Denim Blues: Montana Heirs 1

by Ashley Kay

  “Clark Kent?” his eyebrows knit together, trying to hide his mirth.

  “If you put on a pair of black-rimmed glasses with those denim blues, women will line up to have you play their superman.” I cover my mouth, not believing I said that out loud.

  Tilting his head back, he laughs. A big, rumbly, authentic laugh. It’s magnetic, and I want to hear more of it. He turns those smoldering eyes toward me, my heart quickening into possible arrhythmia.

  “Alright, Lois Lane, what did we win?”

  Ripping into the envelope and feeling giddy, I whip out two coupons and hold it up to his face. He scrunches up his nose as he reads the words out loud. “Two free entrees at Mae’s Diner. What’s Mae’s Diner? It sounds a little podunk.”

  I poke into his arm, huffing my displeasure. “It is not podunk. Mae’s is only the best little diner around. Their pecan pie is to die for.” I close my eyes, imagining that pie and its buttery, flaky crust. When I open them, he’s staring at my mouth. His eyes raise back to mine and widen slightly.

  Coughing, he says, “Ok, ok, I believe you. When do we get to go taste this pie?”

  “Right now, if you want. I bet you’re hungry from your flight and after all that running and climbing.” On cue, his stomach growls like a wolf trying to claw its way out. I laugh as he rubs his protesting belly.

  “I guess I haven’t eaten in a while, but I’m not really in the mood to be social. Can I take a rain check?” his face pinches, and he looks so drained, I try not to be disappointed.

  “No problem, rain check it is.”

  “Do you mind showing me where I’m staying? Considering we’re going to be neighbors and all.”

  I flush. Neighbors. More like roommates.

  “Follow me, it’s within walking distance.”

  We’re quiet for a while as we walk toward the house. I watch his face as he takes in the sights of the facility and the surrounding mountain scenes. It never gets old to me.

  “It’s like a picture,” he says, his voice low and soft, not wanting to break the spell that nature has put on him.

  “It’s my favorite place to be.” Hopefully, becomes yours too.

  “Here is your humble abode.” I spread my arms wide as we stand in front of the steps to the house.

  He crosses his arms, face perplexed. “It’s … nice.” He makes it sound anything but nice.

  Hands on my hips, my voice trembles, “I’m sorry it isn’t a Hilton or one of your penthouses, but you’ll have to get over it or build a freaking tent to live in for a year.”

  He rattles me. One minute he’s nice and almost seems normal, the next he turns into a spoiled brat. I dig out the set of keys from my bag and pluck one off the ring. Flinging it in the air toward him, I hope it hits him in his thick head. He expertly catches it in his hand, irritating me with his flexibility. Stomping to my door, I unlock it, fingers shaking. A solid hand lands on my arm, and my skin prickles at the contact.

  “I’m sorry, Savy. It’s a fine place to stay. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. Today has just been … rough.” His hand is still on my arm, and he immediately drops it when I bring my eyes to his.

  “I can tell,” I say wryly. “I just love it here and get fired up when someone rips it apart.” Sighing, I rub at my own tired eyes. “Anyway, I stocked your fridge and cleaned it up a bit. No one has lived in it for some time, so it was dusty. Let me know if there’s anything you need.” I swing open my door and without a backward glance, I leave him alone.

  I meet Greyson and Theo at the diner. Preston may not be hungry for company, but I’m starving and not about to pass up an opportunity for some good ole country food. Despite my annoyance with the man, disappointment set in that he didn’t come.

  Mae’s Diner is lit up against the darkening sky. It’s an old-school diner dating back to the ‘70s with its red vinyl booths and checkered linoleum flooring. Music belts out of a jukebox in the back corner and old movie posters line the walls beside rusted license plates.

  The boys beat me here, seated in a corner booth big enough for five or more people. Theo’s bouncing around, and Grey is trying his best to calm him down. I chuckle, watching them as I make my way over.

  “Auntie Savy!” squeals Theo when I slide into the booth next to him.

  “Hi sweetie, how are you?” I squeeze him tight in a hug. At the tender age of six he’s so full of life and energy. I’m reminded of how it was helping my dad raise my brother and sisters after my mom died. Sassy little things they were wreaking havoc wherever we went. I became a pro at patching up skinned knees and mending hearts after a breakup.

  I remember when they were Theo’s age; I was nineteen, in my second year of college. I went to community college so I could stay at home and commute to school during the day and be home to help with my siblings at night. My social life lacked severely because of it. Brody was my social life. It’s probably why I clung to him so much and for so long. He was a lifeline, a chance to feel comfort from someone other than my younger siblings. I don’t regret it. I would have rather had my mom there, living and thriving, but I’m grateful I was there for them.

  Theo grabs my cheeks, bringing me back to the present. Squashing them together, he scrunches up his nose and asks, “Where did you go? You looked like you were asleep.”

  Removing his sticky hands from my face, I laugh. “Just thinking about my brother and sisters when they were your age. They were rascals.”

  “What’s a rascal?”

  “It means mischievous, like a little naughty, but not a bad naughty.”

  “Then I’m definitely a rascal.”

  Greyson laughs at his son, fluffing up his hair. The server walks up and we give her our order. Theo hunkers down with his tablet, so Grey and I have a moment to talk uninterrupted by the multitude of questions that kid inevitably has.

  He clears his throat. “How did it go with Preston?” Wariness brews in his baby blues.

  Unfolding my napkin and placing it in my lap, I face my friend. “He’s really upset being here. I found him taking his frustrations out on the track. What happened between you two? I’m your friend, Grey. I’d like to be Preston’s too. We’re now neighbors for Pete’s sake!”

  “I know. I owe you an explanation.” He softens his eyes as he looks down at his son. “But not in front of Theo. It’s not for his ears to hear right now.”

  I sigh, but nod for his benefit. He’s hiding something, and it’s only a matter of time before I find out or he fesses up.

  “Preston and I used to be extremely close. I did some things I’m not proud of growing up and it created a rift between us.” The wrinkles highlight the tension in his face on his forehead.

  “We all do stupid stuff as kids, Grey.”

  “Yeah, we do, but I hurt Preston in more ways than one. The last time we spoke, I had done something that just broke him. It was an accident, but he doesn’t see it that way. Hell, you probably won’t see it that way, and I’m ashamed, so I selfishly won’t tell you right away. Your friendship is really important, especially now.”

  Scenarios bulldoze through my mind, but I can’t get ahead of myself. He’ll tell me in time. He better, or I’ll hogtie him and force him. Our food arrives, so we mute this conversation for now.

  My stomach growls so loud I think the whole restaurant hears me. Theo pokes me in the belly. “Dang, Auntie Savy, I think you have a dinosaur in your stomach.”

  “I believe you’re right, Sir Theo. How shall I defeat him?” I say, using my best medieval voice.

  “By food, of course!” He holds up his fork like a sword and attempts to stick some mashed potatoes into my mouth. I giggle, eating the food off his utensil.

  “Ok, little man, let’s let her eat.”

  “Yes, dad.” He pouts for a second, then goes back to eating his food, wiggling a little in his seat.

  “I want Preston to be in his life. I just don’t know how to do this,” Grey blurts out.

  I pause with my fork
at my mouth. “Is this why he’s here? Your dad wanted him to know Theo?” I remember the visits from the late Mr. Lee and his lovely wife, Grace. They adored the little guy.

  “Sort of. Dad wanted us to work things out between us. He visited me one more time before he died to tell me of his plans.” Drawing in a breath, he continues, “He said if Preston didn’t come out here for a year, we both would lose all our inheritance. They would sell our companies to various business partners and charities.”

  Wow, that’s nuts.

  Greyson stirs his food around with his fork. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t screwed up, my dad wouldn’t have felt like he had to come out here so much and he wouldn’t have been on that plane.” Grief is etched clearly on his face. Unshed tears threaten to spill over, but he quickly swipes at his eyes.

  I understand grief very well. It haunts me every day. I was only ten when my mom passed. The doctors said her placenta ruptured with the twins and there was too much blood loss. He tried to save all three, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. My dad collapsed in the waiting room, howling like a wounded animal. He wore anguish on his sleeves for the longest time. He was a single dad with four children, two of them babies. I knew I had to step up, otherwise, we wouldn’t make it.

  I put my hand on Greyson’s shoulder and encourage him to look at me. “It’s not your fault. You could no more control that plane than you could the rain or the snow.”

  He nods, wiping his face with a clean napkin.

  Theo’s eyes squint. “You ok, dad?”

  “Yeah, buddy, I’m ok, I’m just a little sad about grandpa.”

  He reaches over and pats Greyson on his forearm. “I miss him too, dad. He was a good grandpa.”

  “He certainly was a good grandpa. Finish your food if you want some pie.” Theo’s eyes light up and he immediately shovels his potatoes in. He loves Mae’s pie. So do I buddy. Warm, pecan filling, wrapped up in a soft crust. So good. My mouth turns into a geyser on command.

  “Yes, Savy, you can have some pie too.”

  I swat Greyson with my napkin. As if I would not get any. No one left Mae’s without eating a slice.

  “Can I take some pie for mom when I see her next?” Theo asks.

  “Sure can, buddy, she’d like that.”

  “How is Turtle doing? I haven’t seen her in a bit, must be super busy with the fundraiser.”

  Grey bobs his head. “It takes a lot of her time, but she loves it, and we don’t mind, do we?”

  “Nope, mom is the coolest.” Theo supplies us with his opinion.

  My mind shifts gears and a question burns a hole through that gray matter. “So, you could lose your inheritance if you and Preston don’t work out? What would happen to SoS?” Worry trickles in my veins.

  “I have money that I’ve been saving, I’d be able to keep us afloat. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t leave you hanging.” Grey hoovers the rest of his food in his mouth, oblivious to the ketchup hanging on to the corner of his lip.

  It’s a strange concept to me, all that money. Growing up, we weren’t poor, but we weren’t stinking rich like the Lee brothers. You wouldn’t know it by looking at Grey. Right now, he’s in ripped jeans, dirty boots, and a stained college sweatshirt. A worn hat sits next to him in the booth and his hands bear the effects of hard work.

  Preston, in contrast, reeks of sophistication. Although he arrived at SoS dripping wet, the fine tailoring that goes into his shiny, expensive suits and squeaky leather shoes is proudly on display. He has an air of righteousness around him like he dines with royalty daily. I’m sure Montana will knock him down a peg or two. If not, Shelby sure will. Wait until he has to do actual work around here. It takes more than crunching numbers for this place to thrive.

  “I want you to help me.” Greyson breaks through my inner monologue.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, running my fingers through Theo’s hair. He leans into my hand, eyes still glued to his tablet.

  “With Preston. I think he’ll adjust better if it’s through you and not me initially.” He looks petrified to ask me. When have I ever turned down helping him, or anyone for that fact?

  “I already somewhat agreed to let the man live next door. What more do you want, dude?” I roll my eyes at him and take a drink of my water.

  “Just be around, a friendly face for him. I have to tread lightly with him. He’s like a time bomb. I mean, I haven’t been around him in years, but according to my parents, he’s hardened himself a lot. Not the brother I grew up with. You’re good with people, Savy, one reason I hired you.”

  I study the ceiling tiles. When had I become a martyr? I have a feeling agreeing to this is going to turn out badly for me. Rolling my head back to my friend, I poke him in the side, watching him squirm. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll fall for him?” I jest.

  “Yeah right.” He clamps his hands on Theo’s ears before his eyes alight with annoyance. “He’s seen more ass than those nasty monkeys at the zoo.”

  I scoff, “As if you didn’t chase a lot of tail in college, mister. I’ve seen the way our clients look at you. Are you sure your toilet seat has seen more booty than you?”

  The idea of lusting after someone that could snap his fingers and entrance any willing woman should bother me, but it doesn’t. It does, however, speak of a healthy sexual appetite. That alone, I should not be thinking about right now. I’ve been single way too long by choice and have read way too many romance novels. Which is why I shouldn’t agree to this.

  “Ok, I’ll help. How could I say no to you, bestie?”

  How can I say no? I’d never admit to Greyson how his brother can reduce me to a puddle with one withering look, and not because I’m intimidated. That man’s gaze could melt the polar ice caps. I’ve just invited trouble into my simple life.

  Pointing my finger, I jab it right into his beefy chest. “But you have to talk to him at some point. You can’t chicken out of facing him and whatever happened between you guys.”

  Grey rubs his chest, wincing. “I will. I know I have to. I just want to do it the right way.”

  Our pies finally arrive and all three of us inhale the home-cooked dessert, forgetting for a moment about that complex man.

  6

  PRESTON

  Slipping the key into the lock, I grunt at how heavy the wooden door is as it opens. My first thoughts are on Savannah. Savy. That woman unnerves me. For Greyson’s girlfriend, she’s pretty friendly with other men. A twinge of jealously swells, but I squash it down. I have no time for that. I have a year to get through and not complicate it with women or one woman, in particular, that isn’t even available. Jesus, she smells good, though. The scent of vanilla and mint with a hint of strawberry invades my nose every time I get close to her. Even right now—separated by only a wall—I can smell her.

  I’m uncomfortable, and Greyson’s tight clothing reminds me I’m the idiot who thought coming here to Montana was going to be the same as a day in Manhattan and didn’t pack accordingly. My things can’t get here fast enough. Grumbling, I peel the sticky shirt off my sweaty body and toss it on top of my bag.

  Stepping out of the narrow foyer into the front room, I survey my home for the next twelve months. The floors are genuine wood, not laminate, and roughened up to look rustic. A soft rug lies under a steel coffee table in front of an all-stone fireplace, and a blue couch with fluffy pillows is perched under the front window with a matching armchair. The decor is minimal, but fresh and modern with a hint of the wild west. I half expected a deer to be mounted on the wall, but I’m thankfully spared that visual.

  Padding past the front room and down a hall to the kitchen on my left, there’s a door on the right. I jiggle the knob and it’s locked. This must be the adjoining door to Savy’s house. Something about being that close to her should have made me wary, but it filled me with a weird sense of comfort. Annoyed, I give it one last glance before heading to the bathroom for a shower.

  Steam billows up around me and I beg the water
to wash away everything that’s tormenting me. My guts twist and I lean on the shower wall for support. Grey has a son. Theo. The only consolation is that it isn’t with her. He has a son, and I missed the first part of his life. He’s a stranger, carrying around family blood, but no genuine connection to me.

  Hanging my head, the water runs through my hair and down my body in rivulets. I soak up the heat because inside I’m stone cold. Watching the water spiral down the drain, I block out the hurt that makes my teeth grind and jaw tense.

  My thoughts wander to who his mom is. It’s not Savy, I asked that too and I’m annoyed at how relieved it makes me. What poor soul did Grey procreate with? If he and Savy are together, then Theo’s mom is not in the picture at all or they didn’t work out.

  Pissed off that I even care, I swipe the soap and lather it, scrubbing my skin raw as if this nightmare will melt away and swirl down the drain. Slightly impressed with the water pressure, I stay under the harsh stream until it turns to ice.

  I’m ready for bed, but too jittery to sleep. Heart jack hammering in my chest, I pick up the phone, hovering over her number before pressing call. After two rings, she picks up.

  “Preston, honey, are you ok?”

  “Mom,” my voice hardly above a whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me about Theo?”

  She pauses so long I have to make sure she’s still connected. Her voice is hesitant when she replies, “I’m sorry. So sorry I kept it—him, from you.”

  It’s a punch to the gut that my parents were in on it. They knew and didn’t tell me.

  “I feel like such a fool. Everyone knew but me.”

  “I was respecting your brother’s wishes. I know it doesn’t seem fair, and trust me, I’ve had many conversations with Grey over the years about keeping this from you, hiding my grandson. But he was adamant. I’m so sorry, Preston.” Her tone wavers, and I take in a deep breath.

  “How are you holding up?” I ask no more about Theo. I don’t want to know anymore right now. It’s been a day from hell, and I just want it to be over.