Chapter Seven

Keane stared up at the bright neon light that

proclaimed this space to be The Barn. And it looked a lot like one except there

was rocking music coming out of it and a whole bunch of people partying inside.

“Do you want to set a pickup time, boys?” Gwen had the front

window of the station wagon down, and sure enough his old friend Muffin was

looking out beside her. The dog had switched to her lap after he got out of the

car. “My business closes down at eight. Muffin needs her beauty sleep.”

Garrett looked around the parking lot and then walked off,

leaving him to hand Gwen a twenty-dollar bill.

He wasn’t sure how Muffin was alive. This time around he and

Garrett had gotten a long recitation of everything that was wrong with that

dog.

Anxiety, bad knees, perpetual weird sneezes, terrible

breath, and whatever made her eyes so bugged out.

But he kind of liked that she liked him. Maybe it wouldn’t

be terrible to have a dog. A working dog. A shepherd or a retriever.

And he also kind of liked Gwen. She was weird. He liked

weird. Huh. It was funny that he spent so much time trying to survive and then

trying to keep his job and please everyone around him so he didn’t fuck things

up for Garrett, that he had never considered what he liked outside of sex and

food.

He liked dogs and weird people. “Ms. Gwen, we’ll make our

way from here. I think Garrett already found what we’re looking for.”

They were looking for the vehicle their pretty princess had

sped away in.

“It’s the same SUV from the security footage.” Garrett

jogged up. “She’s still here. I checked the plate and it matches.”

It had been hours since Olivia walked out on them, and Keane

was equal parts ready to leave and ready to spank her ass silly and explain why

she was never going to do that again.

She ran. She’d been on the edge of agreeing to Garrett’s

proposal but she’d run, and wasn’t that interesting.

Olivia Barnes-Fleetwood was a badass bitch who took no crap

from anyone.

Unless her heart was involved. He’d talked to several of the

hands who adored her. They said she was a fair boss and genuinely thoughtful, but

they knew she sometimes had a hard time with the men she negotiated with. She

was used to hard negotiations when it came to business.

So why run?

The part of himself that was still an eight-year-old kid

trying to survive the day thought she’d run because she didn’t want him.

The confident man who knew how to read a sub was starting to

think she’d run for the opposite reason.

So they’d done some research, and lucky for them the

household security cams weren’t all that hard to break into. Garrett wasn’t a

hacker, per se, but he had some skills.

And Keane was the one who went to prison. Lucky him.

“Any idea who the women at the door were?” Keane asked.

“I think it’s Trev McNamara’s daughter and Gigi Dawson. You

haven’t met Win Dawson and his wife, Naomi, yet, but I’ve had a couple of

meetings with him. From what Bobby told me they’re some of Olivia’s closest

friends.”

So safety had shown up and she bolted.

He should have taken that as her answer and headed to the

bunkhouse, but he’d caught sight of a picture of her as a kid all wild hair and

happy smiles. Josh had stood in the background, obviously younger but far more

serious and stern than his sister. Jack and Sam and Abby had looked on at their

kids, but it was clear that Olivia was the sun in the sky.

When was the last time Olivia Barnes-Fleetwood had that

carefree smile on her face? He knew the answer. It was the night before when

she let herself go. He would bet a lot that she rarely let herself go that way.

But they had gotten her there. Briefly. They could do it

again.

When he figured out she needed him, he put aside his

protective barriers and decided it was time to take her at her word. She wanted

them to help her. Well, he was going to help her.

“Did you ask Bobby about them?” Keane asked. They had

exchanged numbers the night before. Bobby was a protective friend who wanted

all the information he could have since Olivia wanted none. So when she ran,

Garrett had texted.

It took a while, but the guy texted back and he seemed

concerned.

“He said she’s not usually like this. He said she usually

stands her ground and fights when she needs to. I think he was worried about

her. Especially when I mentioned the name Scott,” Garrett explained. “It was a

bad time, apparently. Bobby said maybe we should go back to Olivia’s and cook

her dinner and wait for her to come home. She’s probably nervous.”

“So she goes out drinking with her friends?” Keane opened

the door, and raucous music blasted through him. The Barn was hopping for a

Sunday night. It was a luxurious roadhouse trying to fit in with touches of a

broke-down bar. The trouble was Keane had been to actual broke-down bars, and

this place was pretending. Inside there were groups of women chatting over

margaritas and a bunch of guys staring at the Rangers game on the big screen

while they downed beers and talked about the coaching staff.

“Like we haven’t hit a bar before when times are tough,”

Garrett shot back, having to talk louder over the music.

He didn’t think this qualified as tough times. Her ex was

back, but she had a plan and they were willing to go along with it.

“We were in the middle of a discussion.” That was what truly

bugged him. She hadn’t told them she needed time to think about what they were

offering. She hadn’t given them her own plan. Hadn’t explained that she would

like to talk this whole thing through with her friends. Hadn’t even told them

good-bye. Just left them sitting there like idiots.

He was going to have such fun slapping that gorgeous ass of

hers.

They had barely gotten to real discipline the night before,

and she seemed to love it. He could give her so much more.

If he could find her in this place. It looked huge. There

seemed to be a couple of different bars and a part of the building that served

as a sit-down restaurant, and apparently a dance hall, if all the hooting and

hollering was any indication. It was a massive East Texas redneck paradise.

Which was different from the town. They’d taken a tour of the town, and it

seemed quiet and a little uptight. While Gwen had driven them around Olivia’s

regular haunts, she’d imparted an enormous amount of wisdom about Willow Fork.

And by wisdom he meant gossip.

“And she got scared.” Garrett stopped him before they could

get to the hostess station. “She needs time. Maybe we should listen to Bobby. I

think we shouldn’t push her.”

But she was begging for it. If she didn’t want to be pushed,

she would have explained calmly that she needed to think about the situation

and she would have gotten her purse and her cell phone. Instead, she’d run away

like a bride who figured out she wasn’t ready to get married. She created

drama, and from what he could tell that wasn’t something she did most of the

time.

So deep down he suspected this was some kind of a test. Even

if she didn’t realize it was.

Bobby might know her, but he didn’t know the sexual side of

the woman, the intimate side, the submissive side.

It occurred to him that Olivia had been left behind by a lot

of men she cared about. Not her family. They were solid, but just because she

had wonderful fathers didn’t mean other men hadn’t hurt her. It didn’t mean she

wasn’t reluctant to throw her whole self into a new relationship.

She had men who loved and adored her, but none who spoke to

her submissive side. This felt like a plea for discipline to him. If she was

rejecting them, she would say it. She wouldn’t sugarcoat it. She wouldn’t

hesitate. She would kindly tell them it wouldn’t work for her.

That wasn’t what she had done.

“Hello. Welcome to The Barn,” a cheery hostess said. She was

dressed in jeans and a Western shirt, a pink cowboy hat on her head. She might

be twenty. Maybe. “Would you like a seat in the bar or the dining hall? We have

a short wait on the dining hall, but the bar has some spots since karaoke

already started, and the special tonight is the best brisket you’ve ever had.

Also, the beer of the week is a lager.”

“That actually sounds pretty good,” Garrett began. “I

checked the fridge and it feels like no one’s been to the store.”

He was always hungry. Keane ignored him. They were on a

mission. “Have you seen Olivia Barnes-Fleetwood?”

The petite hostess’s eyes widened. “Of course. She’s a

regular around here. You know her father is the reason The Barn opened in the

first place.” She gestured to a large portrait that hung behind the hostess

station. It was four people, three men and a woman. Two of them were very

familiar. Jack and Sam. They stood in front of a building that was somewhat

similar to the one they were in now, only much smaller and without all the luxuries.

“Her dad owns the place?” Garrett asked.

Keane was pretty sure Jack Barnes owned most of this world,

and anything he didn’t Julian Lodge did. It was something that should scare him

more than it did.

“A part of it. My parents own the other part,” the young

woman explained and then cleared her throat and seemed to go into a rehearsed

speech. “The Barn was established over twenty years ago when two ranchers

sought a nice place to have a beer without the judgment of the community. Mr.

Fleetwood had some trouble in town, and Mr. Barnes came up with a solution. To

build their own watering hole. They reached out to a couple with experience

running a bar and were surprised to discover that despite Willow Fork’s

reputation for sobriety, there was a thirst for beer that had been unquenched

to that point. So The Barn opened on unincorporated land to get around the

local alcohol laws. We like to think of it as our own speakeasy.”

“Speakeasys are private,” Garrett pointed out. “This place

is not.”

It definitely wasn’t. It was crowded and rowdy, and where

the hell was his sub? Not that she was his sub. His temporary sub, if she said

yes.

She was making him crazy, and normally he would say that was

a bad thing, but he felt more alive than he had in…ever.

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