“Willa, I think I might have to marry that man,” Tilly whispered.
“I see my brother is making friends,” Porter called out, entering the barn with a herd of bunnies trailing after him and Miss Trix.
Callum struggled to stand upright and sent Willa a knowing smirk. Damn that man. He could find the chink in her armor in seconds.
“Good ride, Porter,” Marguerite called out. “I see your fans loved it too.”
She also sent a smirk to Willa twisting the knife Callum had stabbed her with years ago when he slept with Marguerite while dating her.
Porter tossed Miss Trix’s reins to his brother and pulled Willa against his chest. “It was your good luck kiss that did it.”
“Or the other kisses you got,” Willa whispered, embarrassed she’d let her insecurities show.
“Nope. Yours are the only ones that matter,” Porter leaned down and kissed her in front of everyone. All thoughts of humping bunnies transformed into thoughts of her and Porter, well, humping like bunnies.
“I’d like to think I matter too,” a drop-dead gorgeous redhead said from behind him.
“Yeah, Porter. I matter too,” a tall leggy blonde said, coming to stand next to the redhead.
“What’s this about?” a second redhead asked.
“Porter says she’s the only one who matters to him,” the first redhead said, crossing her arms over her chest as she nodded her head at Willa. Willa flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. Who were these women and what did they mean to Porter? No matter how well he kissed, Willa was not sharing him.
“We’ll see what he says at dinner when he wants my dessert,” the second redhead said.
“You’re too good to him,” an exotic-looking woman with dark hair and big brown eyes said. “I never share my dessert with him.”
“Oh my gosh,” Marguerite laughed. “He has a harem.”
“Poor Willa, she’s like number eight on this list. Maybe she’ll get to see him for an hour a day,” Valentina laughed.
“You look familiar,” Callum said, looking at the blonde. “Did I sleep with you?”
The blonde crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her gaze at him. “Hardly, though not for your lack of trying, Mr. Harding. And you three, Cyril Van Doren, Marguerite Borghese, and Valentina Bianchi. You’re all blacklisted.”
“Blacklisted?” Valentina said with a snort of amusement. “How can some country bumpkin blacklist us?”
Willa watched them laugh and then she took a real good look at the blonde. “It’s nice to see you again,” Willa said around Porter’s shoulders with a slow smile at the surprise connection.
“You remember?” the blonde asked with a smile.
“I do. We met at Fashion Week and I bought several of your designs. They’re my favorites,” Willa said to mega designer and former model Sydney Davies. Porter said he had a large family. The last name couldn’t be just a coincidence.
The minions stopped laughing as one of them gasped.
“You’re Sydney Davies. The supermodel,” Callum sputtered as he instantly tried to pull himself up to full height and send her his trademark grin.
“And designer,” Marguerite said. “I am so sorry. We were just teasing an old family friend. It wasn’t anything personal, Sydney.”
“It’s Mrs. McKnight. And my cousin is right, you’re all assholes. You’re also not the kind of people I want to wear my clothes,” Sydney said before turning back to Willa. “You two on the other hand, I would love you to see what I’m working on now.”
“I would love that,” Tilly said, holding out her hand. “Tilly Bradford.”
Sydney shook her hand with a kind smile on her face. Willa had liked Sydney when she’d met her years ago. She’d always seemed down-to-earth and today she liked her even more.
The redheads stepped forward next. “I’m Reagan Ashton, this one’s older sister,” Reagan said with a nod of her head toward Porter.
“And I’m Riley Walz, his other older sister. It’s nice to meet you.”
Willa shook their hands and introduced Tilly to them as well.
“Why do I know the name Reagan Ashton?” Tilly asked out loud. Willa wanted to shush her, but it was no good. Tilly usually spoke her mind, just not around the minions who were currently eavesdropping, all while trying to suck up to Sydney.
“She doesn’t like to brag,” Riley said, shooting some serious side-eye at the minions that made Willa laugh. “But her husband is Carter Ashton and together they own some of the best thoroughbreds around.”
“This year’s Derby winner,” Tilly exclaimed delightedly as the minions almost tripped over themselves to hear.
“That was us,” Reagan said with a proud smile.
“Okay, you got enough time. It’s my turn now,” the stunning woman with dark hair said, pushing the twins apart. She held out her hand and glared. “I’m the best friend and I need to make sure you’re good enough for Porter.”
“Ari!” Porter groaned from where he stood talking to Parker.
Willa didn’t know what to say. It was usually the reverse—her father asking if the man she was dating was good enough for her.
“Well, I’m Willa Aldridge,” Willa said, shaking the woman’s hand. She rolled her eyes at Willa and Willa was afraid she’d said something wrong.
“I know that. My brother gave me your file. I already know about your education, including the B-minus you got in sixth grade history, your career, your show stats, why you’re really in Lexington, the date last night, and the speeding ticket you got when you turned sixteen. Those are just facts. I want to know about you,” the woman Porter called Ari said, staring her down.
How? Who? What? This woman couldn’t know those things. “Who are you?” Willa blurted.
“Ariana Ali Rahman-Duke,” she said as if it should tell Willa everything she should know. And it did. The only thing she was confused about was how someone like Porter was best friends with Ariana. Cowboys and princesses didn’t usually run in the same circles.
“Of course she’s not good enough,” Marguerite said with a mocking little laugh. “I am, though. Marguerite Borghese. I think we have some friends in common, your highness.”
“None of the ones I like,” Ari said with a roll of her eyes before turning back to Willa. “So, are you good enough for my best friend?”
There was an element to Ariana that reminded her of Marguerite—the confidence in knowing who they were and where they stood in the world. It was intimidating, but while Willa wasn’t royalty, she was far from a nobody. She was an intelligent, kind, and compassionate person and that was enough.
“I am,” Willa said with a confidence she used only in business negotiations, because that is what it felt like. It felt as if she were in a boardroom for a hostile takeover. “I’m a good, trustworthy person and so is Porter.”
Ariana stared at her for a moment. “Are they your friends?” she asked, nodding to the minions.
“No,” Willa answered immediately. “Tilly is, though. She’s my best friend.”
Ari nodded again as if she were taking that information and processing it. “Okay. I like you . . . for now. But you hurt Porter . . . I’ll make you live to regret it,” she whispered.
Willa was beginning to get used to threats and that thought alone made her giggle. Ari narrowed her eyes at her. “Sorry, it’s not the first time my life has been threatened in the past twenty-four hours.”
Ari wrinkled her nose. “I heard about that. Are you okay? Seriously, I know people who can fix that problem.” Gone was the mean Ari and in her place was a friend.
“Totally,” Riley said as her sister nodded in agreement.
“Our dad could—” Reagan started to say but Porter cut her off.
“Is the whole family here?” Porter asked as he joined them.
“Oh, yes. Everyone is here.” Sydney said.
“Goodness. Who are they?” Tilly blurted out. Everyone turned to look at the group of men wa
lking into the barn.
“Out of my way,” Valentina said, shoving Marguerite aside as she leapt out into the aisle to intercept the group of tall, sexy men.
“Those are our husbands,” Ari said, her voice full of warning.
Valentina stuttered in her steps, turned, and walked back to Callum’s setup.
“Hey, guys,” Porter said, welcoming the growing group. “Willa, meet my friends. This is Matt, he’s Riley’s husband. And this is Carter, he’s Reagan’s husband,” Porter said as Willa shook each man’s hand. “And that’s Deacon, he’s Sydney’s husband. And last is Jameson, Ari’s husband.”
“It’s nice to meet you all,” Willa said with a smile.
“You say that now,” Matt said with a shake of his head. “Wait until later. So, a word of warning for the newbie. Run. Run real fast because Gemma is on her way with a dinner invite. If you can’t disembowel someone with a spoon or shoot a target from three hundred yards, you’ll be eaten alive.”
“What is it with your family and spoons? And who is Gemma?” Willa asked Porter as everyone laughed in response, but Porter didn’t. Instead, his face was slightly pale and he looked more nervous than when he’d had a gun pointed at his head.
12
“My mom is on her way? Here? With a dinner invite?” Porter asked the men. No, no, no. He loved his mother, but this was bad, very bad. They’d send Willa running for the hills.
“Yup. You have less than thirty seconds to hightail it out of here,” Deacon said with a shudder. “I still have nightmares from my first family dinner.”
Sydney patted his arm. “It’s okay, honey. You survived.”
“Barely,” he muttered.
Willa laughed, clearly thinking they were teasing her, but they weren’t. A Davies family dinner was akin to a CIA interrogation at a black site.
“The axes,” Matt shuddered.
“The hand-to-hand,” Deacon shivered.
Reagan rolled her eyes at them. “They don’t do that with the girlfriends.”
“They do now,” Ari said. “I’m not a Davies, but Abby told me she went through the course because her mom and the Davies moms said it was sexist to not treat the women the same as the men. Jace’s sweet Stella ran from her dinner. Wyatt and Camila military crawled. And Layne and Walker climbed out a window.”
“That was more over babysitting,” Porter said, remembering that night.
“Yeah, but Tammy did interrogate Stella at that dinner,” Parker pointed out.
“Exactly how big is your family?” Willa asked after hearing all the names bandied about. “And is that Gemma?”
“Crap,” Porter cursed. “That’s my mom.”
“Why does she have a bodyguard?” Willa asked as she looked at the intimidating man walking beside her.
The group laughed, except Porter groaned. “That’s my dad.” It was too late now. There was no escape.
“Sweetie, you were amazing out there!” Gemma cried, holding out her arms for her son who obediently bent down to hug his mother.
“Thanks, Mom,” Porter said as he stood up. She’d supported him in every crazy thing he’d wanted to do in his life. He loved her with all his heart, but right now he just wanted to get her away from Willa.
“So nice watching you do something where you’re not about to be killed every second.” His mother stopped and then shrugged. “Well, except for dinner last night. But who hasn’t been held at gunpoint every now and then?” His mother turned to Willa and flashed a large smile. “You must be my son’s girlfriend. I’m his mother, Gemma Davies.”
“Um, I, we,” Willa stuttered. They’d had one date. He didn’t know if that qualified them as boyfriend and girlfriend. Not that he would mind. He liked Willa. A lot. But he had a job to do and his mother scaring his target off wasn’t a good start.
“Mom, it was one date. Let’s see if Willa even wants to go out with me for a second one before you turn her into my girlfriend,” Porter said dryly as Parker hid his laughter behind a cough.
“Wait, did you say Gemma Davies?” Valentina asked, poking her head back up. “As in the Gemma Davies, the famous author whose books have all been made into huge blockbusters?”
Porter saw the puzzle piece click into place for Willa. Porter wasn’t just some poor cowboy. His mother was famous. His friend was a princess. His cousin was a famous model and designer.
Willa suddenly burst out laughing.
“They’ve broken you, haven’t they?” Porter asked. “You’re in hysterics.”
Willa shook her head. “I thought you didn’t know who I am. I thought you didn’t know about my job, the money, the power . . . but you did, didn’t you? You just didn’t care. Heck, you’re more connected than I am.”
“Of course I knew. I live in Kentucky, not a cave. But why would I care?”
Willa looked at him and then around at his friends. He tried to see what she was seeing. He saw that no one cared who she was or what family she came from. Not a single one of them. They didn’t care what she did for a living or who her father was. The men had joked about the family dinners, but they were all hugging his mother and father and laughing with each other as they talked as a group. This was his family. They only cared if you were a good person.
“You wouldn’t. I’m sorry. I’m just shell-shocked,” Willa admitted after a moment.
“I know. My family is overwhelming.”
“They’re great,” Willa said with a kind smile. “What other secrets are you keeping, Porter Davies?”
“What secrets are you keeping, Willa Aldridge?” Porter asked in return.
Willa gave a little gulp. She’s told him some last night, but not all. It didn’t matter. No matter how much sexual chemistry they had, she wasn’t going to trust him with that information anytime soon. Instead of answering, she smiled and stepped away from Porter and in between Valentina and Gemma.
“We got interrupted earlier. I’m Willa Aldridge,” Willa said, holding out her hand for Gemma. Gemma didn’t shake it, though. She wrapped Willa up in a motherly hug instead.
“It’s so nice to meet you. Come meet Porter’s father.”
“Your husband?”
“When he’s good,” Gemma joked. “Honey, this is Porter’s girlfriend, Willa Aldridge. Willa, this is my husband, Cy Davies.”
“Just because you call her his girlfriend doesn’t make it so, Gem,” Cy said to his wife before turning to look seriously at her and holding out his hand to her. Willa shook it, but he didn’t let go. “Or are you his girlfriend?”
Oh no. Porter knew exactly what his father was up to.
“I am interested in learning more about the position,” Willa said just as seriously. Porter thought he saw his father’s lip quirk, but he couldn’t be sure.
“You’re Willa Aldridge, daughter of Brian Aldridge?” Cy asked.
“Yes.”
“You were just named company president, correct?” Cy asked, leaving no time between questions.
“Yes.”
“You must keep a lot of secrets in a company that deals with technology.”
“Yes. What are—” Willa started to say, but Cy shushed her.
“Are you loyal to the United States?”
“Of course, why?”
Cy shushed her again. Gemma rolled her eyes. Porter wanted to rescue her, but he didn’t. He needed to see if his father found the same thing he had—that Willa Aldridge was innocent of treason.
“I’m a patriot. I’m kind. I’m loyal. I love horses. I hate cilantro.”
“And you’d let my son be shot in order to protect whatever secret you are keeping.”
“Yes. I’m so sorry. I would have let him be killed in order to prevent the knowledge I have from getting into the wrong hands. I understand if you don’t want me to date your son.”
Cy’s lips tilted up. Tilly sucked in a breath next to him and started fanning herself. “Not date him? Hell, that makes you the only one good enough to date him.” He dropped her
hand and turned to Porter. “Tell Naylor he’s an idiot.”
Porter nodded in agreement. Willa wasn’t guilty. Her life was clearly in danger and he was going to do everything he could to protect her.
“Oh my gosh. How many hot men are in your family?” Tilly asked him.
Porter followed her gaze to the new arrivals. “The dark-haired one is Kale Mueez. He’s a family friend and a computer genius. You’ll remember my cousin Landon. Next to him is his brother, Colton. He’s a fireman. And the last one is—”
“Holt Everett, the country singer. You know them all?” Tilly asked as the fanning increased.
“Yeah. We all grew up together in Keeneston.”
“Where?” Tilly asked, crinkling her nose as if trying to place the town.
“Keeneston. It’s a nearby small town.”
“Do they have any houses for sale? I think I need to move,” Tilly joked.
Porter chuckled, but his laughter stopped as Kale’s serious face caught his attention. Why? Because Kale was never serious. “Parker, will you introduce Tilly and Willa to everyone?”
“Sure thing,” Parker said, seeing the same thing Porter did. Kale nodded with his head to the side barn door and didn’t stop walking while the others were greeted and brought her into the group.
Porter followed him past Callum’s stalls and out the side door until they were assured of their privacy. “Ryan stopped by the farm last night after he wrapped up your spooning incident. That’s just gross.” Kale shuddered. “My father was impressed. Just another thing I’m not doing right.”
Kale’s father was the infamous Ahmed. Ahmed’s daughter, Abby, was a chip off the old block, but Kale was more of a badass behind a keyboard. This summer Kale’s father had ordered him home and had him in intensive physical training.
Kale had bulked up over the past three weeks but didn’t look happy about it. Probably because he was bruised from the last sparring match with his brother-in-law, Dylan Davies.
“Anyway, Ryan asked me to find out everything I could on the attacker. He’s the hired muscle for The Panther,” Kale said in a low whisper.
Forever Thrown: Forever Bluegrass #16 Page 8