Denim Blues: Montana Heirs 1

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Denim Blues: Montana Heirs 1 Page 11

by Ashley Kay


  “What I don’t understand is why you felt you needed to take those in the first place, Preston? You’re one of our top students here. Why jeopardize what you have going on?” his brows furrow.

  Why can’t he see that this has Greyson written all over it. He has built up quite the rep here. Why wouldn’t he do something like this?

  “Because I’m tired of my brother’s popularity.” The lie doesn’t feel like a complete lie sliding off my tongue.

  “I suggest you forget about that and keep it straight and narrow, Lee. It’s your senior year, don’t mess this up. You have a real shot of getting into Columbia next year on your own, not because your family name would get you in. Take some pride in that. I can’t let this go though, so I’m giving you detention for a week. And you get benched for the next two baseball games.”

  Great. Coach is going to ream me this afternoon at practice.

  “Those test keys have been altered, so don’t think they’ll help anyone at this point.”

  I sigh. “Ok, I got it. May I go now?”

  “Yes, you may. Keep it clean, I don’t want to see you in here again.” He turns to his computer, and that’s my cue to leave.

  All my pent-up anger ripples up to the surface once I exit that office. I punch a locker next to me, not even feeling the pain radiate up my forearm. Screw it, I’m cutting the rest of my classes, I’m already in trouble, might as well make it for something I actually did.

  If I know Grey like I thought I did, he’s probably still at home. I can’t stay here any longer knowing that piece of shit impersonated me to steal fucking test answers.

  It’s quiet when I pry open the front door. Mom and dad are at work and the housekeepers are on their break. Good. I don’t want an audience. Hands in tight fists, I climb the stairs and hover outside Grey’s door. I take a quick step back and lunge forward to kick it in. It flies open and bounces off the opposite wall. Swinging back toward me, I stop it with my hands. I’m right, the shithead is still in bed, but not anymore.

  He sits straight up, hair sticking up on one side, a crazy look to his eyes. “What the hell, Preston!”

  “You fucking pretended to be me to steal test answers, you dick! What were you thinking? Oh right, you weren’t, you never do. I got detention and benched for two games because of you.” I’m fuming, ready to pummel him.

  “That’s all? Damn, P, you got off easy, just like Rory said you would.” He leans up, lounging against the headboard, arm behind his head, looking smug.

  “What does Rory have to do with this?”

  “She gave me the idea, so if you want to be mad, be mad at her. I told her you wouldn’t go for it, so she said just do it without you knowing. Said you’d pussy out like you do everything else if I approached you with the idea. Figured I’d ask forgiveness later instead of permission now.” He inspects his nails and picks at one.

  I can’t believe this was Rory’s idea. She wouldn’t do that to me, would she? Rory has been a part of our “gang” for so long. The idea of her doing this feels wrong. I care about her, maybe more than I let on. After that whole Ava/Grey thing, she came along and made me forget for a while. My gut twists. I thought I could handle Grey and his shit, but hearing that Rory suggested it in the first place really stabs the knife deeper.

  “Fuck you. I’m tired of being your fallback guy for your stupid pranks. You know nothing of loyalty. Being your brother and twin apparently doesn’t mean shit to you. For the longest time, you and your friends have used me at any opportunity you see fit.”

  “It’s too easy with you, P. You don’t fight back, you can be such a pussy sometimes.” He bends over the side of his bed and tosses my incriminating shirt at me. “Try being less of a wimp and more of a Lee. More me why don’t ya? Dad isn’t raising us to be just rule followers, how do you think he got to be where he is? He’s ruthless, and so am I. It’s your turn. Man up, bro.”

  His words turn my insides cold. I lose my anger in a puff of steam. So … this is how people view me. Expendable. Not worthy because I choose to look at things differently. Expected to be someone I’m not. Expected not to feel anything because that only leads to distraction and failure. Emotions lead to destruction. My heart shrivels into something resembling a dried-up grape. Foolish dreams of a world filled with hopes and aspirations worthy of pursuing are gone in a second. They have mapped my future since birth, and not of my own choosing. That’s been proven along the way, with my brother thwarting me at every corner, all but forcing me to see my place in the hierarchy. I turn away to leave, my hand hanging loosely on the handle.

  He must have read my face. “Where are you going? Come on, P. You know I’m just trying to help you here. I’m sorry I did that, it was lame, I get that now.”

  “No, you know what, I don’t want to hear it, Grey. It’s always the same old bullshit from you. You never grow up. I’m tired of this crap. I’m done.” I bark out a sarcastic laugh. “And here I thought you always had my back. Instead, you were just grooming me to be something I’m not just to fit in this family, in with your friends, masquerading it as loyalty.”

  “Preston. Seriously, wait, man.” He stumbles out of the bed and tries to reach for me, but I’m already gone, slamming the door in his face.

  8

  SAVANNAH

  I tossed and turned the night Preston was on my couch, aware of the man taking up residence in my home, just temporarily, yet edging into my brain near constantly. It’s ridiculous. I barely know him, but I can’t stop thinking about him. I’m a grown woman, not a love-sick teenager, but every day I fall back into a time where emotions ruled, and rationality flew the coop.

  It’s been three days since we almost kissed and even longer since the shower incident. I’m kicking myself for thinking I could just use his shower and get away with it. The way his eyes roamed over my body before he politely looked away. They burned me. Preston is intoxicating, his scent crisp and clean, citrusy, reminding me of home. I want to sink deep and hibernate in it. His voice is sinful with a city accent dripping with finesse, sex, and profanity. His eyes are wary, speaking of ghosts lurking in the depths, haunted by Christmas pasts. He’s hot and cold, two sides of one coin. He lets me in one small inch, only to slam the door shut in my face the second I get closer. Those pain meds, however, loosened his inhibitions, and he lowered his guard just a fraction. But it was enough to know how he feels about relationships.

  Is my attraction to him transparent? I mean, yes, I would like to meet someone and have a relationship, but that wasn’t my first thought when I met him. To be honest, my first impression of Preston went along the lines of a supreme asshole, but … there are many sides to a story. I’m also not usually bamboozled by a pretty face, but there’s more to Preston than how many notches are on his bedpost—trust me, I’m guessing it’s a lot. Men that look like him are not celibate. Heck, I sure don’t want to be, but Brody did a number on my self-esteem, and rolling in the hay with anyone makes me nervous. Knowing myself, I can easily catch feelings for Mr. Moody and it’s clear he doesn’t want that.

  My mom used to tell me I was always out to help everyone, no matter who they were and what they could do to me. Including hurting me, which is something Preston is most likely going to do. If our near kiss and attraction has said anything to me, it’s take it slow because he’s a tornado I won’t be able to outrun. He’ll lay carnage to my soul and possibly without even realizing it. Brody hurt me enough, even though I’m just as much to blame for our relationship unraveling. Hearing Preston say I’d make a great mom—that gutted me

  I shove those latent feelings down deep and head to my kitchen to make some food. Standing at the fridge, my stomach flips. I can’t think about food right now. I need to hear a cheery voice, so I pick up my phone to call Lynn.

  “Hey girl, you caught me at a good time. The lunch rush is over, how’s it going with Mr. Dark and Mysterious?”

  “I wish you were here, it’s a crap storm! Preston’s so moody and Gre
yson is well, Greyson, so I feel helpless to do anything that will not make it worse!” She has to hear the desperation in my voice.

  “Oh, girl. Damn. Well, is the scenery at least nice?” She’s amused at my dilemma.

  “Is all you ever think about boys and how hot they are?” I laugh as she giggles.

  “Uh, duh! You’re living my fantasy right now. Two hot men, one freaking next door to you, and the other a hot cowboy. It’s like a telenovela come to life,” she sighs loudly into the phone.

  “There’s no romance, Lynn, did you not hear me explain how terrible it is right now? I’m seriously stuck in the middle here and I have no clue what to do.”

  She hums. “You do what you do best, hun, you help. Sounds like these boys need your help to talk with each other about whatever it is.”

  I flip my phone to my other shoulder, scrubbing a coffee stain off the countertop. “Something happened a while ago and both of them seem pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing. Must be bad if Greyson hasn’t spilled the beans to me. That man can’t keep a secret. Remember when he ruined the surprise party I set up for Gypsy a few years ago? You could tell she tried to act so surprised, but his embarrassed face gave it all away.”

  “God yes, I remember. You were so mad you spent all that time planning it and she already knew.”

  “He’s since been banned from any party planning.”

  “Good. Maybe they both just need someone in their corner, someone like you that can be neutral, you’ve always been good at that. Like in school when you were a mediator or whatever it’s called when kids were arguing? Just be like that.”

  “Yeah, a mediator … but it’s going to be hard.”

  “Why?”

  “Because … I kind of like Preston, and I know I shouldn’t. I only just met him a few weeks ago, but there is something about him I can’t get out of my head. He’s the complete opposite of Greyson and he admitted he’s a no relationship guy but…” I whisper because I don’t know if he’s still home. These walls are paper thin. The last time someone stayed over, I told myself they were just watching porn, but the squeaking springs and wall banging said otherwise.

  A shriek rips through the phone. I probably shouldn’t have said that to her.

  “You have a crush on him! I so knew this would happen, or I wished it would happen. You have been so unhappy since Brody.”

  “I have not! I’ve been fine!” As if shouting into the phone will convince her otherwise.

  “You may have been fine, but you haven’t been happy. Don’t let what happened with Brody stop you from finding someone. It’s time you took care of yourself and not just everyone else.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t get close to anyone. At least not long-term. They’ll leave, they always do.”

  “Savannah Jo Martin. Hush. You just haven’t met the right one yet. The right one will love you no matter what.”

  I hear a voice shouting her name in the background. “Look, babe, I gotta go, but call me later. I want details.”

  “Lynn! There’s nothing to tell, nothing’s going on.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Love you, bye!” Click. She hangs up and I drop my phone on the counter, looking up at the ceiling.

  What was I doing? I need to focus on keeping the peace between the brothers, not inserting myself in there as a meal for one of them.

  My phone buzzes, and a text pops up. I don’t need this right now. Why is he texting me?

  Brody: Savy baby, how are you?

  Savy baby? Gross. I stick a finger in my throat and pretend to choke. I may have liked that in high school, but not now. Hunting down a protein bar, I leave it unanswered.

  Brody: Come on, don’t ignore me. I miss you.

  He won’t give up.

  Savy: I’m busy, what do you need?

  Brody: Sav, don’t be like that. Can I come see you? You know how I like to see you out there doing what you do best, kicking ass.

  Savy: No. I’m not sure why you’re even texting me. We haven’t talked in a while. Move on, please. I have.

  Brody: We’ll see about that.

  Savy: NO we will NOT.

  Brody: Come on, you should have forgiven me by now.

  Savy: WTF Brody, I’m blocking you right now if you don’t leave me alone.

  Why’s he being so slimy? I shudder. Silencing my phone, I slide it along the countertop. We’ve been divorced for several years and he thinks he can just contact me as if nothing happened? I avoid going back to Willow Creek so I don’t accidentally run into him.

  I might officially be done with men.

  Later that week, the yard is packed, people practicing in every lane, and a few set up for their training sessions. Lukas is with Mr. Grady, a regular, and Duncan further down with another client. This session flies by thankfully, and my shift is finally over. I’m packing up my gear when Lukas comes up beside me.

  “Hey, pretty lady, how ya doing today?” He flashes me his biggest smile. Lukas Hanes is handsome in a pretty boy way, with short blonde hair and pale blue peepers. I roll my eyes. Classic Lukas behavior, trying to get with all the ladies here at SoS.

  “I’m good, whatcha need? I have an errand to run and I need to go soon.”

  Last night I decided on badgering Preston into practicing some archery with me. I tell myself it’s because he needs to get out of that office, experience SoS, and learn a few things before the annual retreat comes up. Comprising of individual teams, SoS faculty and clients sign up for a three-day retreat in the Madison Mountain Range wilderness. Primitive camping to showcase our survivalist capabilities, while simultaneously feasting our eyes on the beautiful canyons, basins, and forests—equals the best time ever.

  Pretty Boy leans against one of the training stalls, failing to woo me with his baby blues. “You remember that convo we had last week about the budget? Can I add some more strings to the list? My stash is getting low.” He crosses his arms and flexes so I can see his veins.

  Smirking, I respond, “Sure thing. Anything else, lover boy? By the way, I saw you checking out Tia the other day. You leave her alone. She’s the best assistant we got, and I don’t need you trying to seduce her with your boyish charms.” I arch an eyebrow and cross my own arms.

  “Me? Seduce the ladies? Not sure who you’re talking about Savy, but it ain’t me.” He swipes a hand through his hair, showcasing his biceps.

  “Lukas!” I shake my head before grinning at his childish behavior. “It won’t work on me, and certainly won’t work on Tia. I’ll let you in on a secret. Well, it’s not actually a secret, anyone with eyeballs can see, but she bats for the other team, so you’re out of luck.”

  His mouth drops open. “No way. You’re serious?”

  “As mac ‘n’ cheese, bud. Have you not seen her with her girlfriend? She’s at every function we have.”

  Scratching his chin, he chews at a lip. “Ohhh, ok. Thought she was a close friend. Well, that makes sense now why she snubbed me. Oh well, on to the next.”

  “You’re a pig. Go back to work. I’ll remember to get those strings on the books.”

  “Thanks, you’re the best!” He leans in to kiss my cheek, but I shove my hand in his face.

  “Ew, go away!”

  Cackling, he walks away with that annoying swagger of his. He’s younger by five years and that doesn’t bother me, but he’s so immature and not my type at all. He begs to differ and believes he’s everyone’s type. Typical player. The only reason he’s still here is because he’s superb at archery and our clients love him.

  I take the stairs up to Preston’s new office, two at a time, my palms sweating. I saw him taking things in and out before, so it’s easy to find which room is his. Floor to ceiling glass panels line the sides of all the offices, offering everyone a view of the rock-climbing wall, some of the archery yard, and as a bonus, the gorgeous view of the mountains. I’m slightly jealous except that I’ve spent the last twenty-nine years of my life staring at the beautiful Montana l
andscapes, so I surmise it’s time to share.

  Preston’s office is the first one on the left. The door is open, the room void of any Armani-clad male with intense eyes and gigantic attitude. Wandering in, I swing my arms back and forth, hoping he’s just out for a bit. We haven‘t spoken since he left my house the morning after busting his ankle. I hope I didn’t go overboard with the note and coffee. I’m trying to be kind. He can’t hole himself in here for an entire year. I have a younger brother who can be just as grumpy. I can handle Preston. I hope so at least.

  Strolling around the office, I appraise the minimalistic decor. There’s a desk against one wall with a chair that looks extremely comfortable and loaded with papers and files. I laugh out loud. He must have searched high and low to find that chair to replace the cactus cowboy one propped up against the far wall. I really should tell him the chair is my discovery from a flea market … nah … he might not find it as funny.

  Closer to the outside wall is a deep burgundy red couch that’s plush and cozy—I have to sit down on it. My fingers brush over the velvety fabric and wonder what it would be like to be bent over that with a certain Mr. Manhattan behind me, his hands tangled in my hair, pulling it back to anchor himself … what the heck, no. Nope, not going to go there.

  Fanning myself, I bounce up and walk back to his desk. Before I can snoop any longer, soft footfalls enter the room. I spin around and Preston is standing in the doorway. His eyes are cast down at a file in his hands, black rim glasses sit atop his nose and a frown plays on his lips.

  Holy crap. He does look like Clark Kent in those things. He didn’t mention he actually wore glasses. I steady my breath; I’m close to hyperventilating. He makes me so nervous and at other times incensed with annoyance.

  His eyes drift from the file to me, stopping short. Removing his glasses, he squints at me. “Um, hi. Can I help you with something?” he looks surprised and maybe a bit irritated to see me.

 

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