“Yeah, Grams and DB were pretty clear about their expectations for me. Beck talked about starting his own company even in high school. Xander obviously wasn’t going to be an office jockey. And Dawson loves ranching, so we all knew he’d be running the cow-calf operation as soon as he was able.”
“And you’re the oldest,” she finished. “But you wouldn’t have chosen the company?”
“I didn’t have to. It chose me,” he said with zero emotion.
I tried a different tactic. “If you could’ve gone to school for anything, what would it have been?”
“I never thought about it, since it never mattered.”
I switched my gaze to stare out the windshield. The snowy landscape on each side of the interstate was sparse and stretched as far as the eye could see. Brown grass stuck out in tufts, almost as plentiful as the snow.
Sadness filled my heart. Randall and Mom had worked to give my brothers and me the option of college if we wanted it. They couldn’t have afforded to pay the full amount, but they’d put away as much as they could. My brothers had each chosen technical programs and I’d gone to a university. After that, I’d chiseled away at my student loans until I was married. Then Aiden had taken care of the entire amount with one hammer blow.
I hadn’t taken it for granted that I could continue my education after high school graduation. What I had taken for granted, and only realized now, was that I’d been able to choose whatever program I wanted. I’d envisioned myself as a kind librarian with an ever-ready smile, like the ones that had helped and nurtured me while growing up.
Aiden hadn’t chosen his career. He might hate his job and none of us would know. That…sucked. He made an obscene wage, but it had been at the cost of the rest of his life. He gave King Oil his everything, but it gave him little in return.
Aiden
* * *
I clicked through finance reports from our sites in North Dakota. A few sites around Williston were still moving oil, but several were shut down until the price of a barrel rose. It wasn’t ideal, but that was the current climate.
It was early Christmas Eve and Kate was the only one sleeping. Bristol and Dawson had woken shortly after me and gone out to do chores. I was finishing work so I didn’t have to be torn tonight for the meal.
Our arrival hadn’t been as awkward as I’d anticipated. Dawson and Bristol had greeted Kate like normal and then they’d sat us down and showed us their growing plans for the sobriety ranch Cartwright Cattle would soon become. Bristol wanted it done right, so she and Dawson were taking their time, adding ideas and striking thoughts throughout the winter. Next month, they’d start researching companies to make Bristol’s dream into a reality.
Upstairs, the bedroom door opened and a few seconds later another door closed. Kate was in the bathroom. My gaze drifted up the stairs and followed the railing that divided the bedroom area from the living room and kitchen space.
I clicked to another report. Tried to concentrate. My gaze rose to the second level. She’d be naked by now.
The entirety of our relationship, we’d never had sex in this house. I hadn’t wanted to make Kate feel uncomfortable at the thought of fucking under Dawson’s roof. Or having sex while one or two of my brothers, and maybe even Dad, slept nearby.
I sucked in a breath and adjusted my thickening dick. Sitting in jeans with an erection didn’t make it easier to forget about my naked wife. I forced my eyes back to the report. Which site was this again?
Dawson and Bristol were still outside. If they came in and heard us, it’d serve them right. Dawson might rethink the robot bullshit. I flipped the lid shut on my laptop and bounded up the stairs.
The shower was running. I gripped the doorknob but it didn’t turn. Damn. That was what growing up with one bathroom did to a girl.
I ran down to the office, found a paper clip, and straightened it as I sprinted up the stairs. It took two seconds to pop the lock and I was inside. The double shower curtain hid my nude wife.
Kate’s soft humming stopped. “Hello?”
“It’s me.” I locked the door behind me.
“Oh. I’m almost done.”
“I’m not,” I growled as I ripped my sweater over my head. I’d picked the beige cowl-neck one that Kate liked, but she’d have to wait to see me in it.
She peeked out the door of the shower, her gaze landing on the hard-on I’d just freed from my pants. I kicked out of them, took my socks off, and stalked across the bathroom.
Her eyes went wide.
I answered her unspoken concern. “They’re still out doing chores.”
She flicked her gaze behind me like she was checking it was just us, then she pulled back the shower curtain wider to let me in.
I crowded her against the wall and the warm water spray hit my shoulder. I didn’t want her anxious or mortified at the thought of getting busted, so I would make this fast.
Soap suds drifted down her shoulders onto her breasts. I flicked the bubbles away. “You missed a spot.”
She puffed her chest out and her nipples grazed my skin. “Want to help me finish?”
I gave her a slow grin as I kneeled. She planted her hands on the wall as I hooked a leg over my shoulder.
It didn’t take long with me tonguing her clit to get her wet and more than ready. She fought to keep her whimpers and moans quiet, but I could feel them vibrate through her ripe body.
I rose, sliding my hands up her slippery body. Stealing an extra second, I got my footing just right so we didn’t slide around like we were ice dancing. I gripped her hips and she let out a startled gasp as I lifted her. She automatically wrapped her legs around my waist and positioned her wet center over my straining erection.
I thrust up, and as soon as I pushed in, she flexed and lowered herself.
My groan was not quiet. I couldn’t get enough of my wife. We didn’t have sex every time we got together, but we’d managed it a few times since that first night. The way her body gripped mine and made my eyes cross, I’d think we hadn’t had sex for a year or two.
“You feel so fucking good. This isn’t going to take long.” I crushed my mouth over hers and pressed her back against the wall. I licked into her as I thrust, steadily increasing my pace.
She was riding me the best she could while plastered against a shower wall. I tried to loosen my hold on her legs to wedge a hand between us, but my feet started slipping.
The tight fist of her body would push me over far sooner than her, and I wasn’t finishing before her, not even for a quickie. I broke our kiss. “Touch yourself.”
Her gaze jerked up to mine, her pupils dilated. I pumped in and out, waiting for her to make her decision. I’d never asked before and she’d never done it.
Timidly, she broke her hold around my shoulders and slipped her hand between our bodies.
Goddamn, that was hot. Another groan that wasn’t quiet.
Her knuckles brushed against me as I thrust. I could feel the tiny circles she was making, the friction growing the heat between us.
Her moans were coming faster, growing louder. I captured her mouth, but my grunts weren’t muted like I’d hoped. The force of my pumps increased along with the motion of her hips. Our teeth bumped and she giggled, but then gasped as the tip of my cock grazed the perfect spot inside of her.
I tried to shush her but it came out more a chuckle. We tried to kiss again, but she was so close. Her body tightened, the vise of her legs biting into my sides.
She crested, her orgasm rippling over my most sensitive skin, and as she cleared the top, she opened her mouth to cry out, then jerked like she’d just remembered we were trying—and failing—to be quiet. Her head thunked the wall, but her body was still spasming in climax. Another giggle cut through a moan. Then she tried to suppress the moan and laughed again.
I grinned, then my own orgasm hit. I clenched my teeth, but damn, blistering ecstasy mixed with my wife’s laughter spurred my own.
“Shh,” she admonish
ed, her smile wide.
“You shush. You were louder.” I chuckled and gasped as humor-laced aftershocks cascaded through my body.
“Oh my gosh. Good thing we tried this when they were gone,” she whispered.
I helped her unhook her legs. Before I stepped out, I touched her lips in a firm kiss. “I’ll let you finish.”
I snagged a towel as I got out and replaced it with a new one for her. I dried off and redressed. My hair routine the days I worked from home was becoming a halfhearted finger comb.
By the time I got downstairs, Dawson was rummaging through the fridge. Kate was going to die inside when I told her Dawson had returned at some point during our sex session. He glanced at me, lingered on my wet hair, quirked a brow, then lifted his gaze to the bathroom. As if on cue, the shower clicked off.
He shook his head. “And to think Bristol put me off last night because you two were here and she was afraid you’d know we were doing it.”
“She afraid you’re too noisy?”
He turned his attention back to the contents of the fridge and scratched the side of his head with his middle finger. I chuckled and practically bounced to the table.
He leaned back out of the fridge and pondered me the entire way.
I readied my computer but couldn’t ignore him. “You’re wasting energy.”
He let the doors swing shut but didn’t take his gaze off me.
My brother wasn’t going to ruin my morning, yet his attention wasn’t negative. It was… I couldn’t identify it. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s just nice seeing you like this.”
“It’s nice to feel like this.” The confession came easily.
He left it at that and opened the french doors of the fridge again. “Damn.” He disappeared behind the panels like he was going to climb inside. “How could I run out of butter? It’s a travesty.”
“I’ll run and get some.”
“Nah. I can get it.”
“Dawson, you’re doing all the cooking. I can run to town.” I’d see if Kate wanted to come. “I just need to warm up the pickup.”
I could start my pickup with my phone. I hit the button and frowned when I got a failed message. I tried again. Same thing.
“Something wrong?” Dawson drifted over, his hands stuffed in his jeans. His hair stuck up in hunks. He must use the same finger-comb method I did, only I hadn’t worn a stocking hat all morning.
“The pickup’s not starting.”
We both got in our boots and coats and went outside. I tried to start the pickup. Nothing. “Battery’s dead. The farm store open?”
Dawson ducked his head. “Until noon, I think.”
“Can I borrow your ride?”
He didn’t say yes, but a slow grin spread across his face and his eyes sparkled even though clouds packed the sky. I narrowed my eyes and his smile grew.
“The thing is, Aiden, I might need my pickup.”
Like hell. He could use Bristol’s. She hadn’t upgraded her old beater, but it purred like a two-ton kitten after a few days at the shop.
“When Beck and Xander come to town and need wheels, they use the other pickup.”
The only other pickup was… “You asshole.”
Chapter 15
Kate
* * *
My winter boots hit the snow-packed parking lot and I let go of the door and the seat. This old pickup of Beck’s was something. I hadn’t ever ridden in it before, but I’d seen the others drive it around. A ride like this would’ve been right up my brothers’ alley when they were teens. It had been easy to picture each King boy driving around in this as a teen, except for Aiden. Until now.
He wore his nice sweater and his good jeans with his North Face coat, but he had on cowboy boots and handled the big pickup like it was nothing.
My gaze lifted to the KC lights lining the top. Hadn’t those gone out of style years ago? Way before my husband and his brothers’ time.
A wall of heat closed in behind me. I’d almost needed my husband’s help getting into the monster-truck wannabe.
“That was a climb.” It wasn’t much larger than a big farm pickup, but I wasn’t over six feet tall like Aiden. I’d needed three points of contact to get in and out.
“It’s something,” he said grimly, but I didn’t miss the humor underlying those words.
If I wasn’t mistaken, Aiden didn’t mind driving this. He probably wanted to hit the pastures like his brothers had. I’d heard them talk about whipping through the mud with it. How would it do in the snow?
He gripped my hand and led me inside the small grocery store that was one block off Main Street. Inside, we made sure to grab the butter first so we didn’t buy fifty bucks’ worth of groceries and forget what we’d come here for. Christmas music poured through the overhead speakers and the end of every aisle offered something green and red, whether it was chocolates or stocking stuffers.
Aiden and I had decided not to exchange presents this year. Still, he’d gotten me those books and all the laughs that had come with unpacking them.
I passed the muffins and sheer curiosity had me guessing the flavors. My attention was jerked away when a woman said my husband’s name.
He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, Poppy.”
I glanced over and the good day I was having took a downturn. I recognized the woman. She was the same one that had dominated Aiden’s attention with inane chatter about high school and compliments about his job during Beck and Eva’s engagement party. I’d sat on the other side of Aiden like one of those fish that suction to a bigger fish and just kind of watch the world go by while the predator fish ignores it.
“You’re in town for Christmas?” Her grin could be on a toothpaste ad. I had worked hard at reining in my jealousy. I might not say “fuck them” like Mom, but I reminded myself I wasn’t better or worse than someone like Poppy.
It was the lack of respect. Ultimately, how my husband treated me was between us. But Poppy didn’t respect me. Years later, she pretended I didn’t exist again.
Poppy didn’t wait for him to answer. “Ohmigosh, it’s so good to see you again. I was thinking about you the other day. Remember when it used to be Drive Your Tractor to School Day and you and your brothers all brought a different tractor? It was hilarious, but you guys were always so funny. I was just talking to the old wrestling coach the other day and your name came up.”
Aiden pulled me close to him.
Did I ditch Aiden and go pay for our things? I couldn’t tolerate Poppy any longer. Aiden wasn’t ignoring me, but I didn’t have to withstand these situations. The kind that wouldn’t be helped by a snarky comment, or being a straight-up bitch. I’d look bad and I’d feel bad.
She took a step closer. “I think it’s so—”
“Sorry, Poppy.” Aiden clung to me. I blinked at him. Did I have the same startled expression as Poppy? “Kate and I were just grabbing something for Dawson and we have another errand to do before stores close. I hate to take you away from your family.” His smile was one I’d seen him use a million times when talking to non-friends or family. Superficial and meant to placate. “I know how much I treasure getting alone time with mine. These trips to King’s Creek are pretty special to me and Kate. You’ve met my wife, right? Poppy, this is Kate.”
Poppy’s gaze flicked to me, her lips turned down. “I don’t think so.”
He was brushing her off? And with such ease, like he’d done it a million times before. Had he been practicing? Or had he said what he’d been dying to tell others for so long when they dominated his time? Had all he needed was permission not to be “on” as the CFO twenty-four seven?
I adopted the same grin as Aiden. “I think we met at Beck’s engagement party.”
Her brow crinkled like she was struggling to, one, remember me and, two, recall that Aiden was married.
Aiden’s brow furrowed in a way that was similar to his smile. Mild. Fake. “Were you there?” He shook his head and chuckl
ed ruefully. “Sorry. I only remember being swamped with work and wishing I could just be alone with my wife.”
Poppy blinked several times. She hadn’t been the only one to latch on to Aiden that night, but she’d been the most persistent. I didn’t like insulting people, but in this case, I’d forgive it. If Poppy hadn’t been acting like she would steal him out from under me, then she’d only be mildly confused at his statement.
Aiden tipped his head, nothing but a pleasant gleam in his eye. “Merry Christmas, Poppy.” He towed me away toward the checkout line.
The older cashier beamed at our approach. She chatted with Aiden about Dawson and Bristol’s wedding and she’d heard it was nice. Unlike Poppy, she didn’t demand all his attention, and she spoke to me as much as him.
We finished up. Aiden lifted the bag and wrapped his hand around mine until we reached the pickup. He opened the door and helped me inside. Once he swung into the driver’s seat like it wasn’t five feet off the ground, I said, “Thank you.”
He leaned closer to me and dropped his voice. “I bet she doesn’t give a damn about wind energy either.”
“Not one bit.” I grinned as he fired up the engine. The loud rumbling echoed across the parking lot. All the pickup needed to do was backfire and we’d tick all the redneck boxes. “Did you have any fallout from brushing Hailey off?”
His jaw ticked and he took a moment to reply. “Her father stepped up his company’s attacks against King Oil to make themselves look better.”
And he hadn’t wanted to tell me. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I talked to Dad about why I think it’s gotten worse. We met with our PR team. They made sure a lot of our work with wind and solar development is more readily available on our websites, with factoids released regularly on all social media channels.”
“Nice passive counterattack.”
He slid a sly gaze toward me as he turned onto the highway out of town. “We’re also concentrating our factoids on our support of developing new wind technologies that are more efficient and less damaging to the environment than the big wind turbines.”
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