The drive to town went fast. I parked by Grams’s SUV and went inside.
Skylar met me at the door. Her smile was tense. “How’s it going, Dawson?”
“Good. You?”
“Oh. You know.” She studied me. “How’s Bristol?”
“Good, thanks for asking.” Was this the turn we’d been hoping for? People understood the feud had died with us and would start accepting Bristol?
“Mm.” That was all she said as she led me around the pillars that blocked the entrance off from the rest of the place. I thought we’d go to the main dining area, but she led me back to the meeting room. What the hell?
The door to the special back room was propped open. Grams’s silver bob was easy to spot. My steps faltered. She wasn’t alone.
My teeth ground together harder the closer I got. The person with Grams was a young woman.
Skylar stood off to the side of the entrance. She looked from the young woman, who wasn’t dressed nearly as casually as I was, to me. “Have a good meal. Your server will be right in.”
Yeah. I could see what this looked like. Over a month ago, I’d chewed Skylar out for how she’d treated Bristol and now I was meeting with a woman close to my age who was dressed in a tight black cocktail dress with impressive cleavage on display. Her style wasn’t subtle. Not even Grams’s presence could make it look like this was a casual setup.
“Grams.” I went to the table, leaned down, and kissed her.
“Dawson.” Grams beamed, her gaze going to the young lady. “This is Mallory.”
“Mallory,” I greeted politely. Grams could be a bulldozer. I didn’t hold Mallory accountable for agreeing to whatever Grams had pitched. I turned to my grandmother. “You got a new assistant? Finally. After all this time.”
Grams’s gaze hardened. She didn’t suffer fools. Just herself. “Sit. We’ll talk. I already ordered.”
I yanked a chair out and sat, my arms crossed. My appetite had vanished as soon as I realized what Grams was up to. Was she going to throw women at me until my birthday? “I’m not really hungry. I have some work to finish up at home.”
“Dawson.” Her voice cracked like a whip, its purpose to force me into compliance.
I was usually the easygoing brother. Not this time. “Grams, I don’t know what you’re up to—”
“Then let me tell you.” Grams leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. She was in one of her power suits like usual. Mallory shifted, her gaze dropping to her water glass. There was a bottle of wine chilling on the table. What the hell for?
A server swept in with a smile and friendly chatter. She dropped off dinner rolls and the salads that came with whatever Grams had ordered. Her pace picked up as she left. Had she felt the frigid air in the room?
“Your birthday is soon,” Grams said as soon as we were alone again.
“I’m aware.”
“You need to get married.”
“No. I don’t.”
Grams’s eyes flared. Real concern shone in her gaze. “You can’t lose that money.”
I leaned closer to her. Mallory’s gaze was glued to me and Grams like she was watching a fistfight. “I don’t need the money.”
“Neither does Bristol.”
“Bullshit.”
Grams winced at my tone. “Dawson, don’t be crass in front of our guest.”
I smiled apologetically at Mallory. “I’m sorry you’re in this mess. Whatever Grams is offering you, I won’t agree to it.”
“I’m offering you a marriage,” said Grams.
I reared back, my horrified gaze connecting with Mallory’s. Her cheeks flamed, but she squared her shoulders. I hadn’t forgotten how much money was at stake, but I’d forgotten what a good influencer it was.
Grams put her hand on my arm. “Listen to me, Dawson. Mallory is willing to marry you, be as discreet as you want to be. Her NDA is ironclad. I will ruin her if she talks.” She ignored Mallory like the woman was a heifer being auctioned off. “Then, when you turn thirty, you two can part ways. Or you two can stay together. You never know. It might work out.”
“I’m seeing someone.”
Grams’s gaze lit, but the light went out a moment later. She’d figured out who I meant. “You don’t need to tell her.”
“What?” I shook my head. How . . . What . . . How cold was Grams? “I’m not getting married before I’m ready.”
“We both know there’s no good way to break the news to Bristol. You, and this family, look like an ass either way. We’ve betrayed her three times already. Think about it, Dawson. Marrying in secret, fulfilling the terms of your trust, then dissolving the marriage when it’s done is the only way.”
“And if Bristol found out?” I’d never do it. “Wouldn’t that be more of a betrayal? Oh, by the way, I didn’t want to tell you about this shitty thing my family did, so I got married to keep from hurting you?” I pushed away from the table and tipped my head toward Mallory. “I’m sorry your time was wasted.”
“I mean, my feelings should be hurt.” Mallory’s tone was breathless, but her eyes shone under the fluorescent lights. “But that’s really sweet. You’re, like, really dedicated to your girlfriend.”
My stomach turned. Mallory couldn’t be more than twenty-two. Probably had a lot of college debt and big dreams. And Grams had used her youthful innocence and promised her fifty million dollars to marry me.
“Dawson.” There was the crack again. Grams expected obedience.
I rose. “No. I’m not . . . This isn’t . . . you can’t interfere with my life.”
“I can and I will. I’ve always looked out for you boys. Did I bake you cherry pies or bounce you on my knee or make trinkets for you to clutter your shelves with? No. I made sure you all were set up for life. Life, Dawson. For all of you and your children, so you wouldn’t have to work like me and your grandfather, like your dad. I trusted Sarah to take care of it when I gifted her the money. I had no idea that my hard work was at risk.” Grams adjusted her suit coat and evaluated me, her face more drawn than I’d ever witnessed. “Fine. Go. But listen to me, kiddo. You go ahead and tell her. Test this relationship of yours. If she’s anything like the rest of her family was, she’ll ditch you in two seconds. You make one mistake and a Cartwright doesn’t forget. They’ll trash your name all over town.”
“I’m not you and DB. She’s not Danny and she’s not her grandparents.”
“Fine. Then tell her.” My mouth tightened and she nodded. She rose and crossed to me. She gripped both of my shoulders. “That money can change lives and I’m going to make damn sure it doesn’t change hers for the better.”
The threat in her voice gave me shivers. Bristol was younger than me, and Grams wanted to see her suffer? Was Grams taking her anger at Mama out on Bristol?
It didn’t make sense. None of this did. I couldn’t be around Grams for one more minute. “Have a safe drive back to Billings.” I spun on my heel and started for the door.
“If you don’t tell her, I will.”
I stopped. My hands clenched. Why did everyone assume that after the trust was revealed, Bristol would break up with me? Was it so hard to believe that we’d be strong enough to get through it? “I want you to stay away from her. She doesn’t deserve the way you treat her.”
“She already cost me my daughter. She’s not getting the money that was meant for you.”
I shook my head. My opinion of Grams before this had been that she was Grams. She was who she was. But this was a new low. “Grow up, Grams.” And I walked out.
I passed Skylar by the front door. I must’ve looked like a funnel cloud on the loose. She hugged a menu to her chest and didn’t speak to me as I passed. But her slight nod spoke volumes.
I slammed out the door and jumped in my pickup. I wasn’t thinking about where to go. There were only two places on this earth I would want to go. To my place, or Bristol’s. Since Bristol was probably still working, my place wasn’t the answer.
The large
door to her shop was open. Since Tucker had helped me fix it, she’d been in the shop a lot. The haying tractor was inside. She must be working on it.
I parked by her pickup. She poked her head out of the open shop doors. Her quick smile died as she saw my expression.
I hopped out. The wind ruffled my neatly combed hair.
Bristol wiped her hands off on a rag she’d shoved in her back pocket. “Please tell me that your shitty mood after meeting with your grandma isn’t about me.”
“It’s her problem,” I said. I went straight for her. Like I had to wipe off the taint of an almost blind date by touching the person I wanted to be with. I wrapped my hands around her waist and buried my nose in her hair.
Faint scents of horse, sunshine, and tractor exhaust mingled together with her fruity shampoo. It was perfect.
“She tried setting me up. She even brought another woman along.”
Bristol jerked back, her gaze raking my expression. “Seriously? She hates me that much?”
I’d told her most of it. Why couldn’t I tell her the rest?
I couldn’t tell her that my old-enough-to-know-better-than-all-of-us grams blamed her for Mama’s death. We’d all been hurting for so long, I wasn’t going to let Grams drag me and my brothers backward. And she wasn’t fucking with Bristol’s feelings.
“I don’t know what she’s thinking. I only know that I told her off and came straight to you.”
“You told Emilia Boyd off?”
“Yeah.” The feeling inside me wasn’t righteousness, or pride, or satisfaction. I’d feel better if I could just tell Grams that I wasn’t taking that money. I doubt Dad and my brothers would bat more than an eye after the talk we’d had. Grams was a different story. She wasn’t one to let it go and walk away. She’d screwed over her best friends, Bristol’s grandparents. She’d almost run the oil company into the ground, but she’d held on to enough shares to keep Dad and Aiden toiling away. She’d thrown money at a woman to get her to marry me, and she’d done the same with Beck before he’d met Eva. She would’ve done the same to Xander, but he’d made himself unreachable. Aside from that, Bristol would feel betrayed—by me, not by Mama.
“I’m sorry you had to do that.” Bristol feathered her hands along my hair.
“You’re worth it.” Grams’s threat stayed with me. I crushed my lips to Bristol’s. I needed her to know how I felt. How much she meant to me.
My birthday was coming too damn quick.
Chapter 10
Bristol
His kiss was demanding, yet desperate. The argument with his grandmother had upset him. He might not know why, but I did.
Everyone liked Dawson.
That was probably why we’d mixed like oil and water until we’d come together like peanut butter and jelly. He hadn’t been able to stand that I didn’t like him when everyone else in King’s Creek kissed the ground he walked on.
Being on the outs with his grandma was worse. She was supposed to love him unconditionally, and maybe she did—it’d be hard to tell with Emilia Boyd, but she wasn’t entranced by his charm. And he’d had to lose his temper with her.
I met the strokes of his tongue with my own. It’d been a long day, and I’d been thinking about exactly what I wanted to do after my shower tonight. I’d planned to clean up and head to my hot neighbor’s and let him work all the knots out of my tense body.
He excelled at getting me to relax. And making me laugh.
I hadn’t known how little humor there’d been in my life until we’d quit being oil and water. Yet, I didn’t have to tolerate other people to know that no one could get me to laugh like Dawson.
I wasn’t good with words. He’d come to mean a lot to me in the last couple of months. My feelings for him terrified me. I wouldn’t speak them. I couldn’t. Not yet.
But I could show him. I could take away his tension, the way he’d done for me so many times.
I tugged his shirt from his pants and dipped my fingers under his waistband. He groaned against my mouth. My back hit the frame of the shop, but I didn’t want to go inside. The warmth of the day lingered behind the sun that was setting on the horizon. Oranges and reds filled the sky.
I flicked open his fly. My fingers brushed over the broad tip of his erection. I wrapped my hand around his hot length and worked him free of his underwear and pants without stripping him down.
I broke the kiss, gazing into his hooded eyes, and lowered myself to my knees.
“Bristol, you don’t have to . . .” He looked around, but we were alone. The cattle were in the pastures. Bucket was off grazing and Daisy was napping in the barn.
No one but Tucker and Kiernan ever stopped by and they were done for the day.
We were blissfully alone.
“Let me do this for you.” I pumped his dick, loving how hard he’d gotten since I’d touched him. He pulsed under my hand.
I held his gaze as I licked across the tip. The shudder that traveled through his body vibrated into my hand.
I never would’ve guessed that one day, I would hold Dawson King captive with nothing but the tip of my tongue. From caustic comments to licking him senseless. That was the trajectory of our relationship.
My eyelids drifted shut as I sucked him into my mouth, as deep as I could tolerate. I fisted the base of his shaft and his groan was more ragged than before.
“Fuck, Bristol.”
I hadn’t done this for him yet. I didn’t ignore this part of his body. He had a nice dick. Long and thick. Ropey with veins. Its bronzed color was a darker shade than even his forearms. I’d felt every glorious inch. But I hadn’t put my mouth on him yet.
I pulled back, slicking my tongue down his length as I went. He buried his hands in my hair. My ponytail hindered him, but he remained gentle. His fingers would tense, but as I stroked up and down, he didn’t push the pace faster.
This blow job proved that sex with Dawson didn’t compare to anything else in my past. After high school and getting treated like I was either a tick on some unseen scoreboard or a bad call that was soon forgotten, I hadn’t met anyone I’d wanted to do this for.
The few times I had, I couldn’t escape the cringe afterward. The reflexive way my body drew into itself, waiting for the fallout. And it hadn’t been much different than high school; only the feeling that they were somehow owed oral sex was new.
The way Dawson thrust his hips like he couldn’t help himself. The reverent way he touched my hair. The awe that resonated in his moans. It all made me feel like he treasured this act between us. Just like when he went down on me, he made me feel precious. Like he didn’t take for granted that I was opening myself up to him.
I wanted to make him feel the same, and it was easy. His reactions heightened the pleasure I received giving him pleasure. A cycle that kept on giving.
I cupped his ball sack with my other hand, lightly massaging them.
“Bristol. Fuck.” Those two words seemed to be all he could get out.
I worked him faster. Satin-covered steel slid between my lips. He pulsed in my mouth and his hips jerked with each touch of my tongue.
He wasn’t going to last long.
Taking a page from his book, I toyed with him. Backing off on the speed and pressure, I snuck a glance at him.
The hard planes of his face were shadowed. A hunk of his hair hung over his forehead and if I didn’t know better, his expression looked like he was in pain. Exquisite agony.
I hummed against him and his eyelids fluttered. He caught me watching him. “You’re killing me, woman.”
I would’ve smiled, but my mouth was stretched wide. Retribution gleamed in his eyes. He was going to pay me back tenfold, and it didn’t matter that he did this to me every time he touched me.
Pulling back, I let him pop out of my mouth, and I blew against his wet skin.
He shivered and his sides heaved. “God, that’s just mean.”
“I hope so.” I drew him back into my mouth. The shock of my hot mou
th on his cooling, sensitive skin sent another tremor through his strong body.
“Never mind. That’s worse,” he grunted and his head dropped back. “In all the best ways.”
I worked him faster, then slowed, just like he had the first time he’d gone down on me. But I’d been on my back. If I kept it up too much longer, he’d topple and I was in no position to catch him.
Increasing the suction and speeding up my pace, I brought him to the brink. His balls tightened in my hand and he went rigid.
“Bristol.” It was a warning, but I didn’t pull away. For once, I didn’t have to decide what the hell I was going to do when it came to this point. I sucked him in and he came with a long groan, his body jerking.
I swallowed his hot release and eased up on the pressure I was applying until he was done. His hands balled in my hair, but he didn’t pull and tug. As soon as he tumbled down from his peak, he sagged, his hands brushing down my face.
I released him and rose, not bothering to dust off my knees. I wiped off my mouth as he tucked himself into his pants. He left his fly open and flipped his shirt over it.
He wrapped me in his arms and planted a kiss on my lips. I stiffened with my hands on his shoulders, unsure of how to react. Kissing him after he was done with me was no big deal, but this role reversal wasn’t something I’d experienced.
“Thank you,” he murmured against my lips.
“You’re welcome?”
He chuckled and buried his face in my neck. His embrace tightened and I hugged him back. “I just want to take you home and stay in bed all night.”
“I was finishing up when you arrived.”
He straightened but didn’t let me go. “Have you eaten yet?”
“I had a bite.” A can of ravioli—cold. Supper of champs.
“Was it prepared by Chef Boyardee?”
I gave him a playful glare. “Food snob.”
“I haven’t eaten yet, but I can make something for both of us. What do you need done in here? I can help you wrap up.”
“I was going to change the oil in the 8320, but I need to run to town for a new filter. And some lube for the baler.”
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