Forever Wild: A Camden Ranch Novel

by Jillian Neal

  Irritation narrowed Tucker’s eyes for a brief moment before he shook his head. “I know she wouldn’t cheat on me. I’m just freaking out.” He lifted his hat and ran his hand through his hair before reaching for his Skoal can.

  Understanding brought a smirk to Luke’s mouth. “We freaking out about the wedding, the marriage, or the potential move?”

  “All of it. None of it. I don’t know. You heard all of those ridiculous stories of the boneheaded crap I’ve pulled. And Dad overheard me talking to Wes about moving. I swear for a minute there I thought he was gonna cry. I’ve never seen my old man cry. I’m complete chicken shit. Why the hell does somebody like Melony Harper want to marry me anyway? I was actually thinking about turning my back on my family and our land. She’s sweet and … perfect and .…” Tucker bit off the end of his declarations, clearly afraid he’d admitted far too much.

  Chuckling, Luke nodded his understanding. “I’ll give you a pass for tonight and won’t even call you a pussy for all of that.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It’s pretty obvious to everyone that Melony thinks you hung the damned moon just for her. You were thinking about moving for her, and we all did stupid shit coming up. She ain’t marrying who you were. She’s marrying who you are.”

  Tuck seemed to consider that. “Well, I ain’t moving. That’s Kilroy land and I’ll go to war with Carolyn again if I have to. I’ll just try to keep Mel out of it. And you’re getting mighty good at giving advice. Maybe we are grown up.”

  “He gets that from me.” Ev entered the kitchen just then carrying a stack of used paper plates.

  Luke couldn’t deny that. His father had been dispensing with solid advice for his entire life. Maybe not quite as good as his mama’s, but almost. His mother had, after all, tried desperately to talk him out of proposing when he was nineteen. Of course, he hadn’t listened. Before he could agree with his father’s declaration, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

  “Hey, sugar, you okay?” He hadn’t expected to hear from Indie during Melony’s party.

  “Yeah. Kinda.”

  Luke’s heart sank along with the sip of beer he swallowed down. “What’s wrong?”

  “Mel’s all sad because she and Tucker got into an argument. Everyone’s running late so no one’s really here yet. She’s worried no one’s coming. And …”

  “And?”

  “And the fact that this still bothers me just pisses me off, but Miranda invited Megan Morgan and a few of her old groupies. You remember what bitches they always were in school. And Melony wants everyone to wear these ridiculous tiaras. I don’t know. I just … wish I was with you.”

  “I’m on my way.” His heart had roared back to life somewhere in the vicinity of his gut and then had returned to his chest in one leaped bound.

  “Luke, no. Thank you, but I’m just being a big baby. I need to be here tonight for Mel. You can’t come.” The panic in her tone did nothing to change his mind. If she needed him, he’d be there come hell or high water.

  Truthfully, he didn’t really remember much about Megan Morgan other than her name. Clearly, Indie didn’t care for her. That was enough proof for him to despise most anyone. Now wasn’t the time to explain that the reason whatever had happened with this Megan person still got to her was that she’d let the wound fester instead of opening it up, talking about it with him, and letting it heal. As most infections go when they’re left untreated, they only get worse.

  “I know Holly and Nat left a little while ago headed that way. They should be pulling up anytime now. How ‘bout Tuck and I come down there. We won’t crash the party. We can just kick back a few outside of that room. That way if you need me I’m right there.”

  What in the world did I ever do to deserve someone like Luke Camden, and how in the hell did I ever leave him? Another round of self-disgust racked in the irritation already storming through Indie’s stomach. She shook her head.

  “Thanks for being so great, but really, don’t do that. If I’m gonna get Mel to loosen up and actually enjoy her own party, Tucker can’t be here. It’ll be fine. I swear. Maybe I’ll come over there after the party.” And stay? She knew beyond any shadow of a doubt what was coming out of his mouth next.

  “And stay the night finally?”

  Why couldn’t he understand that if she stayed an entire night wrapped up in warm sanctuary of his arms, she may never be able to leave? She just couldn’t take that chance. “Maybe,” she lied, too terrified to admit the truth.

  “Mmm hmm,” he knew she was placating. He always did.

  “Oh, here come Nat and Holly. Let me go. I’ll come over when this stupid thing is over with, I swear.”

  “I love you, Indie.”

  “I know.”

  Shoving her phone back in her pocket, Indie turned to greet Luke’s little sisters, thankful they were there. At least she wouldn’t be stuck with whatever the adult versions of Mean Girls looked like in Pleasant Glen all night long.

  Anxious to get the party started, Miranda stuck tiaras on Holly and Natalie’s heads and ordered them to start drinking.

  “What’s wrong with the bride?” Holly gestured to a sullen Melony, slowly sipping wine, running her fingers along the feather boa around her neck and staring off into space.

  “Got into a spat with Tucker before this. Something Mama said. I don’t know what, but help us cheer her up,” Miranda pled.

  “That I can do,” Holly beamed.

  A few teachers from the elementary school that taught with Mel showed up next and things took a turn for the better. Indie recalled one of them from back in the day, but the rest had married ranchers in the area or had been transplanted into the Pleasant Glen corn fields via their farmer husbands or some kind of Close Encounter of the Third Kind, she supposed. They seemed nice, and Melony was thrilled they’d arrived.

  “Blow jobs, blue balls, or cock sucking cowboys?” Holly called from the doorway that led back to bar.

  Indie shook her head. This was going to be a long night if they were already doing shots.

  “Let’s do a round of blow jobs. Whoever gets all of theirs down gets a prize.” Miranda leapt on the bandwagon. Melony started giggling and her smile had returned, so Indie decided to play along.

  She was thankful Ed and Eliza weren’t there that evening and had left Saddlebacks in the care of their tattooed, tongue- and brow-pierced bartender, Aaron, who looked about as out of place in the Glen as Indie felt. He lived in the garage apartment on the Wilson’s old property just outside of town and had worked the bar at Saddlebacks for several years.

  Indie suspected his rippling muscles, bad boy vibe, and edgy attitude was why Eliza had hired him without Ed’s knowledge. According to Miranda, when Aaron got the job, Ed and Eliza had gotten in an argument that lasted a full week and took place all over town. It finally ended at their house when Sheriff Wilheim was called out because Eliza had smacked Ed over his head with her favorite umbrella. After that, Aaron had proven himself to be a highly-capable, responsible bartender, and things had settled down. Why he wanted to stay in the Glen no one seemed to know, however.

  “Can we get … uh … shots for everyone?” Miranda lost just a little of her bravado when Aaron gave her an overtly flirtatious smirk.

  Indie rolled her eyes. “He probably needs to know what kind of shots to make, Randa.”

  “Oh yeah,” she giggled. Dear God, her sister actually giggled at this dude, who was admittedly good looking, but was obviously either running from the cops or somehow involved in the witness protection program to even be in this town. Besides, Aaron didn’t hold a candle to the rugged masculinity and protectiveness that was Luke Camden. You just couldn’t beat a cowboy.

  “What am I pouring up for you, sweetness?” Aaron winked at Miranda.

  Indie fought not to gag. Her sister, however, was all but swooning. “Oh good God, the chicks for the bachelorette gig in the back room thought it would be fun to do blow job shots. Just send them ba
ck when you get them made.”

  Aaron chuckled. “Aren’t you one of those chicks?”

  Simpering, Indie supposed he had her there. “Technically, but not happily.”

  “I see. Well, you two hang tight right here. I can’t leave the bar to make a delivery to the back room, and Myrna’s been talking to table five for a half hour now and still hasn’t gotten their order.” He gestured to one of the waitresses nearby. “Been a long while since I poured up BJ’s. Don’t get a lot of requests for those in the Glen.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe you can send them to the Lady’s Aid Society meeting at the church next month. I’m sure they’d appreciate that.” Indie rolled her eyes at Aaron’s snorted laughter.

  “You know these shots are basically to get guys to buy you more drinks, right?”

  “I’m not the one that decided on what we were drinking.”

  When Aaron began pouring up the Kuhlua, Saddleback’s front door gave its customary creaked whoosh. Bile singed Indie’s throat when Megan Morgan waltzed inside, followed by none other than Cindy Beltz and Heather James. They’d been attached at the hip, usually via some kind of deranged cheerleading pyramid scheme, since high school. Long live the Pleasant Glen bitch brigade. Clearly nothing had changed. Nothing ever did, she quickly reminded herself before narrowing her eyes. Her molars were likely to turn to dust if she ground her teeth any harder.

  “Indie! Oh my gosh, it’s been ages. It’s so nice to see you,” Megan declared rather loudly, but the shock echoing in Indie’s mind was so deafening she barely heard her. Miranda elbowed her and grinned.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. We’re just waiting on blowjobs.” She gestured to Aaron, who was now laughing at her outright.

  “Aren’t we all,” he commented to himself.

  The wicked trio all giggled and then offered Indie sheepish grins. They were almost … kind. Indie’s brain glitched. She blinked repeatedly. Something was clearly wrong. She was dreaming or having a stroke or something. While she tried to remember if strokes were common in her family, Megan stepped closer. Indie instinctively stepped back.

  “Listen.” Megan leaned in. Her cheeks filled with a heated flush. She glanced at Cindy, who nodded her head. “I’ve tried to work up the courage to find you every time I heard you were back in town and I didn’t. God knows I should have, but maybe I’m still an epic bitch somewhere deep inside or something. I want to apologize for the way we treated you in high school. I know it was ages ago, but that doesn’t matter. My AA counselor used to say all the time that we should clear up any past regrets whenever the opportunity arose. I deeply regret the things we used to say to you. You certainly don’t owe me your forgiveness, but I wanted you to know I’m sorry.”

  “We all want to apologize, Indie,” Cindy vowed.

  “I told you,” Miranda spoke through her teeth.

  “Hey, I heard you and Luke were back together. That’s so great. You two were always so good together. I think that’s why we were so awful to you and everyone else. We were jealous,” Heather added sheepishly. “Luke came by to check on our dog, Rufus, yesterday. Matt said it’d been a long time since he’d seen Luke so happy.”

  The mechanics of rejoining her lower jaw with her upper swam around in Indie’s mind for a full minute. “Uh,” she finally managed. “Okay. Thanks. I guess.”

  Heather grabbed her forearm and gave it a squeeze. Indie ordered herself not to smack her hand away.

  “Aaron, can I just have a 7-UP?” Megan asked. “We’ll take these gifts back and check on the party.”

  “You got it.” Aaron added a full tumbler of the fizzy drink to the tray full of shots.

  “Megan Morgan is an alcoholic?” Indie finally formulated a full sentence.

  “Apparently so.” Miranda shrugged. “Feel kind of bad we’re having this in a bar. I bet that’s hard for her.”

  “Yeah,” Indie had to agree, and yet Megan had come anyway. She’d come to celebrate with Melony and obviously to apologize to her. Wow. Either hell had officially frozen over or some things had changed.

  Carefully lifting the tray full of glasses, Indie followed Miranda back to the party. While they’d been gone, Cheyenne Miller and Makayla Harris, two of Holly’s best friends, had shown up.

  With her cohorts by her side, Holly Camden took over. She lined the shots up along the edge of the food table. “Okay, hands behind your back, lips over glass, and drink. Since there are no guys here to impress into buying us more drinks just before we turn him down for the inevitably offered dick, we’ll change the rules. For every one of us that gets it down without spilling a drop and keeping your tiara on your head, that means Tuck has to go down on Mel without her returning the favor.”

  Laughter erupted from the group of women in the back room.

  “Here I’ll show you,” Holly went on when no one stepped up to the line. Indie watched in amazement as she locked her hands behind her back, arched her back to accentuate her relatively insubstantial cleavage, wiggled her butt like there were a dozen college-guys watching, and wrapped her lips over the shot glass. When she’d downed the whole thing, she set the glass back on the table via her mouth, stood, and bowed.

  “If Luke Camden saw her doing that, he’d shit an entire cow,” Indie commented to no one in particular.

  Cindy and Megan laughed heartily, however. “There is no doubt about that. I imagine Brock, Grant and Austin would have the same reaction,” Megan agreed.

  “And Mr. Camden,” Cindy agreed.

  “They could shit themselves a whole new ranch,” Heather giggled.

  Taking in the room around her filled with feathers, inflatable penises, and hand cuffs, watching little Holly Camden do shots, and laughing with those formally known as the bitch brigade made Indie all the more certain she’d gotten off at the Twilight Zone bus stop in the recent past.

  “Well, come on everyone. Megan can be the judge,” Holly graciously included Megan without encouraging her to drink. Indie wondered if it bothered Megan to watch everyone else down shots.

  “Given what we’re trying to win for Melony, I’m not likely to say any of you spilled any.” Megan’s entire body was strained though she’d tried for a joke.

  “True, but still it’ll be fun.” Holly directed everyone to the line of shot glasses.

  Cindy followed Indie up to the table. “I tell myself all the time I can still party like I did in my twenties, then I get around kids actually in their twenties, and I’m like nope, can’t do it anymore.”

  Indie couldn’t help but agree. Heated remembrances sizzled in her cheeks as she clasped her hands behind her back the very same way Luke ordered her to every single time she gave him a blow job of the non-alcoholic variety, not that sucking on his cock was any less intoxicating. It was an activity she rather enjoyed a great deal more than doing shots with old classmates and her little sisters. She loved his thickened heat, the husky groans he made that sounded like they were wrenched up from his soul, and the flavors of his salty musk. Stifling a moan from the thought alone, she studied the milky shot she was about to take and tried to remember what Aaron had added beyond the Kahlua.

  Cindy gave Indie a quick grin. “Hey, you know, I could skip this whole deal and record you doing it on your phone. You could send it to Luke and we could see how fast he got up here. Bet he’d plow right through half of the cattle guards on Camden Ranch.”

  Okay, so the overt attempt at female bonding was a little over the top, but it was also kind of nice. Indie forced a smile. “For the sake of the cattle and the fences on the ranch, let’s not get him up here.” They both laughed. “Plus, I really do not want him to see all of the Pinky Party Peckers.”

  That did it. Cindy doubled over laughing.

  “Okay, everyone ready?” Megan called. Indie noted the edge of anxiety in her tone. This stupid game was hard for her. Clearly Megan Morgan had demons Indie had known nothing about. Demons that most certainly played too close to the surface in a bar.

&nbs
p; In that moment, as Indie leaned over the table, the girls who were so cruel to her in high school became three dimensional. They hadn’t only inflicted pain — they’d also endured it.

  As she wrapped her lips over the shot glass and fought not to drool like an idiot, she lost just a little of the wrath she’d always clung to like armor. They were grown women, and every single time she came home she’d played judge, jury, and executioner in a mental trial of memories she lorded over them in her head that no one else attended. Maybe it was time to let bygones be bygones. Maybe.

  Performing the shot, Indie swallowed down the drink, set the glass back on the table, and wiped the residual alcohol from her chin. Dirty innuendoes and laughter filled the air. Indie found herself genuinely smiling and enjoying herself. She shook her head as Melony laughed through the shot, bubbling the contents and effectively covering her mouth and shirt in liquor.

  “I’m not thinking Tuck would appreciate you laughing with him in your mouth,” Holly taunted.

  “I couldn’t. He fills up my whole mouth.” Melony turned seven shades of red at her own joke.

  When Myrna showed up with pitchers of margaritas and platters of food, everyone dug in.

  Two shots and two margaritas was apparently Cindy Beltz’s limit. “Do you know who called me yesterday?” she asked far too loudly.

  Indie bit her lips together when Cindy hiccupped. Since she was probably the most sober of anyone there, besides Megan, she decided to see if maybe Aaron could fix them up with some coffee.

  “Mama. She needs rent money again. Like I ain’t been paying it for a year now.”

  Freezing at the door, Indie tried to recall what she knew about the Beltz family.

  “She hadn’t been around for two decades, Cin, why the hell do you still pay her rent?” Heather spoke in between long draws of her drink.

  “I know, but if she gets thrown out of another place she’ll come stay with Rich and me, and he’ll lose it and leave again.”

  Wow. Had Cindy’s mother left when she was in school? How had Indie never known that? And her husband had clearly left her at some point. Shaking her head, she rushed back to the bar. She didn’t want Cindy to embarrass herself with anymore drunken confessions. At one time, she’d hated her, but now … she felt sorry for her. Cursing the empathy that took up residence in her heart without her permission, she asked Myrna if they could get some coffees.