8. Fallon
CHAPTER 8
FALLON
If anyone had told me a year ago that I'd be spending a Saturday night wearing a bolo tie at a ranch gala, trying not to punch the mayor in the throat, I'd have laughed in their face.
I'm not laughing now.
Earlier Alex was working the room like a man running for office. He was all firm handshakes, and tight smiles. But this is a completely different story. His gaze keeps cutting toward the mayor like he's watching a snake slither too close to his boots.
I take in the situation.
I spot all my brothers standing at attention from various points in the room. Callum sips bourbon with an eye on controlling the crowd. Holden stays at the auction table calculating market value like he's on Shark Tank, but his eyes flick back and forth to Alex.
In the center of the room Mayor Randolph Bellcourt is running his damn mouth... Again. His daughter, Becca stands beside him and a woman with huge tits and even bigger hair stands beside him. Her eyes are trained on the floor. You can cut the tension with a knife.
Bellcourt raises his glass in a toast, "This community needs growth.” His voice is raised just enough to draw attention. "The highway expansion isn't just about convenience. It's about jobs, opportunity and progress."
Alex steps forward, and I can see the fire behind his eyes. "You want progress? Try doing it without threatening to cut our ranch in half."
I don't like the way Bellcourt's looking at Alex. I don't like the smug little curl of his lip or the way half the room is starting to tune in like this is some kind of show.
"Progress comes at a cost," the mayor says smoothly. "Sometimes that means sacrifice for the good of the community."
Holden bristles beside me. "Man, there ain't nothing out here for miles and you're telling me the only option is straight through here. I'm so sick of your bullshit."
The room falls silent, and I race to get to Alex's side. We are rapidly approaching the boiling point. We’ve been here before.
"You good?"
A calm washes over Alex's face. "Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just this asshole is about to find out what we call sacrifice. I've had enough."
I chuckle, but it's hollow.
Then the mayor drops the real bomb. "Alex, you're just upset that my proposal might force you to open your books. Is that it? Or maybe it's the fact that your wife is my leftover? That one still stings a little, doesn’t it?"
The air goes razor-sharp.
"Oh, hell no." Anny’s voice comes from behind me.
From there it’s a blur. Bellcourt laughs. Alex lunges. We manage to grab him before he can land a punch, but a table flips in the process. Cutlery cascades to the floor with a loud crash that brings the night screeching to a halt. Alex is seething.
I step in. "You're out of line, and you’re done here." My heart thuds in my chest as I stare at him with heat in my eyes.
The mayor turns to me, completely unbothered. "Ah. The prodigal son. Back from your little football vacation to play cowboy again, huh?"
"You want to try me?" I growl.
"Try you?" His smirk widens. "Son, you wouldn't last five minutes in a town hall meeting. Leave the grown-up business to the people who know how to get things done."
I don't remember closing the distance, but I'm suddenly right there in his face. My fists are clenched. My vision narrows. I've got a dozen reasons not to swing. Not a single one of them is good enough to stop me.
Alex and Bellcourt sling insults back and forth. Cassidy pleads for them to stop causing a scene. Alex takes a step back like he might be ready to end it, but I’m not planning on letting the mayor off that easily no matter how many people are watching.
Then something shifts in the periphery. It’s Becca Bellcourt.
The mayor's twenty-two-year-old daughter slips out the side door in a backless red dress that's about one bad decision away from going viral. She doesn't even glance around. Just floats out like she's heading somewhere more important.
I wouldn't have paid her any attention… except for the tall, quiet figure trailing behind her. It’s Danner.
His posture is casual, but his eyes are locked on her like a heat-seeking missile. The sight throws me off. What the hell? I mentally flag it. But before I can deal with that particular wildfire, a hand grips my arm.
"Come with me," Anny says.
It's not a suggestion.
I let out a huff and decide that laying the mayor out on his back isn't the kind of press I need. Instead, I follow Anny. I let her pull me through the double doors and into the warm hush of the hallway behind the ballroom.
The second the door swings shut, I feel everything. All the anger. The fight. The old Kingridge pride still boils just beneath the surface. Every muscle in my body clenches with anger.
"I was fine," I say, pacing like a caged bull.
"You were about to redecorate the mayor's face with your fists."
"He earned it."
"And what would that prove?" she asks, voice low but firm. "That he's right? That we're just a bunch of hot-headed cowboys who solve everything with punches and property lines?"
Anny steps in front of me, placing both hands on my chest. The contact is unexpected. It's hot and grounding. She stops me in my tracks. I stare down at her, my chest heaving. She's so close I can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of my shirt.
"You don't get it," I say quietly. "This land is everything. He touches it, he touches us."
"I do get it," she says. "I work it every damn day. But if you throw a punch, you lose control. And if he wins, we all lose."
She's right. I hate that she's right. But I love that she's the one pulling me back from the edge.
"You've changed," I murmur.
Her brows lift, and she lets out a giggle. "Don't worry, everyone in that room knows you can take him."
I brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek. Her breath catches and we stand there in the stillness. The music behind the walls is muffled and our breath is the only sound between us. Anny's eyes flick to my mouth. My fingers brush her waist in response. She doesn't pull away... Neither do I.
There's a pull between us. It's hot, electric, and impossible to ignore. Her lips part. Her fingers tighten in the fabric of my shirt.
My voice is a low whisper. "Every time I look at you, I remember who I want to be."
"Fallon..." she says, barely above a breath.
And then I kiss her.
I grab the back of her neck and pull her to me. Our mouths collide and the result sparks like a match to dry timber. There's no more hesitation, no testing the waters. It’s just adrenaline and need.
Fire burns through me, and it's all-consuming. I part her lips with my tongue, and it's fierce. She tastes like everything I've ever wanted and convinced myself I couldn't have. Her hands tangle in my shirt like she's trying to hold herself together. But I'm ready for her to fall apart.
I press her back against the wall. My thigh shoves between hers. Her dress rides up just enough to make my heart stop. I kiss her like she's mine. Like she's always belonged to me… because she has. And when she moans into my mouth, low and desperate, I damn near lose it.
Gripping Anny's hips, I anchor her to me. Her tongue slides against mine, and I swear I see fireworks. I'd stay in this hallway forever if she'd let me. When we finally break apart, we're breathing like we've just run from a barn fire. Her lipstick's smudged. My shirt's wrinkled. Her fingers are still fisted in my collar, and her eyes are wide.
The truth pounds through me.
It’s in my head, in my chest, and in every beat of my blood. I know I never should've left her. Never should've believed the lies I told myself about what she needed, or about what I was capable of. Because this woman doesn’t need a perfect hero, she needs me.
And I need her. I’ll burn the whole damn ranch to the ground before I let anyone take her from me again.