King's Ransom (Oil Kings Book 2)

by Marie Johnston

  Grams approached me on the other side. Even socializing, she was in a power suit. I gave her a polite smile, but inside my cells iced over. “Mrs. Boyd.”

  “Now, Eva. I asked you to call me Grams. Congratulations on the engagement.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Awfully good timing.” She smiled like she was a cat pinning a mouse and leaned closer. “Well done. Gentry bought the whole thing.”

  “Thank you?”

  She shrugged. “But if you two really have a thing, then…welcome to the family.” She sauntered away to work the crowd.

  Welcome to the family. Did I want to be part of her family? It’d been me and Adam for so long, but even if I married for just a year, Grams and Beckett’s dad and brothers would become family during that time. My family. Because they might never know about Adam.

  Beckett and Dawson had slipped into talking cattle and even Xander had gotten involved. Minerals and feeds and breeding schedules and it was all interesting for the first few minutes until I got hopelessly lost. And here I’d thought cows were just cows.

  Across the room, at Aiden and Kate’s table, a woman I’d briefly been introduced to as having gone to school with one or all of them slid next to Aiden on the other side of Kate. He politely finished tapping out something on his phone and chatted with her. Poor Kate had to angle her body around Aiden to be involved. She was too good for him.

  I took a drink of my beer to keep from staring at the three’s-a-crowd effect. Beckett was treating me better than Aiden treated his wife, but would it stay that way? Kate didn’t know she was married for the inheritance. This ruse was as much for her benefit as Gentry’s. If our lie got out, it could hurt two people now, not just his dad.

  I scanned the room full of good ol’ boys talking up Gentry and classmates of the brothers milling about. Some had spouses, others were acting like they never crossed paths in this small town.

  On the way here we’d passed the Cartwrights’ ranch and it had been an eye-opener. Ratty fences, worn barns, diminutive cattle. But the most startling part was the house—a trailer home that looked like it was better off with plywood over the windows and a condemned sign.

  True, thieves used what they stole or fenced it quickly. And smart thieves avoided looking like they’d come into a sudden cash flow, something I knew all too well. You didn’t steal a diamond necklace and then wear it the next day, or sell it and strut around in a new watch. Bristol’s pickup had been sitting outside and she wasn’t cruising through town in a truck even half as flashy as the high school bro-mobile Beckett had.

  If they were the den of thieves Beckett accused them of being, then they were the wiliest crooks I’d ever seen. Yet somehow I doubted there was much extra flowing the Cartwrights’ way.

  The venom Beckett aimed toward Bristol bothered me. I was more like this mysterious Bristol than I was like him.

  My throat was suddenly tight and I couldn’t stomach the last tepid swallow in my bottle.

  I nudged Beckett to get his attention. “Want another?”

  “I can go with—”

  “I have to use the restroom too.” I hadn’t meant to interrupt him, but I needed space to breathe. After last night, we’d crept back into the house and gone our separate ways to sleep. He’d been up and gone early in the morning and I’d only caught that glimpse of him and his brothers leaving.

  “Nothing for me.”

  His arm slipped off of me and I wound my way out of the room. The din of conversation dulled with the closing of the door. I skimmed the perimeter of the bar and grill to get to the restrooms. People stared, some discreetly, others blatantly. The small-town stare, Beckett called it. I breathed a sigh of relief when I hit the darkened hallway. If anyone knew me at all, it was as Beckett’s fiancée. Tonight was the night we’d shared our good news.

  I felt like a fraud in so many ways. I was still way more put together than usual. My look was as fake as the lady Aiden was talking to.

  And call it silly, but once I’d roamed outside during my lunch break, I’d spotted a few barn cats slinking between buildings and gotten homesick. How was Kitty doing? The food I’d given her was probably gone. Adam might feel up to feeding her, but when I called him earlier, he was despondent and claimed I had woken him from a nap.

  Did you eat?

  Eva, you’re not my mother.

  I had wanted to scream, Then take care of yourself!

  But I’d just hung up. I had to get home soon. Once we got home, would things between Beckett and I change? This thing between us was just blooming. When we landed in Denver, would it wilt or blossom?

  I was about to push into the restroom when someone came out.

  “Oh, excuse me.” I made to go around.

  “You’re Beckett’s fiancée.” It wasn’t a question, the rich voice direct.

  A woman about my age towered over me, studying me. Waves of light auburn hair fell to her shoulders. She looked like she was a brush ’n’ go girl. Her green eyes were shrewd and she wore what the guys had worn earlier—worn jeans, a button-up emerald shirt with her sleeves rolled up, and I didn’t have to look down to know there was a set of dusty cowboy boots on her feet.

  There was nothing soft about this woman. Her gaze was hard and her face was angular. She was like a cut diamond without the sparkle. Not one stitch of makeup, but it wouldn’t suit her. She was gorgeous.

  My first thought was that she needed more laugh lines. I didn’t get the impression she laughed nearly enough in life. But who was I to talk?

  Oh, she’d asked me a question. “I am. Did you go to school with him?” I’d been introduced to so many people that it became a default question.

  She shrugged. “Sort of. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” She arched an auburn brow. “Bristol. Cartwright.”

  I didn’t sense hostility. More like a resigned get it over with. “Am I going to burst into flames talking to you?”

  The corner of her mouth twitched. “The Kings will do that to me if they learn I’m talking to you.”

  I cocked my head, only more curious about her. “Why are you then?”

  “Might as well get it over with or you might accidentally be nice to me and then get in trouble.”

  “I can talk to who I want to.”

  She gave me an are you sure about that look. “Right. I won’t be waiting by the phone for a sleepover invite. But congrats.”

  A shadow fell over us. “Bristol, what the hell are you doing harassing Eva?” Easygoing Dawson had morphed into an uptight asshole. Bristol’s jaw tightened and I swear she winced at his volume. I recalled her history and guessed her dad probably bellowed around the house.

  She whipped around to face him, but she also tensed as if preparing herself. “Dawson King, do you control the use of public areas too?”

  “We wouldn’t want you to pass on fleas.”

  She winced. “It was lice. Get your insults straight if you’re going to bring up shit from when I was eight.” She pushed past Dawson. Beckett was behind him, shooting Bristol another glare.

  Dawson turned toward me and opened his mouth. I held my hand up. “If I was in danger, I’d thank you for your interference, but Bristol hasn’t done anything to me and I was enjoying talking to her.”

  “You don’t know her,” Dawson shot back.

  “Do you?” My volume went up. “I hope so if you’re going to tease her about getting lice as a kid. Not all of us grew up with money.” I gave him a pointed look. “Or parents who weren’t addicts, or loaded.”

  He clenched his jaw, the muscles jumping on either side.

  Beckett came to my side. “What Dawson’s trying to say—”

  “He hates her, I get it. But he doesn’t get to dictate who I talk to—or run them off.” I crossed my arms.

  Beckett’s expression mirrored Dawson’s. “Her family is responsible for our mother’s death.”

  “The meth-head was,” I said quietly. “And she was just a kid too. You blame her fami
ly as guilty by association. Maybe they were just desperate for a hired hand and couldn’t afford to be picky.”

  “He could’ve passed on a tweaker,” Dawson said as if that made it clear. I disagreed. I could spot an alcoholic after working in the bar, but I didn’t have firsthand knowledge of what a meth addict looked or acted like. “He could’ve looked for someone else. And Bristol might’ve been ten like me, but she sure as shit didn’t lose sleep over Mama’s death. She refused a ride to the funeral. Neither one of them showed.”

  I stared at Dawson. He was upset because she’d refused a ride with a family who hated hers? He had no idea how the other half lived. “They say money doesn’t buy happiness, but it does buy opportunities. Have you ever had to decide between a one-dollar carton of spaghetti or a buck for a bottle of no-brand shampoo? Because I have. Do I eat for a couple of days, or do I wash my body for a couple of months because shampoo is a better hair and body wash than soap?”

  Dawson looked away, his jaw working. I looked at Beckett. He didn’t avoid my gaze but he was studying me much like I had studied Bristol.

  “I didn’t remember the lice thing until she said it,” Dawson said quietly. “I wasn’t intending to insult her…like that anyway. And she harasses everyone. Why would I think you were different?”

  “Do they harass her first?”

  Dawson shrugged and gave me a lazy grin. “Well, that’d be fifty-fifty. She doesn’t hold her opinion in.”

  Beckett put his hand on my shoulder. “Are we all right here?”

  I nodded. “Did you come looking for me?”

  “One of my classmates said they saw Bristol lurking, and since she tried to ingratiate herself into Kate’s and Kendall’s lives at one time, we were worried about you.”

  “Yes, she was so terrifying.” My sarcasm wasn’t lost on them. This Cartwright thing was a war, but I’d won a battle. “I’m sure Kendall took two whole minutes to befriend her.”

  “She’d probably put Bristol to work spying on Dad’s diet. If he so much as sniffs a cheese stick, she’s going to know.”

  I smiled, but my heart still pounded. They’d handled my outburst, but it didn’t change a thing. They hated Bristol because they’d been taught to. I didn’t know Bristol, but the way they treated her? I was seeing my future.

  Chapter 16

  Beckett

  The next two days passed too quickly. I was going to have to get back to Denver. To my empty office. To all my online contacts. Back to interacting only with my driver and the flight crew.

  I brushed off my dusty jeans and led Black Gold to the barn. Between the four of us boys and the two guys Dawson had on payroll, we’d gotten the cattle moved in record time with little incident. The bite in the air promised snow flurries once the sun fell.

  Finished with Black Gold, I put her back out to pasture and wandered to the house. Dawson was going over instructions with his hired hands. Aiden had already cleaned up and left with Kate. Dad and Kendall were staying for another week, but Xander was flying out in the morning.

  He met me on the porch. “You two going to,” he threw up air quotes, “ ‘watch the stars’ again?”

  I was afraid my brothers would think our nightly excursions were…well, exactly what they were. Fucking Eva in the front seat, backseat, standing up, I didn’t care. I’d had to restock condoms and at least we had the fiancée thing to hide behind instead of everyone thinking I was sleeping with my assistant. Which I was. I also wasn’t sleeping on the couch anymore, but the house was a no-sex zone.

  “She’s a city girl. She wanted to see the stars.” I guess I lied when it came to Eva.

  “Right. She’s also not fake. How’s this engagement thing working?”

  “We’ll see when we get home I guess. I have three and a half months before I have to say I do.”

  Xander whistled. “A four-month courtship. That’s a pretty quick turnaround. You two are going to have to be ready to marry for real by then.”

  I could be ready now. Waking up to her mussed pixie hair was becoming one of the favorite parts of my day. Then there was the way her body clenched around mine. I’d never been so connected with someone. “It’ll be a conversation, that’s for sure. What about you? You’re turning twenty-eight next. A year and two days after my birthday.”

  Xander’s expression went from interested to shut down. “Can you imagine if I don’t marry? It’d be just another epic failure in Dad’s book.”

  “He doesn’t think you’re a failure.” At Xander’s lifted brow, I clarified, “Yet.”

  “Exactly. But I don’t know, man. Aiden didn’t have to look hard. Neither did you. At least Eva’s good people if you two go your separate ways. Who am I going to meet?”

  “You’re rich and you travel the world. Use that.”

  “I’m not rich,” he muttered and I wanted to hear more. Like all of us, he’d gotten a healthy stipend during college. “I work my way through traveling the world. Who am I going to win over when they have to squat in a latrine to do their business, then come out to the field to work for room and board?”

  “She’s out there. Still writing?”

  Xander was an unusual journalist. He wrote for fun on serious topics like the hurricane devastation in Puerto Rico and the ever-shrinking glaciers. “Yes, but I think I’m going to need a pen name. King slams a few doors shut when I’m reporting on the environment.”

  “A publication doesn’t want a piece on wind energy from an oil heir?”

  “Pretty much. Or I get the ‘We’re interested in serious queries only’ line.”

  “Ouch.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll use a different name, no worries. But anyway, I wanted to say that I’m really happy for you and Eva.”

  “Seems a little premature.” I was happy too. The way she’d stood up to Dawson—and me—at the party only made me respect her more.

  “I’ve never seen you this way with a girl.”

  “Because she’s not a girl. We haven’t really hung out enough as adults for you to know what I’m like with my girlfriends.” Still, I couldn’t help but compare. I lived for kissing her graceful neck and eliciting those breathy sighs. I loved how she still called me Beckett when everyone else called me Beck. When I woke up before her, I watched her, though not long enough to be creepy. But the way she slept on her side, her face buried in the pillows and the blankets up to her ears, was adorable and so at odds with the sexy vixen that could ride me until my eyes crossed.

  “Beck.” Xander’s flat expression said he was reading my mind. “You remember when you met me in LA during one of my layovers? You and that Insta-whatever star?”

  “Sahara. She modeled lingerie.”

  “On social media. Anyway, she whined the whole time about all the meat in the restaurant we met at. You said there was a vegan store next door and we’d still be in the restaurant when she got back.”

  It’d kind of been a dick move, but Sahara’s incessant critiques of the food had annoyed me. “So, what’s your point? Eva likes steak.”

  “She’s special. Just sayin’, I’d rather have an Eva as part of the family than a Sahara. Don’t fuck it up.”

  “Why do you think I’d be the one to fuck it up?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Lesson number one, it’s always our fault.”

  Xander’s words rang in my ears as I walked into the house. It was so early in my relationship. We hadn’t hit any rough patches, unless I counted the hallway at the party. But like Xander had said, she was right. Didn’t mean I was extending an invitation to Bristol to be friends, but I’d quit being openly hostile. She’d had a shit life growing up and none of us doubted it.

  I stomped the grit off my boots but kept them on. The door hung open a few inches. Eva was behind the desk, her hair slicked off her face. She hadn’t worn that style since we’d been here, but seeing her comfortable in my family home satisfied something in me.

  She glanced up from the laptop at the sound of my boots scuffing th
e floor. “Hey. Done so early?”

  My brothers and I had put in a few late nights. Getting the Cartwrights’ cattle cut from our herd had been tricky. They didn’t want to be parted, but me and Dawson had herded them back, then Dawson had called Bristol and hounded her to “fix the damn fence or you’re gonna owe us for the tonnage they eat.” He’d been tamer than usual, but from the volume of Bristol’s voice coming through the phone, the conversation hadn’t gone well.

  “The cattle are moved.” I shuffled into the office, swung the door shut behind me, and plopped in the chair across from the desk. The heavy weight of my limbs wasn’t unpleasant. As much as I liked technology and had the mind for it, I missed labor that required more than a mouse click. “We’ll be flying out in the morning. Unless you have a pressing reason to go back tonight.”

  Her expression flickered. Did she need to get back to her brother? “Tomorrow morning is fine. You have a lot of meetings scheduled when we get back, but I lined them up starting next week.”

  “Good plan.” I didn’t want to go back to meetings. I wanted to wake up to her for a few more mornings. Would she be open to sleeping over when we got back to Denver?

  Our relationship had started here. What was Denver going to be like? Going back to my quiet house? My quiet office? This house wasn’t always quiet, but I was content here and it wasn’t just because of Eva. But the fact that I was still in a good place with Eva here wasn’t insignificant.

  I’d never been content with a girlfriend. My mind never stopped blazing through my to-do list, evaluating programs and their viability in the market, who I needed to call to make it happen, and trying not to get lost in the simmering rage left behind after Mama’s death.

  That last thought gave me pause. I didn’t think about Mama most days. Yet when I was in the middle of a deal and found out the other party was begging for a second chance after destroying their own life and others, I had no mercy. But that rage had died down. Two of the scrapbooks she’d made me were packed in my suitcase.

  “I hate to bring this up, but Dr. Herrera called.” Eva glanced at the tablet in front of her. “She’s getting a ton of buzz about her app and she’s had some amazing offers—her words, not mine—and she wants to give you one more chance.”