Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Bailey
“ T hank you for having us, Mrs. King. It was an honor to join you and your family, and we’re grateful for the kindness you have shown us today.” Monty’s grace and sincerity is truly something to be admired. It’s no wonder, despite the reputation the Bishop name has held in this down over three decades, Monty remains one of the most beloved members of our community.
The work he does for the entire town of Crossroads and its residents, using his talent and profession to help those in need, is truly admirable. From helping around town wherever he’s needed, to free labor and support for the older folk down at the Crossroads Senior Living center, providing help for many small repair jobs they’re unable to afford to pay, his goodwill is unmatched.
Even now, as he thanks the gracious hosts who tried to humiliate him and his family, making a mockery of their grief, however small it may be, is something I look up to.
I look around the living room, watching as everyone takes their time to say their goodbyes, but notice Nash is nowhere to be found. The troubling thing, neither is my father.
Sneaking out of the room unseen, I walk down the long corridor to my right, in search of him, but just as I approach my father’s study, I hear two voices arguing inside. The door is open just a pinch, and with quiet steps I approach, leaning my ear against it.
“You think you're so slick having caught me off guard with this stunt you pulled, but all this does is prove you're just as crooked as he was. Forcing a man on his deathbed to sign over his property,” my father says, eliciting a deep growl from Nash.
He scoffs. “Unlike the straight and narrow path you would have taken, stealing it from right under his feet once his body still lay warm in a grave?”
“Keep your voice down, son. I’m not above causing a scene, but I won't be the one made a fool of. I saw the way you were looking at my daughter, and it seems to me you’ve forgotten what we’d agreed on?”
Nash lets out a strangled breath, his hands fisting at his sides, clearly holding himself back from really coming for my father and his blatant insults. “That’s what you agreed to, old man. I was a fucking idiot kid who didn’t know any better and allowed a self-proclaimed powerful man to dictate what I did.”
My father’s face is burning in anger. It’s been years since I’ve seen him this affected by anyone. “Yes, well, you don’t seem to be any smarter if you’ve returned. I’ll say it again as I did then. If you know what’s best for you and your family, you’ll leave town immediately and never return. Just as you promised, you wouldn’t. Or have you forgotten the deal we made? It’s been ten years, Nash. The money I paid you has accumulated a hell of a lot of interest if you find yourself in need of returning it.”
Nash closes the distance between them, reaching for my father but holding back before laying a hand on him. “If you think your senseless threats matter to me anymore, you're severely mistaken. As for Bailey, what I do or don’t do with your daughter is frankly none of your goddamn business. She’s a grown woman who can decide for herself what she needs.”
Stunned by what I’m hearing, I inhale a sharp breath when I almost lose my footing, causing the men to halt their conversation.
Fearing they’ll find me, I rush out to the back of the house, into the large den we typically use as a second living space and media center, and run straight into Jase’s chest. “Hey there, B. Slow down,” he urges, grabbing me by my shoulders to stop my fall. “Where are you running off to?”
The sound of a door opening calls his attention and we both turn, watching as Nash exits my father’s study, with the man following closely behind him. Nash says nothing as he heads our way, but my father remains by the door, calling Jase over to join him.
Jase follows orders, but not without a curious glance in my direction.
“Hey,” Nash says, as he stands before me. He reaches for me when I don’t immediately reply, tugging me further into the room with him and out of sight from anyone lurking in the hallway. His hands find my waist and pull me in as he crashes his lips against mine.
The kiss catches me by surprise, and I set my palm flat against his chest to push him back, but the moment his tongue dips inside, languid strokes hitting the sides of my mouth, I melt into him. I’ve been aching to feel his lips on mine all night. Now that I have, I want to stay in this moment forever and allow him to erase whatever conversation I overheard just moments ago.
All it did was leave me more confused about what occurred that night ten years ago that forced Nash to disappear without saying goodbye and question my father’s involvement. I always suspected it, especially the way they seemed relieved he’d up and left, but there was no use in questioning his motives.
Nash’s hands creep up my back, tucking under the cream-colored silk top I paired with light blue flared jeans. “Nash,” I moan, giving into the way his touch makes me feel, when I recall the words I hear him say.
I pull away, reminding him we’re in the middle of my house where anyone in his or my family could see us at any moment. His eyes go wide in surprise. “What is it?” he asks, worry etched into the creases of his eyes as his smile tightens into a sharp line.
My palm remains flat against his chest and I can’t help the way my fingers tangle into his shirt at the feel of his muscles heaving beneath me. “Someone is going to see us?” I tell him, yet my mannerisms speak otherwise.
“So what? Bailey, I want you. I want this. I don’t give a fuck who sees us. Better yet,” he says, grabbing me by my hand. “Let’s just go out and tell them right now.”
Everything he’s saying is exactly what I’ve prayed to hear for so long. He wants me, wants us to be in a relationship, meaning he’s thinking about staying in Crossroads longer than he planned to because of me, but I can’t help but think of what he and my father spoke about.
Is all of this willingness to admit to everyone that we’re together, just a ploy to prove to my dad he has the upper hand? That my father isn’t powerful enough to forbid us being together any longer?
“Nash, please stop.” He halts in his tracks but doesn’t release my hand. “Look, I want to be with you, too. Trust me, there’s nothing I want more. But we need to figure out what we want before we drag any of our friends or family into this. It’s more complicated than that. You have to be sure this is what you want because if you do, it means staying in Crossroads.”
“Then let's go home and figure it all out right now.” Why is he suddenly so eager? I hate myself for questioning the sincerity of his words, but I can’t help the uncertainty creeping inside me.
“I’m staying here tonight.” His face falls at my admission and I find myself needing to assure him it’s not because of what I may or may not have overheard. “Tomorrow, I have to be up bright and early to prepare everything for the festival. My mama offered to let me use her kitchen, which is much larger than mine at the cafe.”
Nash cups my face with his free hand, his thumb tracing circles along my skin in a tender caress. “Angel, are you sure? I can’t help but feel there’s something else going on?”
I want to pull away and not risk someone catching us, but I know it will only further worry him if I do. “It’s fine, Nash, really. We’re good. I just think it’s best for me to stay here tonight. Billie and Monroe are staying, and Brynn will help as well. It just makes sense for us since we’ll begin prep at five am tomorrow in order to have everything ready and packed by noon. Maybe you can come by then and help us transport everything if you’re not busy helping Jase with the stuff for the bar.”
“Yeah, he asked my brothers and I if we’d be available. They’re all staying an extra few days and will help him out. I’ll be here at eleven. I’ll even borrow Monty’s truck to help.”
My eyes meet his, and in this fleeting moment of locked gazes, a gentle warmth envelops me, soothing my racing heart. Nash’s eyes mirror the same affection that resonates deep within me, speaking a silent language only we can understand.
“Thank you. I hope tonight wasn’t too difficult to sit though. I’m sorry for my parents and their tactless questions if they made you or your family uncomfortable.”
His smile is wide and genuine and I’m nearly swept off my feet from how freaking beautiful he is. The room fades into a blur as I keep my gaze on him and the sweet crinkle of his eyes as his smile widens. “I’ve dealt with my fair share of men like your father. I’m good as long as we’re good.”
I nod as he leans forward to place a kiss on my lips, but when I abruptly turn—unable to give into the emotions swirling in my stomach at the quiet intensity of his touch—his lips graze my chin instead. I cringe at what I’ve just done, further admitting that there is something bothering me.
Nash lets out a soft chuckle but says nothing else about it. “Goodnight, Angel. I’ll see you in the morning.”
…
After everyone’s made it to their respective rooms for the night, I pace back-and-forth downstairs, unable to sleep. As I lay my head down on the pillow, all I could do was picture Nash and my father’s heated conversation and the things they’d said that only made me more confused than I already found myself.
Without second guessing myself, I head down the hall and toward his study, knocking on the door that once again sits slightly ajar. “Come in,” he calls out and I do, stepping inside to find him seated in his brown leather chair behind the large mahogany wood desk he’s owned for as long as I can remember. It was a family relic, built by my great grandfather when he first purchased the land that now holds the King Family Ranch.
“May I come in?” I ask, though I’m already walking toward his desk.
“Please, have a seat, Bailey. I was expecting a visit from you. Thought maybe you’d come by tomorrow since you’d already headed to bed. "
The room smells of the cigar’s burning ashes on the tray atop his desk, the cloud of smoke still lingering in the air. “Why were you sure I’d come by?”
“Sweetheart, please don’t patronize your old man. I know you overheard my conversation with Nash Bishop.” He says his name as if he’s disgusted by it, by him. I knew he held a strong hatred toward his family, but this is personal. It can’t only be because of his suspicion that there’s something going on between Nash and me.
I don’t act coy, figuring it will get me nowhere to pretend if my father already suspects there is something bigger with Nash and I. “I’m not sure what I heard. All I know is it didn’t sit right with me to see the two of you in here arguing. Why was Nash in here with you alone?”
Bringing the glass in his hand to his lips, he takes a sip before answering me. “Nash and I have some unfinished business we need to attend to. It doesn't concern you.”
“It does if it’s about me. Tell me the truth dad, are you the reason Nash left Crossroads ten years ago, after he—” I pause, unsure if I should say anymore. What if my father is unaware of what Nash and I did? The real reason he and Jase stopped talking.
“After he defiled you and made a mockery of me and this family.”
“How did you?—”
He scoffs, setting the now empty glass down with a loud thud before approaching me. “Please, sweetheart. Your mama and I were quite aware of your obsession with the boy. I’d even warned Jase about bringing him around. Nothing good would ever come of his friendship with him, but your brother is as stubborn as they come. He trusted him, swore he'd never betray his trust and try anything with you because he’d made him a promise he wouldn't. I should have told your brother then that a promise made by a Bishop is as good as broken.”
Shock riddles my brain as I try to make sense of what my father’s insinuating. “Jase made Nash promise to stay away from me?”
“He did more than that. He warned him away after he found out what he’d done. Jase was the one to exile him from town. All I did was ensure he stayed gone.”
I always suspected it was the truth, but hearing it straight from my father’s lips is something I wasn’t prepared for.
Tear well in my eyes at the betrayal I feel of the two men I’ve loved my entire life. “How could you? You had no idea what I felt for Nash or what he felt for me. You played with my feelings, my life and future, like it was some game to you. I loved him.”
There's no sign or remorse on my father’s face, nothing but the certainty he made the right decision, playing with my life and emotions like it was his right to.
“You were eighteen, Bailey. You had no idea what you wanted to do with your life. Sweetie, you could barely decide what dress to wear to school, let alone decide about your future. Nash Bishop was no good for you, and I knew you wouldn’t listen. So your mama and I did what we had to do to protect you and our family’s reputation.”
“It’s always about that, isn't it? To protect the King family’s image over the happiness of its members.” Full-fledged tears are streaming down my face like salt water rivers threatening to drown us both. “I loved him, daddy. For ten years, I thought of him and nothing else. You had no right. Regardless, you didn’t achieve your goal of making me forget him and move on. If anything, you made me obsess more about why he’d left without saying goodbye.”
But deep down, I know my father isn’t the only one to blame. What could have been so bad that Nash chose not to stay and fight for me, for us?
“What did you threaten him with? Nash wouldn’t have left me, not like that.”
My father’s anger subsides as a sneer, smirk teases his lips. Whatever it was he knows I won’t forgive Nash for, at least it’s what he’s trying to make himself believe.
“You won’t like it, darling, because it didn’t take much. The boy was desperate and money hungry, just like the deadbeat asshole Franklin. I warned him, told him if he knew what was good for him and his brothers and sister, he’d leave town and stay away for good. The difference between Nash and his brothers was that in him, I saw Franklin. He’s just like his father, careless, impulsive and reckless. That is not the kind of man I want anywhere near any daughter of mine.”
“What did you do?” My voice is louder this time. “No bullshit response. I want the truth.”
“One hundred thousand dollars. I wrote him a check for a hundred grand and told him to stay the fuck away from my baby girl.”
I gasp, my entire being trembling as the words leave my father’s lips. Shaking my head, my heart stammering in my ears, I try my best to fight away the panic attack ensuing. “I don’t believe you, Nash wouldn’t.”
“Baileycakes,” he says, calling me by my nickname that feels dirty now as he says it after confessing how he tried to ruin my life out of his own selfish reasons. He reaches for me, but I back away. “How else do you think the boy managed on his own? He was eighteen, left town on nothing but his motorcycle and the clothes on his back. How else would he have survived jobless and penniless on the road?”
It all makes sense, but I refuse to believe it. I know Nash. He isn’t the kind of person to put money over anything. He’s nothing like his father. It’s one of his biggest fears, to one day become his father. I won’t believe it, not without hearing Nash’s side of the story. If I’ve learned anything in all these years, it’s that miscommunication is our biggest enemy.
“It’s true, sweetheart,” my mama says, joining us in the room, having witnessed our entire exchange from the shadows. Lurking in the darkness instead of standing front and center, assuming accountability for her actions, just like everything else Magnolia King has ever done. “I was there. I saw everything. I’m sorry he isn’t the man you thought, Bailey. But it’s best this way.”
“You can’t say that and try to blame it on having my best interest at heart.”
“Look at the woman you became because of him. He left, and you turned into this…” she pauses, biting her tongue for a second before she says something rather unladylike. “Someone I don’t recognize. No daughter of mine would tarnish her body the way you did, turning yourself into a godforsaken coloring book. No daughter of mine would parade around town like some harlot, dressed the way you dress, or work in that sinful hellhole you own.”
“For once in your life, mama, stop hiding behind your self-righteousness and phony Christian values. Thou shalt not judge or condemn and shall forgive. Where’s your humility and compassion for others? You blame him for who I’ve become? I blame you for never treating me the way I deserved to be treated. Not because you needed me to be the perfect daughter you accepted, but for who I was. For once, accept who I am because you love me, because I am your daughter. I love Nash Bishop. I did then and I still do now. There’s nothing the two of you can say or do that will make me think anything less of him. Because I know the man that he is, and it’s not who the two of you see.”
I march out of the room, not waiting to hear their responses because it won't change the way I feel. Nash loves me, and he’d never be capable of trading my love for money. I just have to prove to my parents that they don’t know him the way I do. If only I’d known I didn’t know them either.