Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)(10)

“Stop?” Hannah asked, alarmed. “Stop what? Stop you from doing this?”

“No. I need to stop. All of this. I need to stop being Ava Cooper. I need to know if Ava Dumond is capable of taking care of herself, because it’s obvious Ava Cooper can’t.”

Hannah was dead silent. Then she smiled. “I know I should be worried about job security with your sudden identity crisis, but I’m not.”

“Good. So you’re not going to try and talk me out of this?”

“No. Besides, I know you’ll be back by the first week in August.” Hannah’s eyes narrowed. “You are scheduled to start filming the new Lynch movie in Mexico that week. And given that the contracts were signed before this shit went down with the movie studio and Jake, you absolutely cannot f*ck that up, Ava.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Hannah pressed. “You know there’s no warning when the casting director calls you in for a reading, so you’ll need to be someplace where you can hop a plane at a moment’s notice.”

“Relax. I doubt I’ll be gone that long. I just need a break.” She watched the frown lines deepen on Hanna’s forehead. “Are you rethinking that job security comment?”

“No. Since getting far away from here is your idea, I believe it’s something you need to do. I just want you to be careful.”

Ava hugged her. “I will. Thank you. You are the best, Han.”

“You’re welcome. Now will you at least let me help you pack and plan?”

She shook her head. “I need to do it all on my own. Like regular people do.”

“With the exception of flying commercial like regular people do,” Hannah inserted.
“Extenuating circumstances.” Ava allowed a sheepish look. “Ah, can you tell me where I keep my suitcases?”

“Under the bed in the guest bedroom. I’ll grab them.”

As Ava flipped through her closet, she was torn. What to bring for clothes? Comfy. Casual. Weather appropriate. Did she own anything fitting that description?
Hannah set the luggage on the floor by the closet door. Ava’s gaze strayed to the large duffel bag she’d never used. If she had to haul her belongings everywhere by herself, she’d need a manageable bag. She grabbed the gray duffel. “I’m taking this one.”

“Ava. You can’t even get your shoes in that.”

“Ava Cooper can’t get her shoes in that. Ava Dumond travels light.”

“I need a glass of wine,” Hannah said wearily.
“Help yourself.” As Hannah left the room, Ava yelled, “Oh, on your way back from the kitchen, will you grab the box of condoms from the main bathroom?”

Hannah poked her head back in. “You don’t care about packing shoes, but you’re packing condoms?”

“Yep. I’m gonna find me a hot man and offer him unlimited, anything-goes sex—no strings, no regrets, just lots of getting naked and getting loose.”

“So you’re setting out to prove Ava Dumond is a sleazy ho-bag?”

“If that’s what it takes to get my sexual confidence back where men are concerned? Then yes.”

“Forget a glass of wine, I’m bringing back the whole damn bottle.”

Ava laughed. Let her Wild West adventure begin.
Chapter Three

Chase could barely keep his eyes open. Disoriented, he slowed his truck to a crawl on the gravel road, braking at the cattle guard that denoted the turnoff to Kane’s place.
He parked by the deck and stumbled out of his truck, taking a moment to stretch his legs and adjust the crick in his neck. But anticipation of falling face-first into a puffy mattress and sleeping a solid twelve hours put a spring in his step.