by Jillian Neal
“I was just trying to scare you into not coming.”
“I don’t scare easily.”
“I already knew that. I’ll pick you up at six. Please do use the luggage if you don’t mind. Let’s not leave Beverly much to gossip about. It’ll really piss her off.”
Chapter Nine
The next morning, long before the sun warmed Holder Ranch, Meridian buried her face in Kagan’s neck. Her horse turned her head to hug her back, soothing Meridian’s restless soul.
“There’s my girl.” Her mother’s voice added a warm blanket of calm to Kagan’s hug. Meridian lifted her head.
“Hey, Mama. You’re up early.”
“I wanted to see you before you go off on your trip with Jack. I made you some coffee.” She handed over a Coleman coffee thermos.
“Thanks. Yours is the best.” She quickly helped herself to some of the restoring warmth. “I don’t know anything about ballrooms or blue bloods or bourbon or anything,” erupted from her mind and spilled out of her mouth. “I shouldn’t have demanded to go on this trip. I don’t like not knowing things.”
Leigh Holder grinned at her daughter. “Yeah, we figured that out when you were about two and got mad at your daddy because Maddox knew how to tie his shoes and you didn’t.”
Meridian rolled her eyes at her mother’s laughter. Leigh gave Kagan a few loving strokes as well. “I don’t know much about any of that stuff either, baby doll, but I do know one thing. If they put a bowl down in front of you that’s full of lemon slices and water, it’s not lemon soup—it’s a finger bowl. I made that mistake on a date at the country club one time and that’s how I ended up married to your daddy instead of somebody with a trust fund.” She winked, and Meridian joined her mother’s laughter.
But a minute later, Meridian was gnawing her own lip, a habit she’d thought she’d broken. “What’s a finger bowl?”
“It’s to clean your hands. Ridiculous thing when we have soap and sinks, if you ask me, but fancy people tend to enjoy ridiculous things that make other people feel inferior. But you listen to me, do not let these people make you feel less than. You are Meridian Holder, Gentry and Leigh Holder’s little girl, a damn good lawyer and an even better cowgirl. A good sister, a good cousin, a good person, and that, honey, is all that really matters in this world. We’re all gonna end up in the same sized box. If they want theirs to be lined in gold then more power to 'em. You have a heart of gold, and I think that’s way more important.”
“Thanks, Mama.” She threw her arms around her mother. That hug soothed her even more than Kagan’s had.
“You might want to shower before Jack comes to pick you up. Them fancy people might not like it if you smell like a horse barn.”
“I don’t really care what they think,” she insisted.
“I know that, but you care what Jack thinks and kinda wouldn’t mind his family liking you.”
“How did you know I care what Jack thinks?”
Leigh grinned at her. “If you like knowing things, you should become a mama. We know everything. Like I also know that this trip is to save those foals and this ranch from the heavy hand of the state, but it’s also because you want to spend a week with Mr. Denton. Honey, why don’t you just admit you like him? I suspect he feels the same.”
“Because then everyone will talk. When I finally become DA, they’ll somehow equate it to me sleeping with him.”
“What if you didn’t try to take his job?”
Meridian huffed, mostly at her own stubbornness. “I don’t like not being best either.”
Her mother shook her head. “You not being DA doesn’t make him better than you. We’re so quick to assign rank and importance to things that aren’t. Someday you’re gonna figure out that being happy is worth a whole lot more than any title anywhere. But you have to be brave enough to let things go.”
“I’m not that brave.” Meridian had no trouble admitting that.
“Not yet. But you will be when the time is right. I know that too.”
Dread sawed through Jack’s gut as his truck tires ground down the gravel to Meridian’s home. Everything about this was wrong, and yet he drove on.
He would protect her. The vow cemented itself in his mind and in his heart, and that was the anchor he needed to go on with this. The motor choked on the gravel dust when he finally hit the brakes at her porch. The Holders saw no need for things like driveways when gravel and grass worked just fine. It was yet another thing Jack loved about Oklahoma. There was no pretense. There was only what you could hold on to at the end of the day.
As the fog of gravel settled, she appeared there like an angel stepping from the clouds. She was struggling to get the Mont Blanc bags out her front door while carrying a thermos of coffee, her purse, and her keys. Jack sprinted from the truck to her side to assist. “May I?” He had no intention of taking no for an answer but gave her the courtesy of asking.
“I’ve got…”
“Uh huh, I can tell.” He lifted both suitcases and left her to the saddle leather purse, keys, and coffee. Trying not to grimace, he noted his first mistake. That handbag would be the topic of discussion behind her back. Without access to the Denton accounts, he could no longer afford to procure Birkins or Louis Vuittons, so there wasn’t much he could do about it. He knew she’d never consent to going without a purse.
“What?” she sniped as soon as they were in the truck.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie. Something worried you.”
“It’s your handbag.”
She clutched the large purse to her chest. “What’s wrong with it? I love it. I had it made from the leather on the saddle I learned to ride on.”
And it looked as such. “See, this is precisely what I’ve been trying to tell you about my family. There is nothing wrong with your bag. It’s perfect because you enjoy it. It’s real. It means something to you. The lack of brand name on it means my mother will pick it apart. I don’t want to give her any ammunition.”
Meridian spared him an eye roll as she downed another sip of her coffee. “I really do not care what your mother thinks of me unless it makes this trip harder on you.”
Jack let that repeated declaration baptize over him. “The entire state of Kentucky cares what my mother thinks. Maybe I’m unaccustomed to being around someone who doesn’t.”
“You’ve been out here a while. I guarantee you nobody in Oklahoma gives a pile of manure what your mama thinks.”
Jack laughed both at her phrasing and at the absurdity of the statement. “Trust me, cowgirl, if my mother waved her wand of power and changed our Midwestern Territory Director for the Oklahoma market and that in turn raised the price or availability of Denton liquors here, people would care. If that in turn, affected the price of our liquors at Rusty’s, right here in Holder County, even you might care.”
Meridian’s eyes narrowed. “Our Midwestern Territory Director? Our liquors? Here I was thinking you were the Holder County District Attorney, no longer a whiskey baron.”
“Old habits I guess. Forgive my slip, but you get my point.”
“Your mother likes to feel important.”
“Very much.”
“And my handbag will make her feel not important?”
“It’s more that it will give her a place to start tearing you down.”
Jack couldn’t quite keep his eyes on the road as Meridian yanked an old woven makeup bag from the purse, popped down the passenger side mirror, and proceeded to put on her favorite brutal red lipstick. He’d spent years imagining that very color all over his cock. “Bring it on,” she challenged after her warpaint was perfectly in place.
“Do me a favor and don’t say that to her.”
He parked at the small airstrip in the unincorporated portion of the county between Holder City and Odell. Trying to discreetly study Meridian, he was certain she’d never flown on a private jet, much less the Denton private jet. He slung his bag over his shoulder and carried the suit
cases he’d loaned her.
“Mr. Denton, sir.” Beckett grinned as he reached for the luggage. “I’m sorry to have to tell you that we’ll be flying against a headwind from a storm cell so the flight will be a little longer than normal.”
“You work for my father, Beck, not me. You don’t need to call me sir, and the weather isn’t your fault. I’m not in any hurry so no need to apologize. This is Meridian Holder, my girlfriend.” He knew it was a problem when men took great comfort in their lies, and yet the one he’d just told felt entirely too good to ignore, too good to not to continue telling it. He was his father’s son after all.
Chapter Ten
Meridian spent the majority of her energy trying to pretend that flying on a private jet was no big deal. She’d never even flown first class anywhere before so this was all extremely bizarre. Plush leather couch-like things were in the place where regular people seats should be. There was a kitchen, a large screen TV mounted on the wall between the seats and the pilot, a small bedroom, and a fully stocked bar.
The flight attendant, Muriel, came by again and asked if she’d like something else to drink. “I’m fine. Thank you though.” She’d done that every fifteen minutes for the last hour and a half. If Meridian accepted anymore Dr. Pepper, she was going to float the rest of the way to Louisville. When Muriel returned to the small kitchen area of the plane, Meridian finally leaned into Jack who’d had his arm propped behind her shoulders for the majority of the flight and asked, “Why does she keep doing that?”
Jack tried to smother a grin. “She wants to make sure you’re comfortable.”
“The refrigerator is right there. If I was thirsty, I could just get something myself, or if she really loves her job that much I could wave my hand or something. I don’t like being waited on.”
“She’s also my mother’s favorite spy, which I’m beyond certain is why instead of working in the house today, she’s pretending she knows how to be a flight attendant.” To her absolute shock, he brushed a kiss on her cheek. Okay, then. Apparently their fake relationship started right now. She was not prepared for that. How dare he do that before she was ready? And…how come she liked it so much? “You’re going to need to stop looking like you’d prefer to murder me when I kiss you if we’re going to pretend to be crazy about each other,” whispered across her ear.
She shivered from the breathy caress. “I just…wasn’t expecting it.” To prove that she was going to hold up her end of the bargain, she nonchalantly laid her hand on his thigh, closer to the heat behind his zipper than he would ever have expected—she refused to be the only one caught off guard—and eased her head onto his shoulder. “Better?”
“Much.” He choked on the word, deeply pleasing her.
“You’re going to need to not sound like I’m gagging you when I touch your leg if we’re going to pretend to be crazy about each other,” she quoted back.
He cradled her close, and the lines of reality blurred. “I feel certain that I am not the first man to ever choke on lust from you, cowgirl.”
She liked that response far more than she really should.
“We’ll be landing soon.” He changed the subject which she supposed she was okay with although his last comment still hung in the lack of air between them.
“Where do private jets land at airports? I should probably act like I’ve done this before,” she whispered.
“We won’t land at the airport. We’ll land on the Denton Airstrip on our property.”
Hole-e-fuck. Well alrighty then. “Will all of your family be there when we arrive?” It would be much easier if she could meet them a little at a time to get her bearings.
“I doubt it. There’s something like seventy-five various family members with interest in the company at this point. Surely they won’t all be there until the wedding. My father will put off having to see me until he can’t escape anymore. My mother will pounce like a starved jackal as soon as your boots are on Denton land.”
“You speak so kindly of her,” Meridian teased.
“I am being kind. Reserve judgment until you’ve dealt with her.”
True to his word, she heard the landing gear engage as lush green hills blurred by the windows. The closest sensation she’d had to the experience of being dropped into an entirely unknown world were those awful dreams where she felt like she was falling with no one to catch her. “This must be what it’s like for Maddox when he parachutes into enemy territory,” she commented.
“Brilliant girl. I’m glad you’re finally listening to me.” Jack planted a kiss in her hair this time, and Meridian told herself that she did a much better job of behaving as if that was totally normal, even though nothing about it felt normal at all.
It felt right. It felt dangerously stupid and deliciously good all at once. It felt like coming in from a storm of ice and snow and sinking slowly into a hot bath that dissolved all of the pretenses she made up in her head and the frostbite that nipped at her soul.
She lifted her head and was certain her eyes displayed the panic fizzing in her chest. “Kiss me,” she ordered.
“What?” He didn’t look opposed, just surprised.
“Kiss me for real. On the mouth. I’m apparently about to have to convince half the state of Kentucky that we’re in love, and I’m not going to fail. I’ve never failed at anything except becoming DA, and I don’t intend to make a habit of it. Kiss me until it doesn’t feel weird anymore,” she whispered frantically. “Do it now.”
Jack didn’t have to be ordered twice. “Look at me.” He cradled her delicate features in the palm of his hands. “Thank you for doing this for me. I swear to you I will not let them tear you apart the way they’ve done everything else that meant anything to me.”
He leaned in, giving her a half heartbeat to pull away, and when she didn’t, he brushed his lips tenderly against hers. A quick shaky exhale from her fueled the blaze of need roaring in his groin. He turned his head, threaded his fingers through the fire of her hair, and devoured a soft, sweet little moan.
The kiss ignited. She opened for him. Their tongues tangled in the middle and fought for dominance. He fed her a desperate groan, forcing her to forfeit as he drew her tongue into his mouth and sucked.
Unable to think, unable to do anything but take, he devoured her. His left hand gripped her ass and squeezed—god, he’d fantasized about that ass so many times his dick was tired of his hand. Her legs parted every bit as easily as her lips had. Damn.
He drank in her obvious need, her hunger that matched his own, and steeped himself in the flavors of her. Apparently, his hands weren’t the only ones that were inquisitive. She slipped her palm up his thigh and gently traced along the stiff steel length of him.
“Fuck,” slipped from his mouth when she turned again and allowed them breath.
“Jack,” met his curse in the middle. The words tied themselves in the knots that kept them inextricably bound to the kiss.
She stirred every primitive instinct he possessed, the ones he’d tried so hard to rid himself of. Her lips were already kiss-swollen, but he wanted them bruised.
Contentment—that had been his goal when he’d run away from this place they were descending upon. He refused to be like his family. No one should try to own the world. He only wanted a small piece he could call his own. He wanted to serve the public that his family robbed from.
But now—this, her—he’d never be content. He’d always need more, a willing junkie for her lips, for her body, for her mind, for her.
Letting the greed drive him, he slipped his hand from her delectable ass to the cream of her thighs. The skirt she was wearing was loose, thank god.
A shuddered gasp of breath signaled her realization that he planned to take everything she offered, and he’d beg for whatever she withheld. The hem of the skirt slipped quickly over the back of his hand as he explored.
The deep clearing of a male’s throat nearby took several seconds longer than it should’ve to make Jack stop his
quest to discover just how wet he’d made her, his new personal goal.
She jerked back, but their eyes remained locked in an embrace all their own as they chased their breath. Shock, need, confusion, and chaos reflected from her all-telling gaze, an emotional mirror to his own, he was certain.
“We’re sorry to interrupt,” Beckett eased cautiously, likely concerned he was going to be fired for the intrusion. Despite the greed now eating at his soul, Jack was determined never to do anything his father would’ve done.
Blinking in an effort to break the emotional connection between them proved woefully ineffective. A deep breath only served to bring more of the intoxicating scent of her arousal to his lungs.
Finally, she was able to turn to face Muriel and Beckett, forcing Jack to do the same. “It’s fine,” he lied outright. It was not fine. It was blasphemy. It was, indeed, a fireable offense. “We got…”
“Carried away,” Meridian concluded for him.
“Your mother is waiting for you both in the house.” Muriel’s announcement dripped with scolding disdain. That statement told Jack everything he needed to know about his mother’s hopes for Meridian. She’d likely chewed his father’s and the entire staff’s ears to shreds informing them that this was all fake. Certainly, Jackson would never fall for someone outside of her jurisdiction, outside of Bourbon Country. He could all but hear her shrill disdain. The woman had her head shoved so far up her own ass she failed to see that rebellion fed her son. It drove him. For most of his life, it had been his singular goal.
The fact that he knew reckless rebellion so intimately meant that he recognized the flare of it in Meridian’s eyes as she picked up on Muriel’s condescension, and nothing ever burned as hot and wild as whiskey.
Chapter Eleven
The fog rolling in off of the river only furthered the sense that Meridian had arrived in some kind of parallel universe. The confusion and passion from the kiss stirred violently into a Molotov cocktail in her belly. My god, where had he learned to kiss like that? Part of her wanted to meet the woman and thank her, but she needed to remember that kisses like that were a part of this bizarre, fake reality they were weaving. They weren’t really hers to own or be thankful for.