What Happens at the Ranch...

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What Happens at the Ranch... Page 6

by Christy Jeffries


  “Mom!” Tessa raised her voice to drown out her mother’s ongoing concerns then gave a pointed look toward the four agents, who had been discreet up until this point. Though, when all of this was over, who knew what any of them would say in their tell-all memoirs?

  “Don’t shout, Tessa. It’ll only make you more frustrated and then you won’t be able to get the words out at all.” Her mom’s heavy diamond ring, the one she hadn’t dared remove in over thirty years, threatened to tangle in Tessa’s hair. Her mother’s anxiety tended to escalate a situation rather than defuse it. It was a stark reminder that Sherilee was the worrier of the family and Roper had been the soother. Tessa winced when the thick gold band inadvertently thunked against her throbbing temple.

  “Oh no. Your headaches are coming back, too.”

  “They are now,” Tessa muttered.

  “Leave her be, Sher.” Freckles stepped up beside Sherilee and put an arm around her waist, leading the distraught woman away from the kitchen before anything else was said in front of Grayson and the other agents.

  But the damage was already done. The words her mother had spoken aloud only echoed the unspoken fears Tessa had fought to squelch last night. Could the recent trauma of losing her father possibly cause a relapse? Could all of those symptoms she’d once overcome after her TBI be coming back to haunt her? While her forehead pulsed with crowded thoughts, the space under Tessa’s rib cage felt hollow and she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself. God forbid the ever-astute Agent Grayson think Tessa was weak or needed some sort of emotional support. Again.

  But Tessa was already exposed. And her mom was right. She should probably consult with a neurologist or someone and get her stress under control before she returned to DC. Before she returned to the lights and cameras in the studio and made another mess of herself on live television.

  * * *

  Grayson wasn’t any clearer during the official family briefing in the conference room than he’d been inside the Kings’ kitchen earlier that morning. He knew powerful people liked to keep their secrets, but this family was on a whole other level. So what if the world found out that Tessa King had panic attacks or stuttered once in a while?

  And Mitchell Junior wasn’t the first eighteen-year-old to get into a little trouble with the law. He certainly wouldn’t be the last.

  “It seems like it would be a lot less trouble to just give the press their story, then let them lose interest,” Grayson suggested to the family members sitting around the briefing room table. “They always do.”

  “Darlin’, this must be your first assignment with the King family.” Freckles patted his shoulder sympathetically, as though he was inexperienced or too naïve to understand. “They don’t like to admit defeat. It’s not in their blood. Hell, Rider still hasn’t signed our divorce papers and we’ve been separated for over fifteen years now.”

  “It’s true,” Rider said, pushing out his barrel chest. “Grandma Millie and my Marine Corps drill instructors most definitely did not train me to surrender. You were Special Forces like me, Wyatt. You know we fight to the last breath.”

  Tessa’s eyebrows lifted at the mention of Grayson’s prior military career, which he hadn’t shared with the other civilians in this room. Apparently, though, this family had their own recon team working for them. They probably knew just as much about him as he did about them. For the hundredth time today, Grayson clenched his jaw while wishing he had joined the DEA. Or the FDA. Or any other agency that didn’t have to deal with the Kings and their inability to stay on task.

  “Let’s not talk about last breaths, under the circumstances.” Mrs. King sniffed, returning to her role as grieving widow now that there were an additional fifteen members of the protective division team in the room with them.

  Grayson had to admit, he’d enjoyed the verbal sparring between the King matriarch and her two daughters earlier in the kitchen. Some of his team members had referred to Sherilee King as a diamond-studded battle-ax. Clearly, they hadn’t met the younger King females. Anyone who went against the combined forces of Finn and Tessa King had to be sharp and strong enough to withstand the verbal blows.

  His father, a former football coach, had always said iron sharpens iron. “To be the best, you have to practice against the best.” When it came to verbal assaults, the Kings sure as hell kept each other sharp.

  That brought Grayson back to his original train of thought. “My point was that if you hold a press conference and answer their questions, they’ll hopefully lose interest and everyone can move on. The King name is certainly strong enough to withstand the fallout from the scandals.”

  “First of all...” Tessa finally spoke up. “We already have a public relations team working on how to spin this. Second of all, it’s not a scandal. At least the one involving me and you isn’t a scandal. Yet. But if they find out that you’re still on the property and they think we’re in close contact, that’s only going to fuel their speculation.”

  “I agree,” Grayson was quick to reply. After all, he didn’t want the woman—or anyone—thinking that he hoped to stick around any longer than he had to. “Unfortunately, as SAIC Simon already pointed out, removing me from the assignment would be tantamount to admitting that I—that we—did something wrong. Or had something to hide. And clearly that’s not the case.”

  It was important to reiterate that he’d followed procedure and hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d overheard the earlier conversation about Tessa’s history of panic attacks and her stuttering. It was the second time he’d witnessed the way she’d tried to steer certain conversations away from herself. Obviously, there was something more she wanted to hide. Grayson just didn’t want her using him as a shield, hiding whatever secret she had behind him. Or behind his career.

  “I’m with Agent Wyatt,” Duke King said, leaning back in his leather chair. The second child of the King family was assigned the code name “Peacekeeper,” and after watching Tessa’s brother calmly interacting with every member of the family during yesterday’s gathering, the name was well-earned. “If you make this into a big deal, everyone else will make it a big deal.”

  “I seem to remember Dad saying the same when you wanted to have a small wedding a few years back. But even he couldn’t stop the paparazzi from trying to crash his perfect son’s reception.”

  “Perfect is your word, not mine.” Duke shrugged. From what Grayson had read about the man in the briefing file, he was a high school football legend, graduated top of his class from Annapolis before flying F/A-18s for the Navy. Hard to beat that kind of resume. Finn pretended to flick a piece of mud off her boot and onto his crisply starched uniform. He glanced at his younger sister. “Knock it off, Runt.”

  “Make me,” Finn said then actually sent a clump of dried dirt flying toward the target of Duke’s creased pants.

  Duke’s husband, Tom, whose similar service khakis had the Medical Corps insignia on the left collar, laughed. “Direct hit.”

  “Real mature, you two,” Duke countered as though he were too important to stoop to their teasing. When Finn turned her head, though, Duke got his revenge by flipping the brim of her Dorsey’s Tractor Supply ball cap upward and causing the sweat-stained hat to fall on the ground. Apparently, even a peacemaker had his limits before he’d seek retribution. Not that Grayson could blame Duke for putting an annoying little sister in her place.

  Grayson had used to play fight with Maddie the same way before she’d gotten sick. Wait, this was play fighting, right? Grayson asked himself when Finn used the fallen cap to smack her brother’s biceps. Duke dodged just in time, though, and Finn’s blow landed on Tom instead.

  Marcus King let himself into the room and Grayson hoped the sheriff was prepared to get between his squabbling siblings. Or at least steer this sinking ship back on course. Then he heard Sherilee King snort and Grayson braced himself for yet another rogue wave to knock them
off course.

  “So glad you could take a break from your busy schedule of locking up innocent children and join us,” Mrs. King said.

  “Mom, MJ is eighteen,” Marcus sighed. “He’s not a child anymore, and he certainly isn’t innocent.”

  “That’s not what his lawyer says.” Mrs. King crossed her arms over her chest.

  Marcus’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t actually hire her as his attorney, did you, Mom?”

  There were several loud intakes of breath around the conference table and even Duke and Finn paused from their play wrestling to pay attention.

  Was there another family scandal in the works? Stay in your lane, Grayson, he told his throbbing head. Mitchell Junior wasn’t part of his assignment. Echo Team could deal with this during the second part of the briefing. He looked at his watch.

  Agent Lopez apparently didn’t share Grayson’s desire to get out of the conference room anytime today and asked, “Who is ‘her’?”

  “Marcus’s ex-girlfriend,” Freckles said in a stage whisper that everyone in the room heard. “She was in town for the funeral. Her mother is—”

  “Hey, Aunt Freckles,” Tessa interrupted. “I’m sure the agents are getting very bored with all our family’s drama. They need to get back to...whatever it is they need to do.”

  Yep. This family had plenty of secrets. And Grayson truly didn’t want to be a part of any of it. He cleared his throat, resisting the urge to tell Tessa that “whatever it is they need to do” involved protecting her from overeager photographers and anyone else who might sneak onto their property to get a juicy story. Or do something worse.

  Grayson tapped a key on his laptop and brought up the next slide on the overhead screen. “So let’s go over the perimeter weaknesses and the procedures for entering and exiting the property at the check-in stations.”

  Finn groaned and Tessa sank lower into her seat as Grayson spoke.

  He tried to keep from looking in Tessa’s direction as he discussed the terrain and the fence lines and potential entry points, but it was difficult to not see her out of the corner of his eye. Difficult to not think about how she’d felt in his arms yesterday.

  When Grayson finished his presentation, he moved to the back of the room and chugged an entire bottle of water. Mentally, he felt as though he’d just hiked fifty clicks through the mountains of Afghanistan. Actually, he’d done exactly that during one of his military deployments and it had been a heck of a lot easier back then. And filled with considerably fewer land mines.

  As long as he could shield Tessa from any more unexpected media coverage, though, the whole Agent Steamy story would die down and his mission would be a success. That by itself wouldn’t be a challenge. The problem: the only way Grayson could protect her was by staying close to her.

  Chapter Five

  As Lopez went over her list of Twin Kings Ranch employees and authorized guests, Grayson finally allowed his eyes to roam Tessa’s profile.

  She was even better looking without all that makeup on, but her mouth was tenser than it had been yesterday. Her blond hair was pulled into a loose ponytail and she was wearing a soft gray sweater and a pair of black pants, which looked both expensive and tight in all the right places.

  When he’d seen her in the kitchen earlier, she’d been wearing a loose pair of men’s-style pajamas. He’d been thinking about what had been underneath that plaid flannel for the past three hours. Just like he was currently wondering what she was hiding underneath that cool façade of hers. Sure, she was maintaining her perfect composure now, but yesterday he’d seen her go from completely vulnerable to a profanity-laced tirade and back to vulnerable.

  It was that tirade, though, that kept Grayson from hopping on the first jet out of Wyoming. He was a professional and he’d done his job. If the video of her yelling at him in the staging tent was leaked, there was a chance he would find himself in front of a disciplinary board. And Grayson didn’t do disciplinary boards.

  Hell, he’d never so much as gotten a tardy slip in elementary school. And that was saying something considering his dad’s job at the local high school started early and his mom was usually busy with his sister and wasn’t always available to get him to class. He’d had to learn at a young age to manage his own needs and make as little work for his parents as possible. Then after his dad passed away, he’d not only had to take care of himself, he’d had to help his mom with his sister.

  Speaking of Maddie, he wanted to call her back before he went on duty tonight. He checked his watch again.

  After another ten minutes with Marcus and Sherilee King exchanging pointed glares at each other across the table—and Duke and Finn physically poking at one another under the table—Lopez finally asked the question Grayson had been waiting for. “So who else will be staying on the ranch?”

  “Me!” Finn raised her hand. “In fact, I rarely leave.”

  “And it shows,” Duke added. “You could use a little more socialization.”

  “Children,” Mrs. King said to the two grown adults scowling at each other playfully. At least, Grayson hoped they were being playful. There was no telling with this bunch.

  Duke straightened his already straight tie. “Tom has three surgeries scheduled for tomorrow at Walter Reed. Originally, we were going to leave for the airport after the briefing, but now I’m thinking someone should stay and be the voice of reason in this family. Plus, my commander called me unexpectedly this morning and gave me leave for the rest of the week.”

  “He better have,” Mrs. King mumbled, then cleared her throat. “I mean, what a nice surprise. I don’t think I could get through this without you, Duke.”

  “Kiss up,” Finn accused, but Grayson noted the younger woman now had her arm linked tightly through her brother’s instead of shoving him away. Almost as though she wasn’t ready for him to leave either.

  Lopez, like a teacher trying to get her rowdy class’s attention, tapped the two names she’d written on the whiteboard. “Anyone else?”

  “I’ll be staying on the ranch, obviously,” Mrs. King said. She made eye contact with Marcus and added, “So will Mitchell Junior, once the judge releases him.”

  “I live closer to town,” Marcus told Lopez, wisely ignoring his mother’s prediction. “But my twins usually come back here after school when I’m working. I pick the boys up around six in the evening and we sometimes stay for dinner. Unless my mom decides we’re not welcome anymore.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Marcus. I’d never turn away my own family. Unlike some of my children, one of whom I went through twenty-six agonizing hours of labor with to only have them stab me—”

  “What about Dahlia King?” Lopez interrupted, looking down at her binder. “Will she be here at all?”

  “Dia,” Finn corrected. Grayson remembered the info packet he’d received on the King family. Finn and Dahlia were twins, with Dahlia being older by three whole minutes and regarded as somewhat of the family’s black sheep. Or lone wolf, depending on who one asked. “She lives above Big Millie’s Saloon in town. Her daughter, Amelia, also comes here after school and for riding lessons, so she’ll be in and out.”

  Sherilee sighed at the mention of the saloon and Grayson realized Dahlia’s chosen profession was another bone of contention within the King ranks.

  But there was one family member who hadn’t responded to Lopez yet.

  “And you?” Grayson asked, looking at Tessa. “Did you decide if you’re staying or going back to DC?”

  “I—I’ll maybe stay for another day. As long as Duke is here to run interference for me.”

  Grayson glanced at Duke in time to see him hold up two fingers as if he was pledging the Boy Scout oath.

  “Put her down for at least a week,” Sherilee told Lopez.

  “I’m not staying for a whole week, Mom.” Tessa rubbed at the cute little crevice above her no
se. “I have a job.”

  “Your father died, Contessa. I’m sure your audience will understand if you don’t hop right back on the air. I’ll speak to your producer—”

  “No, Mom. He threatened to change his number after the last time you called him. Besides, it’s not just my job. I also have a life.”

  “Then have Congressman Townsend come visit here. Put him on the list,” her mother told Lopez.

  “No,” Tessa said again. “Don’t put him on the list.”

  “Did you break up?” Rider and Freckles asked in unison. The elderly couple had definitely perked up at the possibility.

  “No. Not exactly.” Tessa’s eyes flicked toward Grayson, but when he refused to look away, she focused on a spot past Grayson’s head. “We can talk about this later.”

  So there was trouble in paradise. His gut had been right. At least he still had his instincts going for him, even if his sanity was slowly slipping.

  “Keep him on the list,” Sherilee King repeated to Lopez before turning to Tessa. “It’ll look better for the PR team if he visits and your relationship seems solid.”

  Lopez shrugged. “We can always take him off if things don’t work out.”

  “Think of it as a hotel reservation,” Duke suggested. “Except no charge for a cancellation fee.”

  “Do you think he’s going to dump you after this?” Finn asked, clearly ignoring her sister’s request to talk about the subject privately. Or maybe in spite of it.

  “Never,” Marcus replied for Tessa. “Congressman Smooth loves the limelight and the family connection too much.”

  “Speaking of family connection...” Mrs. King shot another sharp look at Marcus before returning her eagle eyes to Tessa. “I’d appreciate having as many of my children here in Wyoming for as long as possible. After all, the next time they’ll all be under the same roof will probably be at my own funeral.”

 

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