Denim Blues: Montana Heirs 1

by Ashley Kay

  I stare over across the coffee table directly into her hazy eyes. “I know how you feel, more than you could ever know.”

  Our gazes sear into each other for a few seconds, savoring the silence and connection brewing below the surface.

  Abruptly, she breaks through the stillness by sucking in a breath. “It’s your turn.”

  “For what? I already fell through your step.”

  “Hah, hah. To tell me about yourself. It’s your turn. I talked about sad little ole me, now tell me about you.”

  Oh. I don’t want to do that, but then again, I do. These pain meds are taking effect, and I’m afraid I’ll spill my messy guts. I yawn, stretching out my arm across the back of the couch. “Not much to tell. Grew up way too privileged, elite schools, anything I ever wanted I could have.” I shrug under the covers, realizing I resemble a burrito. A snicker escapes my lips. I think these meds are making me loopy, but at least I can’t feel my ankle anymore. I don’t think I can feel any part of my body at this point.

  I glance up at Savy, my hooded lids droopy, and she has a goofy grin on her face. God, she’s so pretty. I want to reach out and burrow my nose deep into her neck with her silky hair sliding against my face as I … what the hell am I doing? Snap out of it, Preston. I physically shake my head to loosen the lusty screws banging around in there.

  “Excellent stuff, huh? I need more about your life. I could have read any of that online.”

  “Please don’t read anything online about me and believe it. It’s all garbage.”

  “Tell me something that isn’t garbage.”

  What hasn’t been garbage in my life? I don’t have the energy right now to be mad at all the crap that’s happened, and I don’t want to offer anything that could tarnish me in her eyes, so I play it safe.

  “My parents were wonderful. They were great together. The epitome of a perfect relationship. He was a hard man, but to my mom, he was much softer.” My heart twists at the thought of how my mom is going to have to do things without him. Another reason not to get close to anyone. They always leave.

  “I’m sorry about your dad’s passing. I know the toll it takes on a family.” Her eyes are glassy and she swipes at her face. “But this isn’t about me, it’s about you.”

  My eyes roam the curve of her face. Her edges are getting fuzzy as the medicine does its job and stops all feeling to my body except for my mouth when I word vomit all over the claustrophobic room. “I don’t do relationships, Savy. Haven’t in a long time. It’s too messy and my past is littered with one screwup after another so you should probably stay away from me.” I can’t tell her about Greyson and that night. It still cuts too deep.

  She smiles softly, nodding like she gets it. I don’t understand why I said that and why I assume she wants anything to do with me. The attraction is palpable, but that only lasts so long. That I can handle. Long-term relationships force you to open yourself up to being vulnerable and prime for slaughtering. I prefer to remain whole, if that’s even possible. I feel pretty sliced up being here.

  My eyes grow heavier. The overwhelming need to close them and sleep is powerful. I want to keep talking and divert attention away from what I just told her, but my brain isn’t working anymore. If she responded, I didn’t hear it. I soon feel a warm hand on my forehead brushing my hair back and a soothing voice like a balm murmur something I can’t make out.

  Before the darkness takes over, I whisper, “You’ll be the best mom one day, Savy. Your mother would be proud of you.”

  As my eyes close for the last time, I swear a look of despair crosses her beautiful face.

  I wake with a jerk, blinking twice to clear the cobwebs from my brain. A white, fluffy blanket falls to my waist, and I curse as white-hot pain travels up from my ankle. The medically induced fog lifts, and I remember what happened yesterday. I slept here all night. On her couch. Pausing, I glance around but don’t see or hear her; she must be at work. A handwritten note on the coffee table next to a thermos catches my eye.

  Preston,

  I thought you’d enjoy this coffee … no grounds; I promise. Take it easy today. I let Grey know you wouldn’t be in for a few days to heal up. Let me know if you need anything.

  324-256-7865

  -Savy

  Smiling, I pick up the thermos and inhale deeply the nutty aroma of coffee. I take a tentative sip, it’s the perfect temperature and I sigh, leaning back on the sofa. I’ve got to get myself a new coffee pot immediately. Another day without this nectar from the gods, and I’ll go crazy.

  My thoughts cling to last night. I imprinted those few hours into my mind. I’ve never had such a sexy doctor fix me up. Unless you count my general practitioner from when I was a kid. She was curvy and had the longest, shiniest brown hair. I had to give myself a pep talk before every visit, so I didn’t make a colossal mistake and accidentally get a hard-on.

  Shit. We almost kissed. I groan out loud at the memory. She dropped right into my lap like fate dumped her there. Those soulful eyes and soft skin trigger a sharp inhale. I really shouldn’t want to know the curve of her smile on mine. It would be too addicting.

  Tossing the blanket aside, I use the armrest to stand and put some pressure on my ankle. It’s still a little painful, but not as bad as yesterday. My shoes and socks are in a bag by the door. I scoop them up and lurch toward the handle, pausing.

  Savy taking care of me, her selfless nature—it pulls at what shred of sanity I have left. She should have just left me on the porch to take care of my damn ankle, especially after how much of a dick I’ve been toward her. I don’t deserve her kindness, yet I want to soak in it.

  Pull yourself together, Preston. You aren’t here to get close to anyone. Those pain meds had to be laced with peyote or some other shit. I’m turning into a poet. Maybe Shelby’s talk is getting to me.

  I bang my head on the door trim when I remember what else I did last night. Shared a rule I ingrained in me for the past seven years—no relationships. Great, for all I know, she thinks I just want to bang her, no strings attached. I can’t deny that bending her over that kitchen island and taking her from behind hasn’t crossed my mind, but I was raised to be a gentleman. I won’t take from someone what they don’t want to give.

  Three hours later I’m still on my couch with my leg propped up, thoroughly icing it, and enjoying the silence. Luckily, I can work from here, so not seeing Grey across the hall puts me in a good mood. Plus, this couch is way more comfortable than a lawn chair.

  Scrolling through numbers for work, I pause after some calculations are not adding up. I figure the numbers again and encounter the same discrepancy.

  Shit, this isn’t good. Greyson won’t like this, and because I have to tell him, it will be the icing on the proverbial cake.

  Why exactly do I give a fuck? He’s the one who flubbed it up. I’m just cleaning up his messes like I used to do as a kid. Stretching, I close my eyes and blow out a heavy breath. Even as an adult, he can’t get his shit together. Why did you leave this place in his charge, dad?. Grey belongs in the barn, not running it. I fish my phone out, sending out a text to him.

  Preston: Found a discrepancy you made in the company budget files. I fixed it for you. You’re welcome.

  Greyson: What was it? Could I have handled it?

  Preston: Numbers weren’t matched correctly in the budget database. Last person to access it was you. How many more messes of yours do I need to clean up?

  Including having a kid with god knows who … poor woman was probably scarred and ran away.

  He doesn’t reply. I know I’m being petty and vindictive, but I don’t care.

  Ten minutes later, a pounding sounds on my door. “Open up, Preston!” Greyson bellows from the other side.

  Oh great. I upset the bear, and now he’s coming for me.

  “Let yourself in. I’m crippled thanks to you not fixing the damn step out there!”

  The front door flies open and Grey, heavy with anger, gets close to
my face, pointing a finger at me. “Why do you have to be an asshole about everything?” he flings his hands up in the air. “Yes, I fucked up and I fuck up a lot, but I’m trying here. Stop making it worse.”

  Slightly amused at his temper, I retort. “Are we talking about work or your personal life here, brother dearest?” I’m having too much fun aggravating him. “Because we both know I could make things a hell of a lot worse than merely pointing out the minor issue with the budget.”

  Greyson runs his hands through his wild hair and growls. He’s one second away from chopping me up and taking me to the mountains, leaving bits of me strewn about as wolf bait.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say. Thanks for highlighting my faults as if I haven’t been doing that for the last several years? Jesus. Do you think I want you here anymore than you want to be here? My inheritance is at stake too. To be honest, I don’t even care about that, but it’s what dad wanted. Can’t we try to get along? There are people out there counting on us to run this place smoothly and that won’t happen if all you do is point out my mistakes or blow up at me.”

  I struggle to stand—I can’t do this sitting down. Putting one hand on the arm of the couch, I lift myself up. Greyson steps forward to help but backs up after I scowl.

  “Get along? We aren’t kids anymore, Greyson. You have a son I didn’t know about. You fucked me over in college. These things aren’t something you just get over!” I spit back in his face, my eyes bugging out and fists clenched, itching for a fight.

  Greyson closes his eyes, and when he opens them, they’re full of pain. “It was an accident,” he whispers.

  My hands shake as I grip the back of the chair to steady myself. “How is something like that an accident, Greyson? No way, I don’t buy it. You’ve always taken what was mine.”

  “I wish you’d believe me.” Greyson hangs his head like a sad puppy that got looked over at the pet store for the glossy coated one next to him.

  “You lied so many times, you think I’m going to believe you about that too? You stole a life from me.”

  Anguish is written all over his face and I only know this because I feel the same. Grabbing my chest, I rub my hand over my heart. It’s racing, half with pain from my ankle and the other half reliving that moment in history where I vowed to never speak to my brother again. My future was written, then torn out of a notebook like a badly written manuscript, left to die a slow, painful death on the editing room floor.

  After a minute of tense silence except for our ragged breathing, Greyson speaks, his voice cracking. “I want you to meet him, really meet him. Theo deserves to know his family.”

  I inhale, digging deep for some compassion. I can’t fault the kid for his dad’s actions, but it’s hard to be in the same room with him.

  Another thought flutters behind my eyes. “Does Savy know?”

  His head whips toward me, fear tangible in the air.

  “She doesn’t, does she? I know you two aren’t together, so you can cut it out with that shit. She told me you guys were just friends. Some friend you are, leaving out something important like that, don’t you think?”

  He looks terrified. Up close, his eyes are red, cheeks lacking color and more wrinkles than a thirty-year-old should have. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

  “I’m not here to tarnish your friendship, Grey, no matter how much joy that would bring me.” I refuse to tell him it’s because I like her. He’s already too much in my business.

  I turn my back to Greyson, clutching the back of the armchair. “Just go, ok? Before I change my mind and spill all your dirty little secrets.” I harden my voice. “Pay closer attention to your numbers. You don’t want to be the reason this company goes to shit.” I stagger toward the kitchen without looking back at him. He mumbles a few curses and then leaves, slamming the door shut behind him. A picture on the wall swings—dangerously close to falling.

  A battlefield of emotions war with each other in me. The anger I’ve held on to for so long threatens to tear me apart. I want to rage and fight those other softer feelings with every beat of my heart. I itch to arrange a flight back to Manhattan to wake up from this nightmare.

  But … there’s a tiny part of me that doesn’t want to leave just yet. The ragged edges of my soul are tired of cutting those around me at every corner. I want something different for myself, but I don’t know what it is or how to get it.

  Theo’s face flashes in my mind. The little boy with a mischievous zest for life and those Lee dimples. Seeing him with Greyson, you can tell he’s adored and very much loved.

  Wincing, I grip the kitchen counter. That could have been me with my son or daughter, had my past gone the way it was supposed to.

  Is this what I want? Loneliness that’s bred out of my actions? Pushing everyone away seems to be my motto. I’m not good. I think the scars run too deep for anyone to see past the charred bits. For Savy or Greyson to see past them. For me to see past them. I’m better off alone, like a lone wolf, destined to lick my wounds in seclusion.

  PRESTON

  HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR YEAR

  “Where is it?” I toss out all my shirts from my drawers, but I can’t find my favorite band t-shirt I got at a concert a few years ago. It’s the softest material and the best shirt to throw on when you don’t feel like putting much effort into how you look. Which is pretty much every day. Dumping out my laundry basket, I scowl when I don’t see it there either. Sparing a glance at my watch, I give up looking. I’m running late for school. Throwing on my second favorite tee, I mentally shout; it’s not the same.

  Grey’s door is cracked open and I peek in on my way downstairs. He’s still asleep. Shaking my head at his prone body, I don’t even know why he bothers to show up at all, he’s always late. I pause at the top of the stairs, holding on to the railing.

  Should I wake him up? Nope. I swing around the wood banister and take the stairs two at a time. He’s on his own. Our relationship hasn’t been the same for the last couple of years. There’s a chasm there that won’t close.

  First period flies by and then I get to second period, English. Hot Mrs. Thomason has her back to the class writing on the whiteboard, presenting all us horny teenagers a peek at her ass in her tight, white pants. I’m not about to go after my teacher, but a few of the guys are not of the same opinion.

  Mrs. Thomason turns and scans her eyes around the room until they land on me. “Preston, glad you’re here, but you’re wanted down at the office. Take your things, I don’t know how long it’s going to take.”

  “Uh, ok…” Confused and aware of eyes on me, I gather my things and leave the classroom. As far as I know, there isn’t anything that important to take me out of class. What if something happened to my parents?

  My hands are clammy by the time I make it to the front office. The secretary pops her head up from behind her computer as I push open the glass doors.

  “Hi, uh, I was told to come down here?” I shift my eyes around, noticing I’m the only student in here.

  “Yes, Preston Lee, correct? Just have a seat and Principal Carr will be with you shortly.” She goes back to her computer without giving me another glance. The plastic office chair is uncomfortable and the arms dig into my thighs. Bouncing my leg up and down does nothing to ease my nerves.

  Finally, after what feels like an hour, Principal Carr’s door opens and he steps out, smoothing down his checkered tie. “Right this way, Preston,” he inclines his head toward his office.

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “I don’t know, are you?” He glances back at me with an odd look on his face.

  I’m not sure what to make of all this. I can’t figure it out. I’m pretty strait-laced. I don’t do things to get into trouble. Grey makes fun of me all the time about it. My friends give me shit because I rarely take part in their idiotic pranks. My mom says it’s because I’m mature for my age. I guess … I just don’t like to play stupid games.

  “Take a seat.” He ro
unds his desk, holding his tie to his chest, as he sits on a plush leather chair, the seat squeaking from the pressure. His office is regal, just like this entire school. Dark mahogany cabinets line the back wall and pictures of diplomas toting the many accolades Principal Carr has achieved hang in tidy lines.

  “Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Lee?” he asks, steepling his fingers, acting all serious using my last name.

  “To be honest, I really don’t.” My hands clutch the chair so tight my knuckles turn white.

  “We had a teacher come to us stating that some of her test answer keys were stolen last night after school.”

  What does that have to do with me? My stomach rolls. This doesn’t feel right. “I know nothing about that, Mr. Carr.” I put my hands up in an innocent gesture.

  “I was afraid you’d say that. Unfortunately, when I pulled the camera feeds from outside that specific classroom, this is what I saw.” He turns his computer monitor toward me so I can see the bright screen and what’s playing on it. It’s me, or what looks like me, slinking into a classroom. A few minutes later you see “me” leave the classroom with papers in “my” hands. Mr. Carr faces the monitor back toward him.

  “What do you have to say about what you just saw?” He waits for me to answer, eyes accusatory and disappointed. Me too, Mr. Carr, because that’s not me. It also explains where my missing t-shirt went. I’m going to kill Grey.

  “Mr. Carr, I swear to you that isn’t me.” I ramble, saying things like stolen t-shirts, stupid brothers, mistaken identities, but he isn’t buying it. My heart jack hammers in my chest. The room turns a delightful shade of fury red.

  “Are you telling me that’s Greyson and not you on this video? Are you insulting my intelligence, son?” his lips curl and his face tells me I can’t get out of this. He won’t believe me, even though I haven’t given him any reason not to trust me. I’m a good kid.