Chapter 42 Jules
Jules
“Senator Ward! How do you feel about the fall out with your two adult children?” a reporter asks, shoving a microphone into my father’s face on the TV.
To anyone else watching, he looks unaffected and poised as any presidential candidate should look. For me, I can see the tick in his jaw, the hard look in his eyes. He’ll never forgive me and Albie for making him look bad, for making him look like a bad father. We can never go home.
“The campaign trail is a hard one,” he says, ever diplomatic. “It’s taken its toll on my children as it has many before us. We all ask that you respect our privacy at this time and allow them room to breathe. Thank you.”
That’s it. That’s his only response to the live video going viral online. Someone turned the video into a song, a techno version that repeats, “This isn’t over, Juliet,” over and over again. It isn’t bad, but hearing Cash sing it under his breath a million times does make it get old fast.
While the media has been reporting on our fallout, it’s barely glanced over the death of Augustus Harrington, that part of the video edited out during news coverage.
There’d been a single news story about his addiction to cocaine and then nothing.
There wasn’t even a story about our broken engagement and no one came to interview me.
I’m thankful the reporters seem uninterested in that.
I didn’t want to have to lie and play the grieving fiancé.
I’m not sure I could have done that well, so I’d have told the truth.
Clearly, that’s why my father pulled strings to brush the story under the rug.
Otherwise, Steele would be crawling with news vans.
Which would apparently be the second time that’s happened.
Today, we’re in town, the city celebrating being alive, healthy, and rebuilt. All the businesses have their doors open, their owners waving people in. The coffee shop, Ugly Mugz, sports a nice line out the door as people wait for a cup of their amazing brews.
Valerie waves at me from across the street and comes rushing over, a huge grin on her face.
“I hear you’re thinking about running for Mayor of Steele!” she gushes.
“Uh,” I say, confused. “I don’t really know if politics is something I’d like to get into. Not sure where you heard that from.”
She raises her brow. “Honey, it’s in your blood. Besides, Buck Daniels is retiring and we could use someone to help us usher in the new era of Steele being a nationally recognized city.”
“I don’t exactly fit the part,” I point out, gesturing to my tattoos and bright colored hair.
She laughs. “Girl, you’re a Ward. I think you’re exactly what we need.” She pats my shoulder. “Break the chains. Or something like that.” And then she leaves me there, staring after her.
“You gonna run?” Oak asks from beside me, his brows raised.
“I . . . don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I hadn’t even considered it before now.”
“You’d be one fine mayor,” Cash teases. “Would you wear pant suits?”
I grimace. “Maybe.”
Sawyer leans in. “Don’t worry, Mayor Ward. I hear there’s a nice large desk in the mayor’s office, perfect for someone to kneel under and tease.”
The flush starts at my neck and travels until my face feels hot. “That does sound . . . promising.”
Sheriff John appears and I straighten, trying my best not to look hot and bothered.
“Good morning,” I say, too brightly.
“Mornin’,” he replies, smiling. “She’s right you know.
You’d make a great mayor.” He points to a man across the street, one wearing a black suit.
The skin that peeks from the suit is heavily inked and his hair is perfectly styled.
Something about him feels . . . menacing.
“Maybe you can do something about that damn asshole lingering around. I can’t ever link any crimes to him, but I know he’s pullin’ strings. ”
Naomi comes skipping up at that moment, her grin bright. She’s got two mason jars in her hands.
“Moonshine!” Naomi announces. “I’ve got a new flavor this week. Habanero Mango!”
Cash steps backward, his eyes wide. “The last time I drank your moonshine, Naomi, I woke up in the field naked.”
Naomi laughs. “Which sounds like a good time to me! You’ll like this flavor, I promise.”
Sawyer winces. “Doubt it,” he says under his breath.
“What was that?” Naomi asks.
“Nothing,” Sawyer says, louder as he reaches for the mason jar. “You’re too kind, Naomi.”
She beams at him and walks away, off to pass out more moonshine.
“This stuff is horrible,” Oak grumbles. “But she’s so damn sweet, you can’t tell her that. I think the whole town humors her at this point.”
My eyes trace back to the tattooed suit across the street. He watches Naomi intently as she flutters back up to the people beside us.
“That guy with you?” I ask Naomi before she can rush away again. Her eyes follow my gesture and she rolls her eyes.
“Don’t worry about him, darlin’. He’s as harmless as a bunny,” she says, shooting the man a sharp look and wandering off again.
I raise my brows. “I doubt that very much.”
Sheriff John laughs. “You’d be right. I think Lennox has taken a liking to Naomi, but he hasn’t crossed any boundaries yet. All I can do is keep watch.” He tips his hat. “I’ll be seeing you—”
“Oh my god!” a woman interrupts. She’s wearing a “Stagborn Strong” t-shirt, her phone out like she’d been in the middle of recording a video of herself. “Are you the three cowboys from The Velvet Rodeo?”
Oak, Cash, and Sawyer all freeze.
The Sheriff frowns and looks between them and the woman. “The hell is The Velvet Rodeo?”
“Oh my god!” the woman continues. “You are!” She immediately leans in and takes a selfie with their frozen looks of panic. “I’m a huge fan!” she says, grinning.
“I don’t know what is going on,” Sheriff John says, looking at them all. “Someone care to explain?”
I’m sure I’m the color of a tomato as I try my hardest not to start laughing at the awkwardness of it all.
“They only run the best cam channel!” the woman tells the sheriff. “The Velvet Rodeo. It’s super hot. You should check it out.”
“Shit,” Oak grunts, glancing at the others. “So much for being anonymous.”
The Sheriff barks out a laugh. “A cam channel. You’re kidding me.”
Cash shrugs, clearly less embarrassed than the other two. “What? Like you’d expect something more proper from Udder Nonsense Farms?”
Sheriff John laughs. “You ain’t wrong. Though I won’t be checking it out. Sorry, guys. I really don’t want the image of your naked asses tattooed on my brain.”
“Thank god for that,” Oak grumbles. “Maybe don’t tell anyone?”
“Oh, it’s too late for that,” the Sheriff laughs, pointing to the woman. She’s across the street now with a large group of women. We watch her point to us and gush and then move on to the next. “Looks like y’all are about to be extra famous around here.”
Laughter bubbles up my throat and tumbles out, until I’m doubled over with it. The other three join in.
“What a way to launch your bid for mayor of Steele,” Sawyer teases. “We’re gonna have to make some funny campaign signs.”
“I haven’t said I’m going to run yet,” I remind him, still chuckling at how ridiculous this all is.
“I know, but you will,” Oak answers, hugging me close.
“How do you know?” I ask.
Cash and Sawyer come in closer, until I’m surrounded.
“I can see it in your eyes,” Oak murmurs. “You’re about to Legally Blonde all of this.” He leans in. “Imagine the look on your father’s face.”
“Oh, you sure do know how to tempt me, Oakley Grymes,” I tease.
He presses his lips to my neck. “Can I tempt you into something else?”
Grinning, I thread my fingers with his. We rush back to the truck, speeding away from the celebration, confident that everyone is safe for now.
We giggle the entire way.
It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever felt so free . . .