King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3)

by Marie Johnston

  Those pink lips I’d rather nibble turned down. “When you go home, you help your brother.”

  “Savvy, Dawson has employees and he’s taken what Mama and Dad built with the ranch and expanded it. Beckett’s a CEO—at a company he built—and lives in a mansion. Aiden is the CFO of King Oil and works sixteen-hour days. And except for Dawson, who’s got a year left before his deadline hits, they’ve saved their trusts and they’re still married.”

  “And we’re still within the year where it looks like we’re only together to get rich.”

  I feathered my fingers along her cheek. “You know that’s not why I’m with you. But they don’t.”

  She furrowed her brows. “Then why not go show them?”

  “It’s not you, Savvy. It’s not us. I don’t give a shit about what they think about us.” A pang of longing tugged at my chest. I missed home. I missed wanting to be home, and I hadn’t had that for a while. I missed by brothers. I missed . . . having a parent I was close to.

  As if she could read my mind, she said quietly, “You should talk to him and tell him everything. Not for him, but for you.”

  I stroked a lock of golden hair off her face. “For me, huh?”

  “I can tell it bothers you. I don’t know what’ll happen after, but it’s gotta beat avoiding your home and your family.”

  “I could tell him everything, and then what?” I go out and feed some cattle while I have no career and my Dad and brothers think I married for millions of dollars? I didn’t care what they thought of me and Savvy. I knew what we had was real. But . . . Aw, fuck. I did care what they thought. If I had something else in my repertoire to keep me from looking like a loser, it wouldn’t be an issue. “I know you’ve noticed I haven’t worked on my photography.”

  She stroked my chest, her fingers warm and soft. “If you could take pictures of one place in the world, where would it be and why?”

  The answer was immediate. Montana, and because my mother had loved it. She’d lived and breathed home and family. She’d been the glue that had held us together as a unit. Now, we just traveled individually to and from the house, from King’s Creek, rarely gathering as a large group. Four times. That’d been it since we’d all graduated high school. Dad’s heart attack and all the weddings—Aiden’s, Dad’s, then Beckett’s.

  No one’d had a chance to gather at my wedding. Typical Xander.

  Instead, I said, “I don’t know.” Her brow furrowed, so before she could call me out for my lie, I blurted, “New Zealand.”

  “New Zealand? Have you been there?”

  I shook my head. “No. It seemed too commercial for my tastes at the time, but I can’t deny the picturesque beauty of the place.” All true. Stunning scenery that had been the backdrop of many movies. It was an easy answer, the low-hanging fruit of the landscape photography world, like Alaska, but more exotic to a Montana boy.

  “But does it inspire stories?”

  “I haven’t been there.”

  There was that furrow again. “What are you going to do with the money?”

  “I plan to stay married to you if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Xander, your mother trusted you and your brothers with an enormous sum. What are Aiden and Beckett doing?”

  “I have no idea what Aiden plans to do with his. He lives in a nice house, but he and Kate don’t travel much other than going to King’s Creek. He won’t waste it, I know that. And Beckett and Eva have set up a lot of programs and charities to pay it forward.”

  “Then maybe if you had a plan, you’d feel better about going home.”

  “I don’t plan,” I answered automatically. I wasn’t going to spend a hundred million I didn’t have. I intended to keep my wife, but I wasn’t the only one with a say in this marriage.

  “That’s been kind of the problem though, hasn’t it?” Her tone was soft but no less chastising.

  I bristled. The urge to roll out of bed and go for a walk hit me. I couldn’t think with a pair of sapphire eyes stripping me bare. But I’d wake up the others. Buckling down and finishing a conversation with my wife shouldn’t make me want to crawl out of my skin. “Fine, let’s go home.”

  “Xander—”

  I cupped her face and it was enough to shush her. “No, I mean it.” I didn’t. “I want you to meet everyone.” That part was true at least. My brothers would love her, and I could withstand their side-eyes. “I can help Dawson work cattle.”

  Her gaze was guarded. “Are you sure?”

  I answered honestly. “I’m sure Dad and Kendall would like to see you again too.” I wouldn’t mind proving to him that I had something real with Savvy. This girl was important to me.

  She studied my face for several moments before she offered a hesitant smile. “I’m also a little homesick.”

  I hadn’t thought to ask how she was doing being away from the States for so long. She might miss her family, but she might also miss being surrounded by everything familiar. She’d been unshakable—eating food she’d never had before, grappling with a new language, doing work she’d never done in nature that was unlike anything she’d grown up in. The least I could do for her was get us back to Montana.

  I wrapped my arm around her and tugged her closer, grateful the conversation was over. I could deal with Montana later. Capturing her lips with mine, I deepened our kiss before pulling back to murmur, “Think we can keep the springs from squeaking?”

  Chapter 16

  Savvy

  The airplane touched down. I had my face plastered to the window for the last hour. Giddy that I was back in the States, but already missing Kosovo and my friends, I soaked up the sights.

  “I expected more mountains,” I said sheepishly. I knew nothing about Montana other than it had Yellowstone Park, mountains, and cowboys. The terrain out the window could very well have plenty of cowboys, but it was flatter. I’d spotted the river valley from Xander’s pictures as the King Oil jet descended.

  A private jet. What a freaking waste of jet fuel, but we were broke for a little over five more months. Saving the world was easier with a steady cash flow.

  “They’re there,” Xander replied, his usual rugged, sexy self in the same blue jeans he always wore and his hemp pullover. The cowboy boots were more worn than before from his time in the country, but he’d mentioned getting another pair while he was back. “Just not so much in eastern Montana, where there’s more buttes, and we’re in a river valley. It gets really green in the summer, but brown this time of year.”

  I nodded. Yeah, green was giving way to brown outside the window. I’d expected to be surrounded by buildings and unable to see the land, but the airport at King’s Creek was a little more than a few square metal buildings that were probably hangers. A parking lot was scattered with a few cars on the other side of the main building—the actual airport.

  This was a small town.

  “Is it bad that this is the smallest town I’ve been to?”

  Xander chuckled and unbuckled himself. He stood and stretched. The hem of his sweater rode close to the top of his waistband. I waited for the tantalizing bit of skin to show, but the damn sweater was too long.

  I was getting a possessive streak regarding my husband. I’d like a room to ourselves. A bed to ourselves. And the ability to be loud when we had sex. Nothing that was a necessity, but there it was. I might not know what I wanted to be when I grew up, but free to have noisy adult relations with Xander whenever I wanted was essential.

  “A few of the villages in Kosovo were smaller,” he pointed out.

  “We traveled through them. We didn’t stay there.” He was from here. All of Xander’s past was here. I wasn’t sure what our future was going to be like after the start we’d gotten, but everything that made him him was in this town. Where he’d gone to school, his first kiss, the roads he’d learned to drive on.

  I’d never seen him drive. “How are we getting to Dawson’s?” Did King’s Creek have Uber? Did it even have a bus?
/>   “He and one of his hired guys, Tucker, dropped off a vehicle.” He sucked in a breath and peered out the window toward the parking lot. “Hopefully it’s not Beckett’s old wheels.”

  “Why?”

  He smirked. “You’ll see.” Lifting his chin toward Shirley, he said, “Great flight as always.”

  The flight attendant grinned, her expression indulgent, like she’d gotten to fly her kids around the world. “You always take me to the best places.”

  “Taking off somewhere else after this?”

  She shook her head. “Going back to Billings to be on standby. Kendall rescheduled all the meetings for the next couple of weeks. I think we might be picking up Eva and Beckett this weekend.”

  Xander’s jaw tightened. Did his family stress him out that much? I’d be thrilled if I could be with all my sisters again, even pain in the ass, bossy Em. I’d taken for granted how long we’d all lived in proximity to each other. Photos over the phone weren’t the same.

  My scant luggage was waiting at the bottom of the steps leading out of the jet. Xander hefted both our bags, his backpack slung over his back. I clutched mine for dear life and smelled the fresh mountain air—

  And coughed. Exhaust fumes and the smell of hot tarmac weren’t fresh mountain air. I scrunched my face up and waved my hand in front of my nose.

  Xander grinned. “Living with Hector and Eris spoiled us.”

  Mentioning our friends sent a pang of longing through me. Their little girl had a head full of dark hair and looked like a miniature Hector. Xander and I had stayed long enough to meet the new arrival. Brady had remained behind, muttering something about helping them through the winter, but he was always watching Rina. I hoped he lasted the winter. Hard work and a woman who didn’t put up with his shit agreed with him more than the soul-sucking job hunting he’d been doing.

  A man with sparse, graying hair rushed out to meet us. He wore nothing but jeans and a T-shirt and had a set of keys dangling in his hand.

  “Hey, Xander. Dawson left these for you.”

  “Thanks, Rick. I’ll apologize ahead of time for the noise.”

  The man chuckled. “Every time I hear those pipes, I expect to see some teenage King boys. Now that you’re all grown up behind the wheel and obeying the speed limit? It’s just odd.” He rushed back inside.

  Xander led me through the one-room airport and out the front doors.

  I soaked up King’s Creek. In the distance, mountains were just visible in a haze. The sun was warm, similar to the weather we’d just left.

  “Will it get cold here at night too?”

  “Probably. You never know. We could get snow next week and then have temps in the sixties all October.” He tipped his head toward a large, obnoxious, gas-guzzling pickup in the corner of the lot. “That’s our ride.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Not exactly environmentally friendly. It probably gets five miles to the gallon.”

  I stared at the monstrosity with jacked wheels and a row of extra lights with KC printed on each bulb. “Who’d want to drive that?”

  He shot me a lopsided grin. “A teenage cowboy. Beck, to be exact. I think Dawson takes it out muddin’ and that’s the real reason he won’t get rid of it, but I guess Eva’s forbidden him from ever selling it.”

  Eva was Beck’s wife. From what Shirley had said, I’d meet her soon. Xander helped me crawl up into the monster truck, then jogged around and swung in like he’d done it a million times. He probably had.

  He fired up the engine and I jumped. “Good God, is it really that loud?”

  He grinned and pulled out. When we hit the highway that ran to town, he floored it and the pipes rumbled, making my bones vibrate. I laughed, horrified and exhilarated. At least the truck wasn’t sitting in a dump somewhere, it was still getting used. That was the only contribution driving it had offered.

  The way to his brother’s ranch was interesting—and beautiful. We zoomed past a mix of brownish-green pastures dotted with cattle and fields full of dried golden something.

  “Corn,” Xander answered when I asked. “Some sunflowers.” He rambled on about whether the fields might be for a rancher’s personal use or to sell on the market. I got a quick education in all things farming and ranching but it hardly skimmed the surface.

  I recalled the article he’d been writing and the pictures he’d taken. “How’s that similar to the Philippines?”

  “Corn’s a staple crop there too, but sunflowers aren’t the crop there like they are here.” He explained more differences and similarities as he pulled into a long drive. At the end was an impressive log cabin. A better description might be mansion. The place was huge with picture windows, a peaked roof, and a porch meant for long nights watching the sunset and drinking lemonade.

  A large barn and at least two shops were spread out on the property and surrounded by fences. Cattle grazed in a few pastures and horses in another.

  “Wow. This place is huge.” Washington, DC was big. It had huge buildings and large houses. But the sheer amount of land around this one ranch . . . The buildings next to the house were as big as grocery stores. Somehow, at the same time, it had a coziness I hadn’t been expecting. This place was a home.

  “It’s where I grew up.”

  I could picture a young Xander careening through the lawn and toward the barn, his little cowboy boots kicking up dirt. What would it have been like? This was why I was so into the environment. I’d been so distanced from it, living in the middle of a big city, surrounded by more big cities. Any time we got past the city limits had felt precious. I swore the spaces were getting gobbled up faster than I could blink. What was once a field Pearl and I had flown kites in was now a superstore. A development had gone into the area that Em had used to run cross-country. I’d become passionate, driven—and more city bound.

  Kosovo had been a revelation about what I was physically capable of. Montana was enlightening too. I loved my home, but it wasn’t my future. I wasn’t sure what that was yet, but it wasn’t living off my parents or making my home in a place surrounded by concrete.

  The house was a testament to modernity, but the land embraced it. They supported each other. The people who lived and worked here did it for themselves, but also for the animals, and the land.

  I’d expected a giant feed lot with cattle packed side by side. Instead, black cows, some white, dotted the pastures that stretched for miles. “Talk about grass-fed beef.”

  Xander saw me eying the grazing cattle. “We supplement too. It’s hard not to with the size Dawson has, but yeah, it’s pretty damn close to free-range, organic, grass-fed meat.” He lifted a shoulder. “Plus Dawson wouldn’t feed his animals garbage. It might not be organic, but it’s well researched and good for them. The reality behind the beef industry sucks, but Dawson’s managing despite it all. A lot of ranchers are.”

  Some of my classmates had been gunning for the beef industry, but I hadn’t been as interested in that as energy. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  Was this the equivalent of writer’s block? Did he have photography block? He hadn’t elaborated on our late-night discussion of what he’d like to do with his money—with his life. “I’d love to learn more about it. All I’ve heard is the bad.”

  “Sure. Dawson would be happy to talk about it.” He parked and slid out. I stared at him for a moment before I got out after him. I wanted him to tell me. Yet I couldn’t explain why it was so important that he didn’t shrug that off too.

  A man as tall as Xander swaggered out of the barn. Cats scattered as soon as he cleared the doorframe, like they were ashamed at having been caught existing near humans. He wore a cowboy hat and a joyful grin. The man that must be Dawson clapped his work gloves together before he gave us a full-armed wave.

  “Do I finally get to meet the missus?” He jogged toward us, his gait easy with those long legs.

  Xander shoved his hands into his pockets and gri
nned. “I promised her that you were only an asshole on the weekends.”

  “And it’s Tuesday. We’re in luck.” His brown eyes sparkled as he removed a glove and stuck his hand out. “I was just playing with some barn cats, so I recommend you wash your hand after you shake mine.”

  “Okay?” I laughed as he pumped my hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Savvy. Or is it Sapphire for those not married to you?” The guy was a flirt, that was obvious, but I felt nothing but brotherly love. He didn’t give me any hint that he thought I was only with Xander for the money.

  “Actually, only my family calls me Sapphire.”

  His grin turned sly. “Do you like them?”

  “Most days.”

  “Sapphire it is, seeing as how we’re family now. Come on in. The bedroom is the same as you left it.” That last remark was aimed at Xander.

  He leaned down to my ear. “It’s a full bed at least.”

  I giggled and Dawson looked back at us, his brow quirking. “How was the flight?”

  “Long.”

  “And grueling in the jet, right,” Dawson said wryly as he bolted up the steps of the porch. He held the front door open for us. “Xander said that you don’t eat much meat, so I went to the farmer’s market and scored some butternut squash and a spaghetti squash. I had to fight Mrs. Pemberly for the eggs the McKinley girl was selling, but I got a couple dozen.”

  “Mrs. Pemberly still hates you for losing every library book you ever checked out.”

  Dawson’s grin was unrepentant. “She’s the only lady I haven’t won over yet.”

  “The only?”

  Dawson lost his grin. “I said lady. Bristol Cartwright doesn’t count.”

  I played the name through my mind. Xander saw my confusion and clarified, “The neighbor.”

  “The still-broke neighbor cuz you tolerate Xander.” Dawson chortled and led us into a kitchen that was set off from the rest of the main floor by an island and breakfast bar. The open layout inside the house showed off the woodwork and the rustic railing running along the stairs and the second-floor landing. “What’s your poison? Coffee? Lemonade? Beer?”