Chapter 7
Colt
“You think she’s going to buy it?” I ask my brother.
Cason snorts while grabbing his keys.
“Probably not, but does it matter? We’ve already got one foot in the fire, so we might as well go full-throttle.”
I nod because my brother’s right. We’re springing a surprise on Kiki today, and it could go well, or it could be a complete clusterfuck. Only time will tell. Meanwhile, I grab the sheet cake that our cook prepped, and then reach for my keys.
“Ready?”
My twin grins.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
With that, we step outside of the Big House and into the sunlight.
Kiki’s already waiting for us by the truck, and the air exits my lungs at the sight of the beautiful blonde because she’s even more gorgeous than I remember.
Her golden hair flows down her back in a luscious wave, and she’s got a tight red and white checked shirt on, as well as a denim mini-skirt which highlights those long legs.
Cowboy boots sheath her toned calves and the finishing touch is a cowboy hat which somehow looks coy and saucy on her, and not at all gimmicky.
I understand that fashion girls like to dress “Western-style” these days, and the result is usually more Coachella than genuine Yellowstone.
But Kiki’s style is authentic, not to mention ravishing.
But there’s a problem because we’re not headed to a party at a neighboring ranch.
Or rather we are, except the shindig’s at our sister Becca’s place, and there are going to be over thirty Madewells there.
It’s a family birthday for her daughter Josie, and Kiki’s a little sexy for our conservative relatives.
“Tell her to go back inside and put more clothes on,” my brother mutters to me under his breath. I shake my head.
“Hell no. How would we even explain without letting the cat out of the bag? No, motherfucker, it’s not going to work.”
“Tell her,” he rasps, those blue eyes eating her up. “Or we’re fucked.”
“You tell her,” I shoot right back. “I’m not risking Kiki’s wrath again. That woman is a fireball, and you’ve seen how shit gets when she’s angry.”
After all, our encounter with Kiki in our home office hasn’t been forgotten. Was it only last week? She was all fury, sparks, and indignation, and we loved it. The young woman is filled with sass and spunk, and it only makes her more attractive in our eyes.
Unfortunately, we haven’t had a chance to interact with her since then.
Kiki moved into the Big House, but we had to leave for a business trip to D.C.
almost immediately, and only got back last night.
Evidently, the President wants to talk to us about running for Governor of Montana in the next election cycle, and we knew better than to blow him off.
Don’t get me wrong because my brother and I have no interest in politics, but it’s never a great idea to anger the big dog, and especially not when he’s got the brain of a ten year old.
As a result, we haven’t been able to talk with Kiki in the week that she’s been with us, but Winston tells us she’s thriving as a ranch hand.
Maybe they haven’t set her on the wildest horses yet, but she’s doing well as the low man on the totem pole.
She doesn’t balk at laboring overnight when there’s a cow in labor, nor mucking out the stalls each morning.
Plus, Kiki’s developed an easy bond with Noodle, a fifteen year old runaway who showed up at our door last year.
That boy is generally shy and withdrawn, but Winston tells us that he opened up right away to Kiki because of her easy manners.
So when she prances over to us, blonde hair flying, I smile.
“Hey sweetheart,” I say. “Ready for the party?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says in an excited voice. “I’m looking forward to getting to know more people out in these parts. Don’t get me wrong because the Double C is great, and everyone’s been friendly. But it’ll be nice to meet some new people.”
“Sure, sure,” my brother responds in a smooth tone while loading the food into the back of his truck. “It’ll be a fun time.”
“Will there be a live band?” she asks with excitement while twirling a blonde lock around one finger. “I always love a good honky tonk.”
I share a look with my twin because they most definitely will not have a live band. The Madewells are wealthy, but modest in our habits. For a child’s birthday party, at most they’ll have some speakers blasting tunes from an iPhone playlist.
“I don’t think so,” I say in a casual tone. “But we’ll see. Hop in,” I add while opening the door to the truck. “We can all fit in the Durango.”
Kiki nods while gracefully stepping into the cab.
“Yeah, Winston told me the guys are going to take their own vehicles, so I guess we’ll meet them there. Cool,” she says with a smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”
I can’t answer because the sweet woman’s ass bounced into view as she clambered up the steps to the vehicle, and I completely lost my train of thought.
Her butt is as round and ripe as a peach, lovingly encased in the tight denim of her mini-skirt.
Her thighs are thick, ivory, and luscious, perfect for biting and stroking.
Damn, I can’t wait to see her on her back, nude and wet with those thighs spread.
Will her vag be a deep pink, glistening and moist, or will it be a lighter pink the color of a dusty rose?
I couldn’t see that night at the club, and suddenly, I’m dying to find out.
Calm the fuck down, the voice in my head snarls.
Kiki has no idea that she’s about to be exposed to your family, who are a judgmental mass of chatterboxes.
Kiki thinks she’s going to a neighborhood block party to dance, drink, and relax.
She has no idea she’s about to be thrown into the viper’s pit.
The voice is right, and grimly, I leap into the cab myself before shutting the door. Cason revs the engine, and within minutes, we’re cruising down the road.
“So how was your trip?” Kiki asks, once we’re safely on the highway. “I heard you went to D.C.?”
“We did,” I say as the truck zooms along the road. “Just taking care of some official business.”
“Official business?” Kiki echoes, one brow quirked in a cute way. “May I ask about what, or is it private?”
My brother and I share a look because we really shouldn’t be talking about our affairs with a girl we just met, but then again, what’s the harm in doing so? We’ve already decided not to run for office, so there’s nothing to “hide” per se.
“The President wanted to chat with us,” Cason drawls.
“Oh, the president of what?” Kiki asks. “Of the National Cattlemen’s Beef Association? The Future Farmers of America?”
“No, the President of the United States,” I say in a smooth tone. “The one who lives in the White House.”
Kiki goes very still.
“Really?” she asks.
“Really,” I answer. “The Big Kahuna himself.”
Again, Kiki is very still on the bench between us, and when I look down, I’m almost undone at the sight of her creamy thighs.
Damn, what I wouldn’t give to have those encircling my neck as I lick her slick pussy.
I want her sighing and breathing my name before she comes hard all over my face, and then I want her to lift her ass and to allow Cason to slide deep into her pussy while I tongue her tiny asshole. That’s how fucked up my fantasies are.
But right now, Kiki’s still processing the fact that we were invited for a private chat with the President.
“May I know what you were speaking about?” she asks in a slow tone. “Or is it top secret?”
“It’s not top secret,” my brother growls in an amused tone, one hand on the steering wheel. “Basically, he wanted to know if we’d be interested in running for political office, but we declined. That kind of shit isn’t our thing.”
“Oh,” Kiki says, a bit flummoxed. “I didn’t know that you were interested in national politics.”
“That’s the point,” I say in a wry tone.
“We’re not. But we’ve served a couple years now as Livestock Commissioner for the State of Montana, which is a real hairy position.
So as the party casts about for a potential gubernatorial candidate, they landed on us, and the President wanted to bend our ear on potentially running for the seat. ”
“Governor of Montana?” Kiki breathes, her eyes wide.
“Yep,” I quip. “Again, the position’s not for us. We’re cattlemen through and through, with a little bit of finance thrown in.”
“Of course,” Kiki states, still trying to process. “The Double C is huge, and it’s a corporation basically. It’s a business that takes a lot of shrewd decision-making and guidance.”
“Absolutely,” Cason says in an easy tone. “The ranch is a huge business.” Then, my bro shoots me a glance and I nod. It’s time to strategically show some of our cards, seeing that we’re about to introduce Kiki as our girlfriend.
“Actually, we don’t make all of our money from ranching,” my twin says in a casual tone. “The cattle business can be a money loser, and it’s a good year if we’re breaking even.”
Kiki gets a confused look, her brows going downwards on that pretty forehead.
“So you’ve been losing money each year?” she asks.
“Not every year,” I answer. “But sometimes. Occasionally. We stay afloat though, because of our financial dealings.”
“You mean cattle futures?” she asks, even more confused now. “Or the land itself, right? This ranch is vast, and you’re likely leasing parcels and getting rental income.”
“No, we don’t receive any rental income,” I respond. “I understand some cattlemen have turned to that, but we keep our land for our own use. No, what I mean is that we trade in crypto, and most of our wealth is held in financial markets.”
There’s a stunned silence before it’s broken.
“You’re crypto bros?” Kiki says in a disbelieving tone. “Are you serious?”
My brother winks.