Chapter 6
Beckett
She didn’t stay around for the show. Instead, she is standing by her grey Dodge dually waiting on me, her tight Wranglers hugging her ass, her hands on her hips, not one bit of amusement on her face.
Hmmm, Carson’s baby sister. Last time I saw Lacey, she was about twelve or thirteen years old, had braces, and annoyed the shit out of us most of the time. My, how things have changed—drastically.
I walk from the cottage, past the barn, and by the time I am getting closer to her truck, I grin, “Didn’t want to wait for me inside the cottage? I wouldn’t have been much longer.”
She snarls, “Not very professional of me to do so.”
Smirking I say, “Oh, but you wanted to?”
She doesn’t blink and no emotion is read on her face. Instead, she opens her driver’s door and gets in, slamming the door behind her. I chuckle under my breath and walk around to the passenger side, pulling up on the handle and taking a seat myself.
This reaction from a woman is not normal for me. Most are falling over their words, smiles reaching their ears, and begging for a piece of my time.
Lacey Taylor looks like she wants to be anywhere else but with me right now.
“You’re not the girl I remember.”
Putting the Dodge in drive, we ride halfway down the driveway before she speaks to me. “What? The little girl with braces and acne, who hadn’t hit puberty yet changed and grew up? She grew an ass, boobs, and a mind of her own. How shocking.”
“Still have that smart ass mouth though.”
“My daddy taught me to take no shit off of anyone.”
And just the thought of Holden makes my stomach turn. I didn’t come back for his funeral. Honestly, I didn’t know about it until a week later. So instead, I drank my sorrows away in a bar somewhere out West or wherever I was at the time and thought about all the memories I had with him.
He was the only father figure I knew, and I didn’t get to say goodbye. The last time I called him was . . . not my best moment.
“So, tell me Beckett. How is it that you found the time to be here for mom’s funeral but not dads?”
“Wasn’t aware until a week after when my agent asked me if I knew this guy that had passed away from my old hometown,” I tell her truthfully, there’s no use in lying to her.
Lacey’s eyes snap to mine for a brief second before turning back to the road as we enter downtown.
The streets are busy with shoppers at fruit stands, the farmers’ co-op, the local florist, and hair salons.
I forgot how small a town like Honeysuckle was.
Everyone knew everyone and more times than not, they either all went to high school together or baby sat each other’s children.
Lacey pulls up right in front of the Honeysuckle lawyer’s office on Main Street. My eyes roam to her, “My guess is you are reading her will today.”
Lacey turns the truck off, her white knuckles clutching the steering wheel, and she nods. That’s all, she doesn’t speak, she doesn’t hum, she just nods.
“I don’t know how long I will be here,” she finally states. “So, if you need a ride home don’t go too far from the truck.”
“Thanks for the ride, sugar,” I wink at her.
“Please get out before I use the pretty little teal toy in the side of my door to make you.”
I smirk; Lacey Taylor would have a pistol in the side of her driver’s door and honestly, I wouldn’t put it past her to use it if she is anything like her father.
Opening the truck door, I step out. I hear Lacey’s door close next, and she walks inside the lawyer’s office without another look at me.
Pulling up my phone, I double check the address the unknown number sent me and type it into my Google Maps. My eyes widen when I realize the place I am needing to be is also the same place Lacey just went in.
This can’t be a coincidence.
“Thought I told you to leave.” Carson’s voice comes walking up the sidewalk.
“Had a few things to take care of first,” I tell him coldly.
“You are not wanted here, King. Get the fuck out of Honeysuckle.”
I step toward him, our noses almost touching, “Or what? You know I could take you in any fight. I have before.”
His eyes darken, “I won’t tell you again, King. I am not the guy you remember. Losing your parents changes you.”
“Don’t I fucking know it,” I growl back. “But wait, I lost mine way before they died.”
Carson shakes his head, walking around me and opens the door to go inside the lawyer’s office, “I mean it King, leave.”
“Nah, think I may wait on Lacey to give me a ride to the ranch later.”
His nose is touching mine before I had time to blink. I knew that would get a rise out of him. “Don’t fucking go anywhere near my sister. She has been through enough.”
“From what I saw yesterday, she is a grown woman now. How about you let her make her own decisions, brother dearest.”
“I haven’t been your brother for a long time.”
“Maybe not by blood but we swore an oath, Carson.”
“Yeah, well, when your best friend is the reason your father falls over with a heart attack, I guess that voids the whole thing.”
Wait. What?
He doesn’t say anything else before walking inside, the door shutting behind him. I stand outside for a few more minutes, giving Carson time to get where he is going and gather my own thoughts.
What did he mean by that? I was not anywhere near Holden when he passed. I didn’t even know he was dead until a week later.
Grabbing the handle, the door swings open, allowing a black receptionist desk to come into view. “Hey, sugar,” I tell the receptionist once inside.
An older lady with white pixie-cut hair, black glasses, and a yellow sundress looks up at me, a smile spreading across her face. “Is that who I think it is?”
She stands, running around the counter and embracing me in a hug. “You finally came back home.”
“Good to see you, Mrs. Gillard.” I hug her back.
Mrs. Gillard used to be a lunch lady at our elementary school decades ago; what she is doing here, I have no idea.
“When did you start working here?” I ask her clearly out of the loop.
“Marcus owns it now. Wonderful for a son to hire his old mother to do his reception work, huh?” she chuckles. “Of course, he doesn’t pay me. I just help out every once in a while. His receptionist is out sick this week.”
Marcus was a friend of Carson’s when I first moved here.
We all three graduated together and hung out from time to time.
He went off to some big university after our high school graduation and I had heard he was studying to become lawyer.
I guess he got the degree and brought it back home to continue helping his people.
“What are you doing here, sweetheart? Did you have an appointment?” She walks back over to her desk looking though the appointment schedule.
“No ma’am. I was told to be here today.”
She looks at me funny, “Do you know who you spoke with?”
An older man, maybe in his sixties, walks out of an office adjacent to the receptionist desk and takes his cowboy hat off showing his face. “I did.”
“Mr. Jamison?” My once mentor and bull riding coach is staring back at me in a suit and tie.
“I don’t understand,” I question him and look back at Mrs. Gillard.
“Marcus married my daughter, Becca,” he smiles. “So, I get to help here from time to time when he needs it. He gave me the opportunity to message you about coming today.” He gestures towards the staircase, “Come with me. I will take you to where you need to go.”
I follow him quietly up the stairs, wondering what the hell is going on.
When we arrive at the top of the stairs where the first door is on the left, I hear a man talking behind it. Mr. Jamison stops at the door and whispers, “Have an open mind and be kind to those around you. There’s some big news you are about to hear.”
He pats me on the back and walks himself back down the stairs.
Opening the door three people sit at the conference table.
Marcus, Lacey, and my ex best friend—Carson Taylor.