“I’m not married yet,” I said tightly. I liked being with Bristol. She was opening up to me and I wanted more. The trust didn’t need to fuck it up.
“So how are you going to phrase it?” Aiden kept his voice low. “ ‘Hey, do you mind getting married before July so I can get a lot of money and you don’t get any? But on the plus side, if you stick with me for a year, then you’ll get half?’ ”
Bristol would walk away from me and pretend I didn’t exist, that I never had. She had let me help her because she’d had no other option. I liked to think she was still with me because she felt the connection between us and it was too valuable not to explore. She might be willing to forgive the past, but her pride wouldn’t forgive what my family had continued to do to hers. She lived in poverty. If it hadn’t been for Daisy, that poverty would’ve cost her her life.
“And if you don’t get married by your birthday,” Aiden continued as if I couldn’t see the rock and the hard place I was stuck in, “then you get to ask her to keep dating you after she’s richer than shit. After you explain that even a hundred million dollars wasn’t enough to make the prospect of marrying her palatable.”
All the scenarios sucked. Bristol and I had just started dating and Aiden was lobbing marriage scenarios at me—all of which ended with me losing Bristol—and ruining a perfectly good night.
“I dunno,” I said, knowing I should shut my mouth. I’d been around Bristol and learned that a laugh and a smile weren’t always necessary in conversation. “Want to tell me how your talk with Kate will go when you tell her you married her for the trust money?”
His jaw ground down so hard he could’ve turned all the rock on his land to dust. “Why I married Kate is no one’s business, and we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you and that woman in there. It’s your turn to figure out what you’re going to do about the trust, and like me, someone else’s feelings are involved.”
Like me. He hadn’t said “like the rest of us.” Beck had told Eva the terms and recruited her to help him get the money. Then they’d fallen in love. Xander had agreed to a sudden Vegas wedding and used the trust to convince Savvy to stay married afterward. But Kate and Bristol were blissfully ignorant, and if the terms got out, they’d both be hurt.
I’d ignored the subject for a month and a half. My birthday was in a little over two months and I didn’t want the money. I hadn’t cared much for it before, and then I’d seen how Bristol lived. How she’d loved her father despite the cards he’d been dealt and how he’d played them.
Yet I couldn’t just turn it over to Bristol and expect to be her hero. Learning the details would hurt her and leave her with questions about why the woman she’d adored like her own mama would do something like this to her.
Chapter 7
Bristol
My body ached in the best way. I’d worked all day. If I kept this up, I’d need a replacement walking boot.
I sat on the porch steps in front of Dawson’s house, a bucket of water next to me, and scrubbed the boot clean. I was covered in dust and grit. Bucket was back in my pasture, but he’d been whinnying all day, missing his friends. As if I didn’t feel guilty enough when it came to that horse. I was heading inside to soak my aching leg. If I hadn’t canceled the physical therapy appointments the clinic had made, I was sure I’d be told that I’d overdone it today.
I’d overdo it again tomorrow too. Because I had to.
Dawson’s truck had been parked by my barn off and on throughout the day, but we’d crossed paths. I had split my time between working in the shop or roaming my land and making a to-do list about what I could get done this summer or save for next. There were some fence sections I could reinforce. I’d checked on the cabin. And being in my pickup had given me an excuse to swing by Dawson’s when I’d had to use the bathroom.
I set one boot aside and cleaned the other one. Tucker rumbled from the pasture down the drive in the big John Deere. They’d been using the tractor to do chores at my place. He parked it by the barn and swung out in a move all the single women in town would’ve loved to witness. His cowboy hat was pulled low and he walked like he’d been on a horse for the last twenty years, which was probably the truth.
“I think that’s all for today, Bristol. You need anything else?” I’d talked more to Tucker today than I ever had. He was in his thirties and had a more aw shucks appeal than the King brothers.
“No, that’s more than enough. After we work cattle, you won’t have to worry about me anymore.”
I’d sucked down enough of my ego for the cows and calves I raised. I couldn’t wait to be on my own again.
My heart sagged like I’d hung a sandbag off it. So maybe I’d miss the company. And the help.
I’d really miss the help. But I wouldn’t miss not being able to afford it.
Thanks to Tucker and Kiernan’s TLC, my cows were fat and the calves were thriving. If I could keep it going, sales this fall would be the best I’d ever seen. I’d love to reinvest the profits, but I’d have to reimburse the guys for all they’d done.
“Ain’t no worry,” Tucker said. “It’s not much extra work with the right equipment.”
And there was the rub. I’d be offended, but he’d just stated a fact. His tone didn’t make it sound like I was at fault for what Pop had left me. “I’ll get there.”
“I know you will.”
I wasn’t sure what “there” would look like yet. Today was the first day I’d comprehended that I could do anything with Cartwright Cattle. My means were meager, but my ambition wasn’t. Could I build my cow-calf operation to the point where I could hire help?
Would I be picky about the people I hired, or would I try to find someone who needed the work mentally as much as they did economically, like Pop?
I’d be smarter about it.
Right. Time to rein in my fantasies. I should arrange a real roof over my head first.
Tucker tipped his hat and shot me a knowing look. “You’ll get there faster if you don’t kick us out as soon as the cattle are moved.”
Before I could tell him that I couldn’t afford his help—and I wasn’t going to take his charity if I could keep the cattle healthy by myself—he climbed into his pickup and fired up the engine. He gave me a wave as he rolled away.
I wiped off my boot and slid it on. My leg both welcomed and hated the intrusion. I tossed the water on the grass and put the bucket by the door. Other than to get a nice bath, I wouldn’t delay any longer. It was my personal bargaining chip. I’d take a bath, then go to the RV. In the morning, I’d clean the entire trailer so I wouldn’t dread using the bathroom. Maybe I could clean it well enough that I wouldn’t have to live at the cabin all summer. But I wasn’t going to worry about it tonight. If that was possible.
I went inside. Dawson’s place was quiet. I would miss this quiet. My RV didn’t block a single moo, and the wind made everything creak until I fell asleep afraid I’d wake up in another county. Did Dawson want his place back to himself? Would he ask me to stay longer? The invitation had been extended but we hadn’t discussed it.
We hadn’t had sex yet either.
I thought he’d want to go beyond spooning after our date in Billings. But he’d been quieter than normal all the way home. Had Aiden said something to scare him off? I’d never had much to do with the oldest King brother. Growing up, he’d been even more untouchable than his brothers as far as I was concerned. He still acted as lofty, but like he functioned on his own plane, one that no one else could reach. Not even his wife.
Kate had chattered the entire time she’d taken me through their gigantic house. The pictures were beautiful. All local artists, all Montana scenery. I’d managed to hold back my heartache when she’d stopped in front of Sarah’s framed photos. The first King matriarch had used nothing but the intrinsic beauty of the land and natural lighting. And her pictures included my land. She’d never separated the two.
Once, she’d even told me that our families weren’
t meant to be separated and that I’d always be welcome in her home. I had believed her.
Then I’d been hurt for years because I thought she’d lied.
I believed her again. But being welcomed on King land was different than living there. Was that the divide Dawson had a hard time spanning?
I needed to move back home. I didn’t mind moving slow, but it was starting to feel like I was the only one who knew the terms.
I took my bath, groaning as I sank into the warm water, bubbles covering my chest and giving me teeny-tiny massages as they burst. The whole time I was in there, I searched my phone for the type of physical therapy exercises I should be doing. Whenever I found one, I took a screen shot. I couldn’t afford PT, but I also couldn’t afford to hobble around and possibly hurt myself again. I kept thinking I heard doors opening or footsteps, but the house remained quiet.
It stayed that way as I dressed and loaded my clothing into the grocery bags I’d packed them in. I stopped in the kitchen and made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I’d have to get groceries for the RV tomorrow. After I threw out everything in my little dorm fridge and wiped it out.
I took a bite of my sandwich and went out to the pickup. The bath had helped ease the ache in my leg. My sandwich was gone before I reached home. Dawson’s pickup was no longer by the barn.
I looked at the rust-stained trailer. Then at the barn that needed a new paint job twenty years ago. The shop with the door that’d been stuck open for five years and the fences that had been cobbled together out of scraps. Some posts were wood, some were metal. Some were round, some square, and some probably stolen from someone’s garden in the middle of the night.
Pop wasn’t a thief unless he took something that wasn’t worth pursuing.
Daisy romped into the RV, happier than I was about being back but not as excited as she was when she darted into Dawson’s place.
“Home sweet home.” The words died in the silence. It wasn’t like I’d meant them.
I put my stuff away and started cleaning. The place was dusty and I changed my bedding, grunting to get between the full mattress and wall of drawers on each side without wrenching my leg.
There. Done.
I looked out the window toward the trailer house. Could I make it all night without using the bathroom?
Probably. But I’d forgotten to bring a water jug.
Damn.
I sighed and flopped onto my back. The sun had set. My phone stayed silent.
Had Dawson been that content to get rid of me? Had I misread everything between us? It wasn’t like I had any experience in relationships that didn’t revolve around sex. As long as I was putting out and the guy wasn’t an abusive asshole, the relationship was fine.
The wood-paneled ceiling wasn’t going to answer me. I changed into a nightshirt that I’d shamelessly stolen from Dawson.
I wasn’t that far removed from Pop.
As I was pulling back the covers, a knock startled me. Daisy popped her head up.
“Way to be on guard.”
“Bristol!” Dawson called. “Open up.”
My heart flipped and I didn’t realize I was grinning until I reached the door. A guy yelling outside my door should hit all the wrong buttons, but Dawson’s voice was a balm to my healing nerves. I whipped it open.
He entered, stooping to keep from hitting his head on the frame. “What the hell are you doing?” His scowl was somehow sexy as hell. A lock of damp hair fell over his forehead and the scent of fresh soap surrounded him.
“I was going to bed.” I put a hand on my hip, which only hitched his T-shirt higher and drew his attention to my bare legs. My healing leg was half bent and I hoped it appeared sexy and not withered, so much smaller than my left leg.
“Without saying good night to me?” he growled and crowded me backward toward the bedroom. The mattress hit the backs of my legs and I dropped.
He closed the pocket door.
My tiny bedroom became minuscule with the tall cowboy towering over me.
“You hadn’t gotten back by the time I left. I didn’t know if you wanted me to wait.”
He yanked his shirt over his head. “I didn’t want you to go.”
I loved hearing those words. But how could I stay? How could I live off Dawson when I was able-bodied enough to take care of myself? How could I go from one man with all the authority to another within a span of months?
But I stuck with, “I didn’t want to go.” The ripples of his abs made my mouth water. Bronzed skin. His forearms and biceps were more tanned than his torso. I never gave farmer tans a second thought, but on Dawson, it worked.
He flicked open the button of his jeans. As much as I wanted this to keep going and advance beyond spooning, my logical brain wouldn’t shut up.
“There’s no convenient bathroom.” He’d have to clean up when we were done, and if I couldn’t afford physical therapy, I definitely couldn’t afford a walk-in visit for a bladder infection either. I’d have to wander across the yard to use the bathroom too. As much as I wanted to ride Dawson like he was a prized horse, he had to know what he was getting into with me.
“The trailer’s bathroom is clean.” He stepped out of his boots.
“What?” I dragged my gaze from the V above his waistband to his eyes.
“I cleaned the trailer all day. Hauled garbage out. Scrubbed. Any belongings are packed into garbage bags with fabric softener sheets. I put them into the shop to air out so you can go through them later.”
The fabric softener sheets were supposed to keep mice away. I’d squirreled them all over the trailer and RV. “How did you—I didn’t see you at all today.”
“I told Tucker to tell you what I was doing if you asked.” His lopsided grin was adorable and drop-dead sexy when he reached into his pocket and withdrew a string of three condoms. He tossed them onto the shelf my drawers made along the wall, then shoved his pants down.
“You cleaned the trailer? All of it?”
“Most of it. Febreze has been sprayed over all the cushions and carpet and I added a plug-in air freshener, so you should be able to use the bathroom without getting nauseous.”
I sat up, trying—and failing—to keep my gaze off his proud erection. He was a large man. “Dawson. Why?”
He stepped out of his pants. “Because I knew you’d insist on coming back here once you could move around freely. And I knew how stressful facing the trailer was for you.”
It must have been a filthy job. Yet I couldn’t deny the surge of relief inside of me at the thought of using the bathroom in a trailer that wasn’t festering and smelly. “That was sweet. Really, really sweet.” My throat tightened. No one else had ever done that much work for me. It’d been easy to tell myself that Dawson and his employees helped me because they didn’t want to see the cattle suffer, or Bucket, or Daisy. But none of the animals used the trailer. Just me.
“I don’t plan on being sweet right now.”
Again, my logical brain wouldn’t shut off. Too many years of protecting myself. “Why now?”
He was gloriously naked. I couldn’t believe I was still talking. But as much as I wanted to sleep with him—and do more than sleep this time—I had to know why we hadn’t done more than cuddle. I couldn’t figure out a reason why, but no one did anything for nothing.
He propped his hands on his hips. His erection bobbed with the movement, but he didn’t advance, like he was waiting for me to open the gate and let him in. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t have beaten yourself up about sleeping with me when you were only staying at my place because you had no choice?”
“I . . .” Totally would’ve done that. Maybe not obviously. But a small voice in my mind that sounded a lot like Pop would have pointed it out during my low points.
“You’re not in a cast anymore. You worked all day on your own ranch. And you’re staying in your own place. I think it’s time, and I’d like to unwrap you and find out how ready you are.”
So ready. I’
d been ready for weeks. He’d gotten to me. He not only wanted to understand me, he already did. The work he’d done today, and that he was standing in my tiny bedroom, proved it. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Dawson
This was going to happen. A week of excruciatingly blissful sleep. I couldn’t get enough of holding her, but I’d been painfully hard until she’d fallen asleep and I’d become too tired to maintain that much blood flow to my dick.
I prowled over her. First, I had to taste her. I dropped my mouth onto hers and she opened for me. I swept my tongue inside and grinned against her lips. “Mmm. Peanut butter.”
“I don’t have groceries.”
Yet I had a whole damn fridge full of food. But the cast was off and she was done being reliant.
I caught her mouth again but didn’t settle my weight on her. We’d waited long enough. I hadn’t ever held out this long before sleeping with someone. Either my date and I had already moved forward or I’d broken it off. It was probably the same for Bristol. She didn’t waste her time. That we’d both waited—even after we’d known each other as long as we had—told me that the chemistry between us wasn’t ordinary.
Her past influenced how much she was willing to give of herself. And I had that damn trust. But this thing between us was strong enough to get over both of those hurdles.
It had to be.
As I kissed her, I worked her shirt up, the backs of my fingers grazing against the undersides of her breast. I broke away from her and slid the shirt over her head.
My breath whooshed out. Creamy skin greeted me. Perky tits. A slender torso with gently sloping hips that slid into mile-long legs. Her red hair was rumpled around her shoulders and desire filled her crystalline-green eyes.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured.
A faint blush brushed her cheeks. She hadn’t been told that enough.
I worked my way down her body until I could lick a circle around a peaked nipple. She arched into me. Her underwear was still on. I had plans for her spectacular boobs, but those would have to wait.
King's Country (Oil Kings Book 4) Page 10
