Chapter 4
4
SERENITY
O f course, Kimberly wasn't expecting Ranger to show up with anyone when she picked us up from the airport. She also thinks Ranger and I have been dating for several weeks already-- it's as reasonable for her to only have had one guest room prepared as it was for her to assume we wouldn't need two.
You'd think I'd have slept like shit even after it was me that insisted there was room for both of us in the king size bed.
I should have been tossing and turning and feeling awkward with Ranger's long form stretched out beside me.
I slept like a rock.
Maybe it was just exhaustion from a long day of flights, the fact that it's three hours later back home, or the long, hot bath I took after enjoying a delicious, home-cooked meal in Kimberly's massive farmhouse kitchen while letting Ranger field the questions his younger brothers fired off in rapid succession.
Maybe I liked the feeling of Ranger's weight pressing into the mattress, the heat of his body sharing space with mine, and the comforting sounds of his breathing in the dark.
Even if the man did stay a frustrating distance from me all night. Far enough that there was no way I could "accidentally" end up touching him in my sleep. No matter how hard I might have tried.
"What did Singer say?" Ranger's deep voice sounds gruffer today, the bags under his eyes not hidden by the brim of the black Stetson he wore for the funeral. He's been withdrawn, but that's to be expected since we're at his father's funeral and all.
"She's going to text me tomorrow so we can schedule a time to get together." I reply, feeling entirely too comfortable when Ranger's arm drops over my shoulder.
"Good," he says more to himself than to me. "Sing's about your age now, I reckon. You two will likely get on pretty well."
He's right, Singer Kelly is the youngest sibling of the Kelly family and the last one left in Slow River to run her family's ranch. She's a year younger than me at twenty-five, and has managed to pull the historic Walking Y out of bankruptcy by converting it to a bed and breakfast and trading the traditional cattle for Pygora goats and a small herd of alpacas that she raises for wool.
Ranger introduced her to me after the chapel services, when people begin filing into the small reception area in search of snacks and levity.
We instantly hit it off. If I were to move to Slow River for some reason-- I swear, I do not lean into Ranger's side a bit as that thought wafts through my head-- I'm sure we'd be besties.
Ranger has also introduced me to a handful of other people in the crowded space, but he seems to be looking for someone in particular as he guides me out an open side door, toward the sound of male voices laughing loudly between volleys of language not suitable for the occasion.
"Let me introduce you to the Lazy P." Ranger steers toward the colorful language toward a group of men leaning against a tree and passing a flask between them.
This is where we find Ranger's two younger brothers, Archer Dean and Lance, and another man that's introduced as Lynx Savage and I'm wondering if he's connected to the Savage family that owns the U Lance, my youngest brother, is giving hell to Lynx over some girl he hasn't closed the deal with yet; while Archer frowns at Rowan when Row mentions his baby sister's holding a table for us at Virgie's.
It's a damn happy group for a bunch of guys coming from a funeral. But that's how Dad would have wanted it-- his boys all together again, emptying glasses around the table in his honor. He might not have been so supportive of the stories that are about to get told in his memory though. I've got a feeling, with this group of ruffians, there's gonna be a lot of shit talk about the old man going down tonight.
Buck hits a rut in the dirt road that catches Lynx off guard and damn near sends him out of the truck. Lynx pounds on the roof of the cab and gets the finger from Colt, who's riding shotgun with Buck at the wheel.
Seri's arms tighten around my chest where she's been holdin' on for dear life since before the truck started moving.
"No worries there, baby, I've been doing this since Ruger Kelly started driving his dad's old Ford when we were eight years old. It'll take more than the old river road to buck my ass off the back of a truck."
"You were driving at eight?"
The shock on her face makes those turquoise eyes go wide and I've got half a mind to kiss her right then and there just to see her reaction.
Of course, Buck hits another bump in the road as he takes the turn into O'Hare's back lot too fast, forcing me to grip the edge of the truck bed under my ass with one hand and giving me an excuse to hang on to Seri with the other.
My hat almost goes flying, but between the John B. and Seri, I know which one I'd rather have my hands on.
Seri manages to catch the hat, laughing as it topples off my head and she catches it just in time to save me from Beryl's plight—who makes a quick jump and hits the ground with a roll in the dirt when his own hat catches wind and goes sailing.
"Is he okay?"
"No worries," I assure her, as the rest of us unload and head for the bar without waiting up for Bear, "that boy's been fallin' off of bulls since he was three, a little tumble at ten miles an hour ain't likely to be the thing that does him in."
Taking the door from Colt and holding it open for Seri; I take advantage of the opportunity to admire her as she walks past me into the bar's dark interior.
She never did give back my hat, and the way it sits loose on her head with her dark curls hanging in rows down her back has me thinking I should get her a hat of her own.
Then again, there's a visceral kind of reaction swelling up in me at the sight of her in mine. Almost as good as putting a ring on her finger when it comes to making sure every asshole here knows who she belongs to.
She's got another one of her sexy librarian outfits on today, with a dark gray skirt that hugs her curves and a blouse with buttons that oughta be getting hazard pay for the way they're straining to contain those full breasts.
The woman's had me mixed up all morning, for sure. I was proud as punch to introduce her around to everyone at the services as my own, but she's had my head full of thoughts that shouldn't be allowed in church and especially not while we're trying to listen to the pastor give my dad's eulogy.
Funeral's over now though. There's plenty of things to get sorted before I lose her at the end of the week, but for the rest of this day, I'll be shooting whiskey with the guys, toasting-- and roasting-- the old man, and Serenity's still mine as long as the prying eyes of town are on us.
I plan on enjoying that as long as I can.
Placing my hand on the small of her back, I walk through the long hallway lined with old photos, steering Seri into the main saloon up front to where our party's gathering around a wide, round table with Rowan's sister, Callie, Bernadine, and a good dozen or so shots of whiskey already waiting.
Bernie's face breaks into a wicked smile as she eyes us approaching and a shiver runs down my spine as she knocks back a shot without taking her eyes off us.