Chapter 9 – Wylie
“You need help carrying that?” I asked Jovie, who was balancing a large bowl full of Caesar salad and a bottle of wine on top of her little arms.
“Take the wine, please. It makes me sad knowing I won’t be able to drink it for the next nine months.”
I chuckled as I took the bottle and bowl out of her arms before following her into the dining room of Ashwood ranch.
“Do you come here just to get a free meal every night?” Stevie’s voice cut through the peaceful, family moment as she crossed her arms from her seat in the dining room.
I didn’t have to have dinner with Nash and Jovie every night, but things had gotten lonely since my dad and Ms. Vector left on their adventure to reconnect around the world and Nash moved to Ashwood ranch permanently. That left just Clay and me back at Cameron, and most nights, he was out with his friends, ten years younger than me in age and maturity. Plus, Jovie and Nash never minded me crashing their meal.
“Play nice, Stevie,” Jovie cautioned. “We love having both of the twin's godparents over for dinner.”
“I never agreed to that,” I grunted as I sank into the chair across from Stevie.
Nash came up behind me and clapped me on the shoulder a little too hard almost as a warning. “But you will, brother.”
I sighed loudly, knowing he was right but not wanting Stevie to think it had anything to do with her. There was no way anyone else was influencing my nephews but me—for better or worse.
“Have you finalized their names yet?” Stevie’s eyes widened with excitement.
If I wasn’t still so pissed off about the arranged marriage situation, I might have thought she looked adorable with those big, dark brown, doe eyes and the way she wore her hair pulled up into a messy bun of curls tonight, but the reminder that I needed a wife, not a hot piece of ass with a smart mouth and fuckable body, put a damper on things.
Jovie and Stevie started talking eagerly across the table about the names her and Nash had picked out for the twins while I dug into the steaks that we'd grilled earlier, ignoring the wine and salad and opting for a beer instead.
Nash nudged me from the seat next to me as the women continued chatting about baby registries, crib safety standards and other things that were so out of the scope of my understanding or interest it sounded like the adults speaking on Charlie Brown.
“Got any prospects on the wife front?” he asked quietly, probably unaware that I’d already told Stevie about my predicament. Nash was intuitive like that, a middle-child trait looking to find peace and not start drama. I’d have just blurted it out in front of anyone without caring about who I made uncomfortable.
“Nah, still trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do.”
He nodded, then leaned back towards Jovie who was still speaking with Stevie but squeezing Nash's thigh as she talked.
Gross.
I averted my eyes back to my steak and pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts to see who I could text for a distraction. It wouldn’t be a wife, but it’d at least get my mind off the situation and maybe clear my head enough to come up with a plan.
My fingers hovered over ‘Red’ in my contacts for a moment. Red was Millie’s nickname because of her bright red hair, and I’d confirmed several times that the curtains matched the drapes. She worked full-time for the city as the town's Treasurer and was wicked smart but also, always down for a fun time without looking for a commitment. I pulled up a new text message to her to ask if she wanted to meet up tonight. She responded with a winky face immediately.
I turned back to my steak, a smug smile sliding across my face as I considered the ways that I'd take my frustration out with Millie when Stevie's phone pinged from across the table. She glanced at the screen, her eyes widening with a flicker of fear for only a moment before she composed herself again. Quickly, she shoved the phone into her pocket and took a long gulp of wine. The smile she always wore was back in place, but something was off about the way it didn't quite touch her eyes. Her mood had shifted, and it felt like the air was instantly hotter.
I hadn’t realized how much her presence impacted me until this moment. Though she was often sarcastic, occasionally rude, and consistently moody, she had a light that brightened an environment filled with men worn down by the harsh elements and demanding work on the ranch.
Beauty was rare in Lonestar Junction; isolation at work miles away from others and limited evening activities left little to enjoy beyond the bar or rodeo. So, when you did see something beautiful, you took notice and wanted to keep around that beauty as if it could rub off on you. And right now, something ugly was rearing itself in Stevie's disposition.
I pressed the glass bottle to my lips again as I watched her fidget with her knife before cutting gently into her steak. She chewed quietly while Nash and Jovie went on about their wedding plans and the details that they'd need our help with in less than three months. Stevie nodded politely, pretending to listen, but there was nothing behind her eyes anymore. The light had gone out, replaced by only darkness.
My interest was piqued, but now wasn’t the time to ask.
We finished dinner, me mostly in silence, analyzing Stevie’s every move as she tried her best to act normal. She wore her emotions on her face, if she was happy, the world knew. If she was mad, I knew because it was usually anger directed towards me. She never concealed anything, and that’s how I knew that right now she was pretending.
Stevie offered to clear the table so that Nash and Jovie could go on their nightly walk around the pond. I volunteered to help her. In the kitchen, while we rinsed dishes and loaded the dishwasher, neither of us said a word. Something was definitely wrong.
“You good?” I asked, bad at sensitivity but curious to know what had her so deep in thought.
She jumped, as if she hadn’t realized I’d been there the whole time. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.” She waved her hands dramatically, a tiny bit of her quick wit and snappy personality sliding back into place, but something was still missing behind the softness of her voice.
“You just damn near jumped out of your skin like you didn’t even realize I was here cleaning up with you.”
She rolled her eyes and pressed the button to start the dishwasher. “You’re crazy, Wylie.” But the words didn’t roll off her tongue like they usually did. She was holding something back, and I was a detective, hot on the case.
“You up for a late-night swim? I’m not ready to go back to Cameron ranch just yet.” I grabbed two bottles of Bud Light from the fridge and pointed them toward the deck where the pool was filled with the floaties from earlier in the day.
She nodded, still lost in her head and whatever was on her mind. “Sure. Give me a few minutes while I go change into my swimsuit.”
She swiped her phone from the kitchen counter and headed towards the guest room where she was staying while I walked out onto the deck.
I twisted the top off of one of the beers and settled into a chair while I watched the last rays of the sunset slip off beyond the horizon. My mind twisted with thoughts about the arranged marriage I needed to enter into and what could be upsetting Stevie.
After a few minutes of peaceful silence, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Figuring it was Red, asking where I was at, I slid it out only to find a text from Stevie instead.
Stevie: Can you come here, please? I need help with something in my room.