Chapter Six - Reese
CHAPTER SIX
Reese
I run toward the old camper where I know Briggs will be. Ever since he promised Kaylee he’d turn the dilapidated thing into sufficient lodging for a teen girl, he’s been cleaning up the surrounding area and planning out layouts for when five years lapses and it’s ours to start renovating.
And I would help him if I didn’t think it was the world’s dumbest fucking idea. If you gave me my own place at sixteen years old, then I would have a lot more people calling me daddy, and not in the sexy way.
But none of that matters anymore, because the impossible has happened.
“Hey bud,” I smack him on the back of his head when he doesn’t notice me behind him. Sweat is dripping down his shirtless back as he pulls a vine out of the ground that’s creeping up the metal walls. Sunny lazily gets up from her spot in the shade to come say hi.
Briggs removes his earbuds, and I can hear Slipknot blasting out of them.
“There better be a fire or in ten seconds you’re going to start helping me. ”
“Why would I help you with something that is blatantly a horrible idea?” This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation, but I really feel like I can’t stress it enough.
“Because it will make Kaylee happy.” He wipes the sweat from his brow, leaving a smear of dirt behind.
“Eating filet mignon wrapped in bacon every day would make me happy, but I don’t do it, do I?”
“No fire? Alright then. Ten, nine-” He counts as if he could actually make me do anything I don’t want to do.
“Worse than a fire. None of this even matters, anyway. Colt just texted us, saying he’s on the way back to the ranch with Hollywood.”
It takes a moment for Briggs to comprehend what I’m saying.
“Shit,” he finally relents. “What the hell is she doing back here?”
Hollywood is our nickname for Blaire Evans. Calling her Blaire without the Evans feels too intimate for a celebrity like her. But her full name also feels too formal. So we have our own little nickname for the woman that tears our life apart every time she enters it. I wasn’t exaggerating that she’s worse than a fire. At least I can extinguish a fire, but there isn’t a damn thing we can do about the damage Hollywood inflicts.
“Colt wasn’t exactly generous with the details,” I say as the familiar rattle of Colt’s vintage Dodge truck gets closer. “But it sounds like we’re about to find out.”
We walk to the door and sure enough, there she is, riding shotgun in his truck. Both of them are staring ahead like they just left a damn funeral. I’m guessing the ride wasn’t full of lively chatter about the good old days.
We walk towards the truck as Blaire swivels in her seat and gracefully extends her long legs out of the car. She’s dressed in what I’m guessing is some weird celebrity fashion that looks like she slaughtered a cow on her way to attend a cult. But even draped in the ridiculous white and red splotched fabric, she looks like she owns the world. Her shoulders push back as she straightens herself out and her head lifts high. The sun highlights her elegant cheekbones and button nose while bringing out the red in her long auburn hair. Fuck, just seeing her again makes me lose my breath. It also makes me want to knock one out with the big fellow when I’m alone later and I really shouldn’t be doing that to the image of an engaged woman.
“Hey Hollywood,” the ground crunches under my feet as I take a step closer to her. “And what do we owe the pleasure of you visiting our cute little town?”
Yeah, I’m not above using her words against her. The woman has been missing in action for five years. She doesn’t get to just waltz in and expect us all to sing kumbaya like we’re a part of that cult she looks like she just came from.
She rolls her eyes. “I know of all people, you’re not actually offended by that.”
“Oh?” I cock my head as I take a step closer. “It’s been a while. How much do you actually still know about me?”
Her eyes meet mine, ready for the challenge. I’m glad to see that the fight is still in her, simmering under the perfectly composed media darling.
“Because I know you’re as stubborn as those bulls you like to ride, and that doesn’t go away so easily.”
The corner of my lips pulls up in a crooked grin. “Well, at least you remember that I love riding stubborn things.”
Pink flashes across her cheeks, and in that moment, I know I still got her. She might be engaged to America’s prettiest pretty boy, but her blood still works for me.
“I’ve just come to get my Gram’s camper.” She straightens herself out. “You won’t have to worry about me much longer. ”
“Oh?” Briggs cocks his head in genuine confusion. I see Blaire trying to actively not look below his neck at his shirtless chest. “And just how do you think you’re going to get that out of here?”
“Nice to see you, too, Briggs. Man, you three really know how to make a lady feel welcome.” She shakes her head as she makes her way to the gigantic silver bullet that reminds us of her every time we see it.
We all lean back and watch because there is no way in hell we’re missing this show. What does she think she’s going to do? Pop the hood open and get it working in no time? Briggs has worked days just to clear the weeds off of it.
She fumbles with the door, but it’s locked.
“Keys on top of the front tire.” Briggs says flatly.
She takes a deep breath and heads to the front tire and returns to the door without so much as a glance back at us. She opens it up and immediately I see her shoulders go rigid.
“How’s it lookin’?” I say, not hiding the entertainment from my voice.
“Good,” she says unconvincingly. “Just in need of some modern touches and it will be good as new.”
“Mhm,” Colt mutters under his breath as he leans further back against the hood of his truck, getting comfortable.
She disappears into the trailer and I spot her in the front where the driver’s seat is. That damn thing can’t smell great at this point.
She pushes the key into the ignition. She’s out of her mind if she thinks there is a chance the engine will start. It’s been sitting for five years untouched and was barely touched in the last years of her Gram’s life. A dead battery is just the start of her problems. But I don’t expect her pretty chauffered butt to know a thing about something like that.
Speaking of chauffeurs, where is hers? It just dawns on me that the usual team that swarms around her isn’t here. I don’t think I’ve seen her go this long without at least fielding a call from her she-devil agent.
Blaire appears again at the door, this time with all that confidence and bravado looking a bit lackluster.
“Okay, well I’ll get a mechanic to look at it,” she looks back hesitantly. “I guess I can just stay here for a little until he gets here.”
“That’s not just a day’s fix,” Colt points out.
“Yeah,” she nods, looking more and more uncomfortable. “Of course not. Well, I’ll be completely out of your hair here until it can drive. You won’t even notice me.”
She is so out of her depth. She has no idea what she’s even suggesting right now.
“Are you talking about spending the night there? There’s no running water in that.” Briggs points out the bare minimum of issues with her idea.
“Right,” she says, biting her bottom lip anxiously, and I can see her mind racing. Normally, it would be an easy decision. She would head back to Hollywood and hire a team of professionals to take on this project. It’s not like she doesn’t have the money. But I know it’s more complicated than that because I know her Gram and what she wanted for Blaire. We’ve been waiting for Hollywood’s princess to show up on our doorstep. I just didn’t think it would take five years for her to fulfill her Gram’s wishes.
She just stands there looking like she’s completely lost.
Finally, Colt takes a deep sigh and stares right at her. “Just cut the bullshit, Hollywood. We know your Grandma wanted you to fix this up yourself. But showing up in Solace Springs without the fan club of employees that follows you around doesn’t seem like a smart choice. Do you even know how to call a mechanic? Hell, do you even know how to drive?”
He’s a man of few words, but when he uses them, they always cut right to the bone .
“I don’t owe you an explanation.” She marches towards the trunk and hops up onto the wheel to grab her suitcase. She tugs at it but can’t lift it, so she tugs harder and loses balance. Colt is right behind her and steadies her by the waist. An unexpected flash of envy roils through me at his hands on her.
“Now, what are you trying to do?” He asks dryly, like she’s a fly in his honey.
“I’m getting my things so I can call a taxi.” She huffs as she steps down from the tire and tries a different tactic by going around to the back of the truck.
Colt sighs and lifts her ridiculously large luggage up out of the truck bed in one easy motion and starts walking toward the ranch.
“Hey!” She shouts at him and paces after him. “What are you doing?”
“Bringing your luggage to the guest room.” He says, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world.
Briggs and I look at each other in the same way I imagine the staff of the Titanic did when they accepted it was going down.
“And why on earth would you do that?” She says, a bit out of breath as she catches up to him.
“I might not care about what happens to you, Hollywood, but your Gram meant something to us. And around here, we don’t forget that as easily as they might where you’re from.”