art by: Fantasia Frog Designs
Edited by: Yezanira Venecia
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The copying, scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
DEDICATION
For my friends- the inspiration and embodiment of the strong and funny women that I love to write.
CHAPTER ONE
The sun wasn’t even up yet, and Ivy was already having an existential crisis. Even the warm, orange glow from the table lamp did nothing to flatter the reflection staring back at her. One thing was for sure though, no matter how long she looked, nothing was going to change anytime soon.
Internally she berated herself. She didn’t have time for this. She had chores to do. Horses to feed. And a sexy-as-hell man to try not to humiliate herself in front of.
“Fucking YouTube.” She huffed under her breath before dragging herself away from the tilt of her floor-length mirror.
Damn you, Pricilla28! I’m not feeling sexy OR confident. What a load of crap.
There was no time for Ivy to wallow in the YouTube star’s betrayal. Or dwell on her poor judgment at trying out a new hair tutorial at stupid o’clock in the morning. Right now, she had things to do. And that meant leaving the confines of her bedroom with her new hairstyle, which was much more male Viking warrior than the sexy, feminine goddess look she was going for.
Damnit all to hell.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Ivy dragged herself and her manly braid downstairs in search of caffeine. Caffeine wouldn’t disappoint her at least. Caffeine was consistent. Reliable. Not at all filled with lies.
With coffee brewed, she was just one sip away from bliss when a loud knock had her cursing again. Back was that funny feeling in her stomach. She knew exactly who was at the door. It had been the same person for the past five days now: Ace. Sweet, kind, thoughtful Ace. Quite possibly the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
Stop swooning and get it together.
After attempting to plaster on her most neutral, non-swoony facial expression, she made her way through the living room and down the familiar dark-green hallway. A frown momentarily cracking her mask as she took in her surroundings. All this time she’d been worrying about the state of herself instead of the state of her house. What must he think?
Oh, I don’t know, maybe that the house is in just as bad shape as everything else in your life?
Ignoring the shockingly loud creak, she flung the front door open and was treated to the best view in town. Her eyes first darted to that perfectly chiseled chest. Thank the Lord for her laundry skills because if she didn’t know any better, she was the reason his shirt was currently straining to contain his pecks, and she just couldn’t bring herself to be sad about it. Or guilty. She’d done womankind a service, if anything.
When her gaze finally drifted up to the dark stubble dotting his square jaw, it was his intense blue eyes that captured her. She was drowning in them. So much so, it wasn’t until Ace cleared his throat that she snapped out of the spell he had her under.
“Mornin’, darlin’.” There was that deep, smooth Southern drawl that never failed to set butterflies swarming in her stomach. “Can I come in?”
That’s about the time she realized she still hadn’t said anything.
“Of course. Sorry, sorry. I’m still half asleep. Come in, come in. I’ve got coffee—well, I just made some. Just this minute. So, you’re right on time.” Her enthusiasm was verging on manic, but she’d just been caught gawking and desperately needed to distract him from the heat she knew was now darkening her cheeks.
The word vomit continued as she led him past the duct tape-covered couch. “Did you sleep well? I mean, is the cabin okay? It’s getting colder now; I’m not sure how warm it’s going to be out there this winter. Maybe I could get you some extra blankets. Do you need extra blankets? I’m sure I have some upstairs. Maybe I should go—”
Before she could finish, strong arms spun her around and gripped her biceps. Ace was in her space. His head was dipped, and his mouth was just a breath away from her. How was she supposed to form coherent sentences now? And that smell. Sweet baby Jesus. He smelt like sandalwood and sunshine.
“Darlin’, you need to take a breath. What’s going on with you today? And what the hell happened to your hair?”
If her cheeks weren’t red before, they were definitely flaming now. Quickly scrambling out of his hold, she fumbled with her braid, clumsily untying it until a mass of messy brown hair hung over her shoulders.
“I was trying something new, that’s all. It was much harder than it looked online, if you must know. I’m sorry you’re so offended by it!”
Closing the distance between them, his large finger skimmed her chin until he’d tilted it upward. That was when she once again found herself staring into those deep blue pools. “Sugar, it’s not you, that’s all. I wasn’t tryin’ to be rude. You're finer than a frog’s hair split four ways. You don’t need nothing doing to that pretty little head of yours.”
What the hell does that mean?
It was bad enough she looked a mess. Now, she felt like one too. Taking a step back, she attempted a shaky smile. He’d rattled her. He was always rattling her. With his weird compliments and intense, longer-than-socially-acceptable eye contact. Great. Now her palms were sweating. She’d officially hit her humiliation limit for the day, and it wasn’t even 5:30 yet. Coffee. She needed coffee.
Turning her back on the big, beautiful man before her, she scurried over to the kitchen. Although she heard him follow behind her, she decided it was best for everyone if she avoided looking at him directly in the eyes for the foreseeable future. Who knew what else was going to come out of her mouth or how much redder she could get?
After pouring a mug of the good stuff for him, she expertly handed it over without meeting his gaze. She was doing so well. Until she wasn’t. Apparently, grazing his hand was just too much for her and her long-neglected hormones. Her hand instinctively jerked at the feel of his touch.
Perfect. He thinks I’m a freak. A jumpy, babbling, sweaty, red freak with bad hair. Is it time for the earth to swallow me whole yet?
She refused to meet his eyes and luckily, he didn’t call her on it. Instead, they both drank in silence. Awkward silence. This was not how she wanted today to go. It wasn’t as if she thought Ace would fall at her feet when he got a look at her goddess braid, but she was hoping for something. And whatever that frog thing was, it definitely wasn’t it. That was just him being his normal polite, if a little weird, self.
She was just about sick of polite. Ace was the embodiment of polite. He was all good manners, appropriate conversations, and good old-fashioned chivalry. But something was missing. He was holding something back. Granted, she hadn’t known him all that long, but she had a feeling this version of him hadn’t always been his default setting.
They’d met just a month ago at Local Deputy Brady Mitchell’s house. She’d been there to visit his wife, Alice, and stumbled across the reunion. Ace was an old friend who had served with Brady and was in need of a place to stay. Obviously lust-drunk at the time, Ivy offered up one of the empty ranch cabins at Moonrock. It wasn’t like she needed them anymore. She’d recently had to let her last ranch hand go. She was barely making enough money to feed herself, let alone anyone else.
In only a week of having Ace there, Ivy was smitten. Actually, if she were being honest with herself, she was smitten a month ago. In exchange for his stay, he’d instantly offered up his services, and despite her thorough protests, she was secretly happy t o have the help.
“What’s got you thinking so hard?” Breaking the silence, he reached out and covered her hand with his.
If she thought Ace’s earlier finger graze was too much, the hand covering definitely had it beat. Easily. Instead of a jerk, this time, her body chose violence. A second later, the white ceramic mug she had been clutching onto was shattered and chunky pieces of it were now surrounding her feet.
“Mother-effing sugar balls!”
Ace just laughed. He didn’t seem fazed at all. Or even slightly shocked. Maybe she just looked like the kind of woman who smashed mugs on the regular and he’d already mentally prepared for the possibility.
In true take charge, Ace fashion, he instructed her to “not move a muscle” and casually sauntered toward the kitchen sink cupboards in search of a dustpan.
Don’t stare at his ass. Don’t stare at his ass. Don’t stare at his ass.
Despite her optimistic chant, her eyes were, in fact, glued to his ass. And they stayed there even when he bent down to peer inside the lower cabinet. The way those Wranglers clung to his behind was practically obscene. And she loved it. So much so, she couldn’t seem to drag her eyes away.
Unfortunately, stealthy was not her middle name. At some point in between Ace bending over and him actually finding the dustpan, she’d found herself trapped in a lust-fuelled trance. Which was why she didn’t seem to notice him straighten and turn around. Not until her eyes and his crotch were formally introduced, that is.
Dear Lord.
Quickly darting her gaze back up to safer territory, she realized instantly that she’d been caught. The man was smirking at her.
Well done, Ivy. You should get some sort of award. Breaking the record for most embarrassing moments before the sun has even risen.
She watched in silence as he swept up the mess. She could no longer trust herself. It was going to be a long day.
***
It was safe to say she had not learned her lesson from earlier, because the best part of mucking out the stalls was definitely Ace bending over. She decided to justify it by reasoning that good things in her life right now were few and far between. So, she needed to take pleasure in the little things. Or the perfectly shaped things, wrapped in denim.
Dear Lord, it’s like it’s been carved out by the Gods themselves.
Was she shamelessly ogling Ace’s ass? Yes. Was it worth potentially being a defendant in a sexual harassment in the workplace lawsuit? Yes. It was.
“What are you doing?” Ace’s booming voice brought her back to reality.
Shit. Busted. Again.
“Uh, um, nothing. I just ... I just remembered I need to put in a new feed order today. I was trying to think of everything we need.” Lies.
Ace’s lips twitched. “Well, I’m glad my ass reminded you of that, sugar.”
Red. I’m bright red. I know it.
Averting her eyes, Ivy dipped her head and went back to the task at hand, ignoring Ace’s chuckles beside her.
She didn’t know what it was about Ace that turned her into this person. Who even was this person? She hardly even recognized herself. There was just something about him that made her want to impress him. But needless to say, it really wasn’t working.
Then there was the blushing. What was with all the blushing? Before he turned up, she couldn’t even remember when she’d last blushed. But now? Now, she looked like she was permanently sporting a face full of sunburn.
Fuck my life.
It was only when it came time to take the horses for a ride that she started to relax again. This was her favorite part of the day.
After saddling up the newest addition to her family, Justice, she rode up beside Ace, who was waiting for her on Blaze, then they set off across the pasture.
The sun was finally making itself known. She enjoyed every second of the spotted heat absorbing into her skin. With the new season upon them, the morning air was beginning to cool. It was only a matter of time before the mud softened and the rich greens burnt amber.
“You’re extra quiet today, sugar. Something on your mind?” Ace’s husky drawl sent a shiver down her spine. She loved it when he called her sugar.
There was something on her mind. In fact, it felt like there was always something on her mind lately. Niggling her. Worrying her. Keeping her up at night. Things at Moonrock had been rough for a while. And with everything falling onto her shoulders, it was starting to weigh her down.
Other than her only brother, Teddy, she was alone. Teddy liked to joke that he didn’t have the ranching gene. But, really, horse breeding just wasn’t his passion, not like it was for Ivy. And that was okay. He’d left school and gone straight into the Navy, and she couldn’t be prouder. Since retiring, he preferred the social aspect of working behind the bar at Mickey’s, the only bar in Bluestone.
As close as they were, she tried not to bother him with the issues the ranch was having. He wasn’t stupid though. He’d been injecting cash into the business for years. Insisting that since he didn’t contribute physically, it was only right that he helped out financially. And if it wasn’t for that money, Moonrock would have been closed long ago. One thing was for sure, though, her brother wouldn’t be able to bail her out forever. Something had to change. Soon.
“Just the usual, Ace, nothing for you to worry about.”
“The usual?”
She peeked over at him long enough to see his bushy brown eyebrow raised in her direction. “Yeah, the usual. My business to-do lists.”
“Anything I can help with?”
Seriously, this man was something else. Wasn’t he already doing enough? The fact she wasn’t even paying him for his labor was bad enough. They both knew the work he was doing was worth much more than free accommodation in a tiny shack. As if she’d ask him for anything else.
“No, Ace, if anything you’re doing way too much. I already told you the cabin is yours for as long as you want it ... You really don’t need to help me every day. There must be plenty of other things you’d rather be doing than mucking out stalls.” She glanced over her shoulder at him to make sure he heard and was met with a panty-dropping smile. Jesus.
“Believe it or not, there’s no place I’d rather be.” He ignored her very unladylike snort and continued. “Now ... you gonna tell me what’s really going on?”
Feeling extra stubborn, Ivy not-so-subtly brushed him off again. “Um ... no, I don’t think I will if it’s all the same.”
“Ivy,” he warned, his voice all rumbly, “seriously.”
“It’s no big deal, Ace. Really.”
“If it’s no big deal, then you shouldn’t mind telling me, sugar.”
“Why are you pushing this?”
“Why don’t you wanna tell me?
“You always answer a question with a question?” Ivy clipped back.
His smile widened. “Not always. You always try and deflect when you don’t want to answer a question?”
Damn. He had her there. Well, fine. If he wanted the truth, she’d give him the truth. Let the man feel sorry for her if that’s what he wanted. It wasn’t like things could get more awkward between them than they already were.
Why the hell not? Someone other than my punching pillow should hear it anyway.
“Fine, you want to know what’s up, I’ll tell you.” Ivy huffed haughtily. She tugged at Justice’s reigns and brought them to a stop and waited for Ace to follow suit.
When she turned to face him, she saw the concern furrowing his brow.
“It’s no secret Moonrock is failing. And as the lucky owner and sole employee ... I’ve got some tough decisions to make. Crappy ones. Like really, really crappy ones.” Her hand automatically went to Justice’s smooth, coffee-colored mane. Just the feel of him soothed her. Well, until she remembered Donoghue. “And I-I have a meeting this afternoon. An important one. And I really need it to go well. I can’t mess it up. Well, I’m going to try really hard to not to mess it up.”
Ace was now full-blown frowning. “What makes you think you’ll mess it up?”
“Well, for one, it’s with Mr. Donoghue, who by the way, is scary as hell. Think Voldemort meets Mr. Burns. And he’s kind of a big deal in the industry. Oh, and I have no idea what he wants. He used to be a client—a long time ago—but he only ever dealt with Pops. I’m really hoping he wants to breed some of his mares. To have him back as a client would be huge for Moonrock. As in, it could be the difference between me closing the ranch doors in a few months. I’m just nervous I guess. That’s all. I’m sure it will be fine. And if not, I’ll think of something else.”
