King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3)

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King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3) Page 11

by Marie Johnston


  I nodded to Chief. Like it or not, he was my father-in-law and he’d done nothing but respect me. My last name might be the only reason why, but it was enough for tonight. Whatever I was doing to get my trust was between me and Savvy.

  I wove through the crowd, nodding greetings at random guests as I sought a snack table, or guest book, or something to keep me occupied for a few minutes so I didn’t have to talk to anyone.

  “What’d he do?”

  I turned as Savvy caught up with me in the far corner of the room. A table held elegantly wrapped gifts, gift bags that somehow matched the aesthetic of the room, and a basket of cards.

  It hit me. This was my wedding reception. Complete strangers thought we were married for real and wanted to send us forward on the best footing possible. If I hadn’t been humble before, I was now.

  What had Lex done? Nothing more than knowing more about me than my wife did.

  I swept my gaze over Savvy. She carried herself like a queen. Around Chief and her mother, she was meek and uncertain. But when he wasn’t nearby she stood straighter with her shoulders back and her chin lifted.

  “Did Chief say something?” she asked.

  “It wasn’t your father. He was cordial.”

  “Right. Of course. With you he would be.” She peered at me. “Then what’s wrong? You looked like you’d mow down anyone that got in your path.”

  I took a deep breath, my gaze straying to the group of accomplished men I’d just stood with. My secret wouldn’t be a shameful one if I didn’t come from the family I did. If I hadn’t lied to my dad and then avoided the truth around others like Savvy’s entire social circle.

  “I dropped out of college.”

  She frowned, her plump lower lip sucking between her teeth. “Okay?”

  “I’m guessing Lex wants to use the information to humiliate me in front of Chief’s crowd.”

  Crossing her arms, she kicked a hip out. “Good luck with that. Chief won’t stand for it.”

  No, he wasn’t that kind of man. And since he was trying to land King Oil’s account, Lex could lose his damn job over a little pride.

  Yeah, I’d be pissed too if I thought I was about to be handed someone like Savvy on a silver platter of prestige and opportunity, only to lose her at the last moment. But she was a person who could decide for herself whom she wanted to marry. It wasn’t my fault Lex hadn’t even tried to win her over.

  “It’s not just that.” Partygoers glanced at us, but as if sensing the deep conversation we were about to have, they kept their distance, offering us a little privacy. “Lex must’ve also seen how little money I have. Money that’s left over from my college days. Money that Dad gave each of us to go to school.”

  “It won’t matter to Chief. You’re a King.”

  I hadn’t told anyone what I’d done, and if I said that much, I had to tell her the rest. “My dad doesn’t know.”

  Her mouth formed an ‘o’.

  “I know,” I continued. “Shitty thing not to tell your dad. But, Aiden has a financial degree and helps run King Oil. Beckett went to Princeton, started his own business, and is worth millions in his own right. Dawson was given the ranch, but even he finished college and uses what he learned to make the ranch more successful than it ever was.”

  Then there was me. I couldn’t wait another three years to get out of Montana, so I’d cashed out and traveled. Using the excuse I’d pay Dad back when I hit it big was growing weaker each year. So, I just never went home.

  I’d taken all my college money and the cash meant for living expenses for four years and blown it. Not frivolously, but I’d gone through nearly all of it. I had no job and no home to show for it. I had a wife who thought I’d married her in order to get more family money that I’d done nothing to earn.

  “My family’s extremely accomplished.” And rich. Each one of them. My brothers would never need the trust or to live off Dad. “I just didn’t tell them.”

  Her smile was small. “And then kept not telling them.”

  “Gets worse each year that goes by.” A huge weight rolled off my chest by admitting that. It was a pittance compared to what was still sitting on it after years of lying, but telling someone what I was most ashamed of brought relief I hadn’t expected. “He thinks I graduated and everything.”

  Her eyes widened. And there it was. Not finishing college when I was given money and opportunity was one thing. Pretending that I had attended for four years and graduated was another, more pathetic, more pathological thing.

  She cocked her head, no doubt trying to understand a preposterous scenario. “He thinks . . . Didn’t he visit? Didn’t he ask about the ceremony?”

  “I brushed all his questions off. We weren’t close and Dad, during those years, wasn’t an invested dad.” The pre-Kendall years had been ugly. Dad had been a playboy, traveling the world for King Oil and living the high life. My brothers and I had been grown and on our own, officially severing him from any responsibility, and he’d used his newfound freedom to never be in Montana. He’d done the same thing when Mama had died. Cut loose. Stopped caring about what anyone thought, including his own kids.

  Reconciling the current Gentry King with the dad of my teen years and early adulthood wasn’t easy. His marriage with Kendall was only a few months longer than Beckett and Eva’s. But by all accounts Dad was a changed man.

  Didn’t mean he’d like finding out that he’d been lied to and essentially stolen from for almost a decade by one of his sons. His least favorite son especially.

  Her gaze strayed to the left and I followed. Her mother was heading for us, her determined stare telling me everything I needed to know. We’d been on our own too long. Time to mingle and show everyone what a happy, well-adjusted couple we were and put to rest any accurate rumors that we’d just met a week ago and gotten married within hours of our first words to each other.

  “I’d like to say you should talk to him and it’ll all be okay, but I don’t know your dad, and I can see why this money is personally important to you.”

  “It’s not just the money.” Mrs. Abbot was nearly on us. “It’s my mom’s last gift to us. Something she created with us in mind. I don’t want to be the one to lose it when she created the trust to make sure we were okay. I can’t steal from my dad and then lose the trust money on top of it.”

  Too much sentiment was wrapped up in that money. I hadn’t planned on fighting to keep it, but now that it was attainable, I couldn’t just let it go.

  More importantly, after confiding in Savvy and having her listen to me, I couldn’t let her go either.

  Chapter 9

  Savvy

  I hovered between asleep and awake, those peaceful few moments when nothing mattered but how comfortable, cozy, and warm I was. So warm. I snuggled further under the blankets. A hard body was at my back and a strong arm was banded across my waist.

  I opened my eyes and stared at the wall across from the bed. A wall that had once sported a One Direction poster and my ticket stubs to one of their concerts in London. Now, it had a modern abstract painting with only a spark of color among the earth tones, done by a local artist and purchased for top-dollar. Remembering the day Mother insisted I redo my bedroom as befit a young woman helped take my mind off where I was right now.

  And that was pinned against Xander’s hard stomach with an even harder appendage prodding my bottom. I didn’t want to move.

  I should, but after he’d confided in me last night, I couldn’t disrupt this moment of closeness between us. I might not be able to jump him quite yet without a healthy dose of hard liquor, but I could snuggle. I could wish that we’d married for real, and were staying together because we were deeply in love.

  I was in lust. But that didn’t change why we were there, together.

  He nuzzled my hair, destroying my hopes that he was fast asleep and didn’t know I was actively engaged in snuggling. “What are you thinking about?”

  I chewed the inside of my lip. To te
ll the truth or not? The fact that he lied so well to his family bothered me, but didn’t at the same time. His remorse and shame were clear, but he hadn’t confided in me until he’d been busted by Lex, as if he hadn’t wanted me to know how personal his trust fund was to him.

  I was staying married for the money so that when I let down my family, I had a safety net. He was staying married so he wouldn’t let down his family.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I thought we’d been growing closer, but all last night had done was remind me of our true motivations. That safety net wouldn’t protect my heart if I fell in love with this man. So I lied. “I wish I didn’t have to go to work tomorrow.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Unless your dad has said yes, then I do. My dad would kick me out otherwise.” It was a long year until next February.

  “What about moving out first? We can go somewhere besides Montana or DC.”

  I looked over my shoulder. “What? It’s the middle of winter, a bad time to roam the world with no home or money.”

  “It’s not winter everywhere.”

  “I can’t afford an international flight. Can you?”

  “All we have to do is afford the flight there. We’ll earn enough for a trip home later.”

  I chewed my lip. He made it sound so easy but my entire being rebelled at the thought. I might be well traveled, but I was well traveled on well-funded trips. “Room and board?”

  “I earn that too.” His cadence kicked up like he was getting excited. “You really learn about the world, and the people, and what they need. I think you’d really like it. Depending where we go, you’ll be closer to the earth than ever before.”

  “Like camping?”

  “Maybe. Depends.”

  I sat up, letting the blankets drop from my torso to pool at my waist. I’d been wearing a T-shirt to bed since Xander had come home with me. “Depends? I can’t just go and not know.” I couldn’t quit on Chief and leave and then expect my parents to save me when I called begging them to help me get home.

  “You wanted to work with my dad about environmental issues regarding oil. So we can go to places where oil has decimated the land. Alaska? Hell, there’s been pipeline leaks in North Dakota. And—”

  “—and it’s not winter everywhere, but I’m pretty sure those places are currently buried in snow.” I didn’t need to get stranded in a blizzard.

  “Texas has oil fields,” he continued as if learning about where oil was drilled hadn’t been part of my college education. “Or even better—offshore drilling. We could investigate how the seismic techniques used to look for oil underwater can damage marine life. And then travel up north when it’s summer to look at fracking. You’ve heard the controversy around that, right? There’s always part-time work to be found in the oil areas. ”

  I tuned him out. What he said made sense, but I couldn’t escape the subtle undertone of You don’t know what you’re talking about, Sapphire that I’d heard my whole life. “No offense, but I’m already well researched on those topics.”

  “Research is different than living it.” The simple way he said it cut into me until the ache I’d felt earlier turned to hurt. The whole reason I’d chosen him in the first place was because he took me seriously. After seeing what a spoiled rich girl I was, had he changed his tune?

  “I’m sure Chief will agree that’s a lesson I have to learn too.” I stood and gathered my clothes to keep from looking at how devastatingly sexy he was in my bed. He was right. He could pack up and go and that’s why I’d married him, but when push came to shove, I couldn’t do it.

  He ran a hand through his messy bedhead. He’d washed all the gel out and was back to his sexy, haphazard self. “Look, I’m trying to help—”

  “I know. But I can’t go rushing off. We have almost twelve months still. I can’t burn all my bridges before the end is in sight.”

  “Your parents should support you if you want to move out and find a different job.”

  I leveled him with a stare. “Is that why you came home with me and didn’t fly to Montana with your dad?”

  His jaw flexed. “Touché.”

  “I’m sorry.” As long as I was stuck, he was stuck with me. It couldn’t be easy to accept after the freedom he’d had for years. It wasn’t easy for me to accept that he’d married me for his own monetary reasons and not because I’d swept him away.

  “Don’t be. You’re right.”

  Didn’t mean it hurt any less. It was like I had channeled Chief. We needed a better topic to land on, to bring back the lightness of playing in the snow. I spotted his camera bag. “I think you picked a fine career.”

  He sat up and draped his arms over his knees. Unlike me, he wasn’t wearing a shirt, so every mouthwatering ab was on display. “You want to look at my pictures again?”

  “You haven’t pulled out your camera since you’ve been here.” He’d taken no pictures of my home, my family, or . . . me. Us. Unease combed through me. Why would he? We weren’t a real couple trying to capture memories.

  “The older ones are in the cloud.”

  “Get your laptop. Let’s see them.” It had worked last time to bring us together, get us talking. Last time, he’d offered, but today he wasn’t going for his camera or his laptop. “Unless you don’t want to show me.”

  Hurt snaked through me. That’s what was wrong between us. We’d been so passionate that first night—before we’d taken our clothing off. We’d talked about our plans, our dreams. But reality was different. Reality was hard. Besides the night I’d met him, he hadn’t taken a picture in my presence. Likewise, I hadn’t done more toward my chosen career than toss a can in a recycling bin.

  “I don’t mind showing you,” he said. Then he rolled out of bed and padded to his camera, like I’d imagined his reluctance. With his back to me, I ate up the sight of his carved back tapering into his boxer briefs.

  This was where the marriage would be hard. He was what had attracted me in the first place. Him, doing his thing. If we had married based purely on our blazing chemistry, then it would have been easier to survive this year as a couple.

  It was about being with you longer.

  Was that part true?

  He lifted his laptop out of his bag and I spun before I could get caught staring. “I’ll be right back.”

  I scurried to the bathroom. I doubted my mind would get any clearer in there, but I needed to clean up anyway.

  When I returned, he was dressed in his jeans and his untucked blue plaid flannel, looking so out of place in my young lady elegant room, but the truth was, I felt out of place here too.

  Xander scratched the back of his neck, his laptop open as he held it in one hand. “I’ve gotta use the bathroom. Do you want to go to the library or something when I get back?”

  I wanted to stay holed up in my room with him and keep the rest of the world away while we figured some shit out. “We can do it here.”

  After he left, I threw on a Georgetown sweater Pearl had gotten me for laughs and a pair of maroon leggings. I was pulling on fluffy socks made from recycled jeans when Xander entered. He pushed the door shut and joined me on the bed, sitting on the other side. I leaned over as he clicked through his pictures.

  Flashes of people flew by. He didn’t say much about each one, just gave me a rundown of the location and when he’d taken it. In several photos, one woman in particular kept reappearing.

  “Girlfriend?”

  He stopped, his jaw ticking as he studied the picture. My throat grew thick. For fuck’s sake, did he still have a girlfriend? One in each country? These were questions I should’ve asked before we married.

  God, I was naïve. I didn’t know this guy.

  Finally, he sighed. “She and I dated, but it wasn’t serious and it ended before I left.”

  “There’s a lot of photos of her.”

  “She liked to pose and her parents loved the pictures.” He leaned across the bed closer to me and flippe
d through the rest. The woman was stunning. Burnt-umber skin, long dark hair, glittering dark eyes, and a round face that managed a level of innocence and sexuality that shouldn’t mix.

  “She’s beautiful,” I murmured, more disheartened with each snapshot. “Why the Philippines?”

  “I stayed for several months doing a story on the parallels of rural farming there and here in the States.” He glanced at me and, seeing my blankness, explained, “Many farmers in both places have heavy debt and struggle to feed their families while growing food for the nation.”

  “Did you write the article?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Is it the writing stopping you?” I stretched across the bed, which brought me closer to his fresh linen smell. Other than minty toothpaste and my shampoo, he didn’t use products. A simple man but a complex individual. I had to get to know the individual.

  “Yeah. I like action. Sitting at a computer and punching out the details is something I’d do on a long flight, not when I could work or take pictures.” He flipped through frame after frame. There was a man bent over a crop I didn’t recognize, dressed in basketball shorts and a T-shirt. Another with a red and white tractor of some sort. Was it similar to anything Xander had used as a rancher? Photos flew by of people swarming a field, then more of fields submerged in water. Rice. That was the only crop I could identify.

  One thing was clear in each picture. He had talent. Maybe it was raw. What did I know about photography? But he had passion and that gave him an edge many photographers didn’t have. He could focus on what was most important in the photo without making it the focus. In each of the farming pictures, it was obvious how hard they worked, that the odds were stacked against them, and that they loved the land.

  He kept going back until he hit green plains disrupted by buttes and a river.

  “Where’s that?”

  “Home.”

  I peered closer. Cattle dotted the pastures and the green was offset by the twinkling blue of the river. Fluffy white clouds dotted the sky. The image was a burst of color that was pleasing and relaxing. A meditation on the screen. The clarity was stunning, as if I could walk from my room right into the scene and stay there. “It’s gorgeous.”

 

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