Then I’ll tell the twins. My parents’ yard is the size of a stamp.
One of the Christmas special ones?
Haha. Sorry to be bothering you. I wasn’t sure a message would be welcome.
I took a measuring breath. This conversation was all kinds of trouble, but it was exactly what I craved. I don’t want to fuel any more rumors of us.
I think they’re already soaked with gasoline.
Which was all my fault. How’s it been really?
Mostly good. It’s getting better. The first weeks are always awkward. My coworkers are taking off. I’d better go—we’re carpooling. Have a good weekend, Gentry!
I was Gentry to her again. I couldn’t deny I loved the starched way she said Mr. King, but it was also a reminder of the separation between us.
I reread our missive a hundred time before I forced myself back to work.
It was getting close to eight. I wrapped up some emails and glanced over at the door to Aiden’s office. The light was on underneath.
I went to the door and tapped on it as I walked in. Neither of us ever waited for a response. One day, I hoped to catch him in flagrante with his wife, not because I was a pervert, but because that’d mean they had something real. Aiden was scowling at his screen. The top button of his shirt was still done up tight and not one hair had moved the whole day. He was as ready for the day at eight thirty p.m. as he was at seven thirty a.m. And I’m sure he finished a punishing workout before he hit the office.
“Why aren’t you at home?” I asked.
He didn’t bother to look up. “Kate has a late-night meeting at the library.”
Doubt snaked through me. Both of them working late? Or was one lying? Since I was standing across from Aiden, that would make Kate, which was absurd.
“A late night at the library?”
My dubious tone got Aiden’s attention. “It’s game night for the teens and she stays around to help.”
I sat across from him. “Does she want kids?”
He rolled his eyes. “We’ve only been married five months, Dad.”
“Legitimate question.”
“She hasn’t mentioned a thing.”
“Maybe if you were home, she could.”
He pushed away from his computer with a huff. “I have a job to do, Dad. If I don’t do it then thousands will be out of work.”
Sounded familiar. It was the story I gave him while he was growing up.
Can we play ball, Dad?
No, son, I have a lot of work to do.
“You can do your job well and still have a life,” I said.
“Is that what you did?” he asked flatly.
This wasn’t going anywhere. It never did, and since he’d gotten married, it got hostile faster. I rose and headed toward the door. “Learn from my mistakes, Aiden. Don’t emulate them.”
I didn’t bother to shut the door. I left it open, hoping that’d force him to get out of his chair and that’d start the cascade process of heading home for the weekend.
I was getting my suit jacket on when he appeared in the doorway. “You know I only have this job because I’m your son. Anyone that made the mistake I did would be lucky to get the swing shift at a shit factory.”
Ah. The mystery that was my son was unraveling. He never talked about the incident from when he’d first started with King Oil. “It wasn’t a mistake. It was a decision that didn’t pan out the way you thought.”
“And a lot of people lost their jobs.”
“And they got unemployment and found new ones. Don’t destroy yourself over it.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, but he just shook his head and walked away. I counted the day that financial mistake was discovered as the second pinch point that changed him from the oldest child with a wealth of ambition and a witty sense of humor to a hard, driven man that left his emotions in the dust. The first pinch point was the night his mother died.
I needed a drink.
It was Friday. Rodrigo was working. He wouldn’t ask questions, but I could still talk to him. About nothing and everything without saying anything at all. He was the second best person to talk to. The person I really wanted to visit with was out with friends.
I left both my overcoat and suit coat in the pickup, draping them over the back seat. The tie had been ditched as soon as I’d gotten behind the wheel. It was still early spring and cool, especially at night, but the cold hardly penetrated my Oxford shirt.
My body burned hotter than a steam engine. Until I disentangled myself from the way Kendall messed me up, making me hard over stupid messages, then a coat was a nuisance.
I walked inside, the familiar scents flowing around me. The yeasty smell of beer saturated in fried bar food and peppered with the savory oregano odor of pizza. I went toward my normal spot at the far end of the bar, closest to the door, doing my usual sweep of the clientele.
Being a regular here was more out of convenience. The other regulars had been seeing me here for so long they ignored me, and the saloon-style bar didn’t necessarily attract the business crowd I often ran in which kept the speculation and gossip about me to a minimum. This was more like a place I’d find back home in King’s Creek, but way more private. The influx of guests staying for workshops and conferences helped keep the clientele fresh while being transient enough to maintain a nice level of anonymity.
There were indeed plenty of people. A conference must be in town. Normally, I’d meet a single woman close to my age as the rest of her group drifted off. We’d get to talking. Then I’d get invited up to her room. Most of the time, I left when we were done, before she got the wrong idea. Rarely, I stayed until morning. If I did, it was with the understanding that there’d be more sex, and maybe breakfast, but that would be the extent of it.
What a sad fucking routine.
No wonder Aiden hadn’t considered any impact at all on Kate over what he did. The poor girl didn’t know about the trust. I pondered my oldest son’s relationship status as I took my seat.
Nodding to Rodrigo, I settled, knowing he’d bring me my regular. One Grand Marnier 1880 that he stocked just for me. I used to hate the stuff. DB drank it and served me a glass whether I asked for it or not. Since he did all the talking—boasting—harrumphing—I had sipped out of pure boredom. Now it was my thing.
My gaze skipped over the crowd, landing on a table of familiar thirty-somethings. Didn’t I know them from work? One of the women shifted and I was able to see around the others.
Kendall.
As my gaze landed on her, she glanced up. Her brows lifted in surprise, and I didn’t miss the panicked look she gave the rest of the table. They either hadn’t seen me or didn’t care.
But it was unusual to see my employees here. It was why I preferred it.
I schooled my own shocked expression into a half smile and dipped my head. Rodrigo saved me by sliding my drink in front of me.
“Busy night,” he said before I even asked.
“Those are the best Fridays.”
“Especially when you’re the owner.” He grinned and hustled to the other side to grab an order.
I tried to concentrate on anything but Kendall. I’d only caught a glimpse, but I knew she wore a wrap-around dress that probably made her legs look fantastic. If she had on those knee-high boots again, I would need a few extra minutes in the shower. Her ass landing in my arms was the visual that never failed to push me over the edge. Saved on water.
Awareness crawled all over me. Was she looking at me or everyone else?
A shadow appeared at my side. I looked over, ready to greet Kendall, but a woman closer to my age slid onto the stool next to me. She smiled at me in a way that told me exactly what she wanted. “Is this seat taken?”
“No, ma’am.”
I focused on my drink. Rodrigo came over to take her order, giving me a bemused head shake when the woman wasn’t looking. I never had to troll the bar. The women came to me.
Except Kendall.
<
br /> “You look familiar,” she said.
I repressed my sigh. How rude would it be to leave my drink and go? I didn’t want to toss it back and then hop behind the wheel. It was one glass, but if I was pulled over, I’d smell like a distillery.
Giving her a tight smile, I said, “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Her grin widened and she swiveled toward me. “Well, let me change that. I’m—”
I was distracted from her introduction by a mass exodus of my employees. A couple of the women flicked their gazes toward me, rolled their lips together, and scurried out. The two guys nodded, their gazes darting away. If they were my kids, I’d think they were up to something.
I searched the table they’d been at. Where was Kendall? Had she left? Did she see me with this woman? I searched the bar for her.
“Is something wrong?” the woman asked.
“Looking for a friend.”
“Funny, I was trying to do the same,” she muttered and turned back to the bar.
There. A flash of honey-blond caught my eye. Kendall coming out of the hallway that led to the bathrooms and speeding toward her group—who had all left.
I watched as she stumbled to a stop, a frown on those pretty lips. I wanted to fire every one of them.
Ironic. This was why they had fraternization policies. All we had at King Oil was a don’t be stupid policy if you dated someone within the company. And a transfer policy if you dated someone in your chain of command, but we only enforced it if there were issues. I’d been staunchly against implementing a separate fraternization policy. Our offices and work sites were in small towns in rural America. It was highly possible to meet your other half at work.
I had just never expected I’d be looking at someone who not only made me think about other halves again, but tempted me to violate the don’t be stupid policy.
Chapter 15
Kendall
Those bastards. Damn them all. Every. Single. One.
It’d taken a moment to dawn on me what happened. But as I stared at my empty table, acutely aware of Gentry sitting next to some attractive woman who looked more like the ones he’d been pictured with in the media, I realized I’d been played.
Gentry had a regular spot. And they all knew it. Just like they thought I’d slept with him.
It wasn’t a coincidence that after he arrived, and after the woman sauntered toward him, they’d left me.
What if I hadn’t gone to the bathroom?
But I had, and I’d ridden here with Dina from accounting. Who was gone.
I did one more frantic search of the bar, hoping my group proved me wrong, that people weren’t as wicked as I assumed.
No luck.
But Gentry was witness to my humiliation. I could see enough out of the corner of my eye. He was watching the whole thing play out. And the woman was still next to him, her ass managing to look good even on a bar stool.
Okay. Game plan. I’d go over to the table and call for a ride. Maybe Brendell would be around. He might ask a lot of questions, since I hadn’t called him to save me since my prom date puked all over the inside of his Toyota Corolla.
I chose to spare my pride and call a cab.
No one else was paying attention to me. They didn’t know I’d been ditched.
I sat down and pulled up all my options to get a car to drive me away from this nightmare.
“Need a ride?”
My head jerked up almost as fast as a wave of lust crashed through my body. Gentry was standing over me. His hands in his pockets, his expression full of sympathy.
My stomach twisted, humiliation wringing out of it. He’d seen the whole thing.
“It seems I do.” I looked past him to the woman. She was sipping a drink that looked like a sunrise. “I’m calling for a ride.”
He tilted his head toward the door. “Come on. I’ll take you back to your car.”
He spoke softly, but his words carried over the din. I slumped my shoulders. “I don’t want to intrude.”
His brow furrowed. “On what?”
“Your night. You know.” I glanced toward the woman again. She was speaking to the bartender, but he was focused on Gentry, curiosity evident in his gaze.
“Know what?” His lips twisted like he was fighting a smile.
I was tempted to smile, but the situation was too pathetic. “I don’t want to cock block you.”
“I believe that’s your brother’s specialty.” I sputtered over my laugh and he grinned. “Come on. I came here to unwind, not sleep with anyone. I might’ve made small talk to keep from being rude, but that’s all.”
Right. His promise to his sons. A nice little topping to my mortification. I rose and put my coat on. “I’m parked at the office.”
His gaze swept over my coat. Was he remembering our nights bundled together? Because I did. The kiss especially kept me up at night in my tiny, loud apartment.
I followed him out. He swaggered through the crowd as if he didn’t see a single person. There was no side-stepping or excuse-mes. The crowd parted like he was the king of more than an oil company. He’d earned the crown in the logo.
What would that make me? I was tucked into my coat to hide from anyone else who’d seen me ditched. The jester? I’m sure my coworkers were having a nice laugh at my expense.
He held the door open for me, and I gladly let the wind slap me in the face. All my coworker’s small talk and inviting me to sit with them at the break room. It was fake. I was transported back to high school. To when that prom date had only asked me out because he’d heard I was a virgin. And when it was clear I wasn’t putting out, he’d proceeded to drink himself into a stupor. Times like that, Brendall was there for me without question, the same when he’d talked to me for an hour after I caught Darren cheating and then helped me find a lawyer.
That was why I put family first. I just hated the reminder that people sucked
“I’m sorry,” Gentry said quietly as he led me toward his ride. I guessed it was the pickup at the end of the lot that looked like it could be out in a muddy field right about now, towing a tractor out of the muck. Or whatever ranchers did with pickups.
“It’s not your fault. I should’ve known it was too good to be true. I was never the pinnacle of the social crowd. So, you come here often?” It was my lame attempt at humor, but mostly I wanted to redirect the conversation.
“I guess my secret’s out.” He opened the door for me and a waft of his scent crowded around me. Soap and a dash of sandalwood cologne. I could crawl in the back seat and go to sleep. It’d be even better if he got in there behind me. But I was passed over once already tonight, I didn’t need for it to happen again.
I climbed in and sunk as far in the seat as possible. I looked so forward to tonight. To not going home right away to stare at four walls. To not fielding calls from Jen about her essay on The Scarlett Letter that’s due on Monday. To not wondering if Gentry went back to his bar and picked up company.
That last part I would’ve done regardless.
“What’s up for your weekend?” he asked as he pulled out of the lot.
“I was going to help my sister with an essay. I finally agreed to read it over once she finished it.”
“Learned the hard way?”
“That she’d try to get me to write it? Yes.” We shared a grin that those who’d raised like-minded teenagers could share.
This is what I missed. It wasn’t how attracted I was to him, but how he got me. Parents who’d raised teens often didn’t take me seriously when we talked about kids. Gentry did. “How about you?”
“Work. Are you surprised?”
I angled myself toward him as street lights flashed through the windows. “Don’t you ever go home?”
He slid his gaze toward me, then back on the road. “I work all weekend and hope that Dawson calls and needs help. Helping on the ranch is all the time off I need.”
“Why don’t you offer?”
“It’s his busi
ness.”
He was a good dad. I know he blamed himself for so many things, but he had four independent sons who were all successful in their own right.
I should stare back out the window, but I wanted to keep looking at him and his strong profile, the way the lights flashed over his hair and face, making the silver flecks at his temples flicker. At the moment, I couldn’t hate my coworkers for ditching me.
He pulled into the parking lot of King Oil. I always parked toward the end of the lot. There was my little gray car. All by itself. He parked next to it.
Gentry put the pickup in park. “Do you want to start it and let it warm up?”
It was time to go. In my cold car. To my empty apartment. There was no reason to delay the inevitable. “No, but thanks for the offer.” I smiled, trying to keep the sadness from entering my eyes. Why couldn’t we be together again? Why was being with him a bad idea?
Right. Because of everyone else.
“And thanks for the ride.” With that, I climbed out of his pickup. After being in his vehicle with its heated seats, touch display, voice commands, and epic leg room, my car was going to make the night even more pathetic.
By the time I got around the box of the pickup, a door shut.
“Kendall.” Gentry had gotten out.
His stricken expression prompted me to cover the ground between me and him. I looked up and into his dark eyes. My breath puffed out and exhaust swirled around us. “Yes?”
“I…I don’t want this to be the end. Of us.” He closed his mouth, his gaze traveling down to my boots, the same ones I’d been wearing the day we met. “And when you wear those boots… Damn.” He bent and my dreams unfolded before my eyes. He was going to kiss me.
No, he was going to stop, remind me why this was a bad idea as if I didn’t know and then I’d go home alone.
But he didn’t. He kissed me.
Neither of us took it slow. I wanted to pick up exactly where we’d left off that day in Douglas. He deepened the kiss, his tongue plundering my mouth, tasting of fruity alcohol. I don’t know what he had been drinking, but he made it taste exquisite.
King's Crown (Oil Kings Book 1) Page 11
