4. Chapter 4
Chapter four
Laiken
“Behave. Both of you.” I point a finger at my mom as Sasha revs up the engine to her Porsche.
Husband number three died eight months ago and left her with a hefty bank account.
I’m assuming that’s what’s funding their new ride and the majority of this trip.
I know Mom’s salary at the Silver Ridge Assisted Living Facility isn’t mediocre, but a month-long vacation is going to cost them.
Which is why I’ve insisted on paying half of the bills for the last year.
For the longest time, she refused to let me.
I am her baby, and she’ll take care of me until she leaves this earth, is what she would say when I offered.
But something had to give. I’m a twenty-five-year-old single mother, for heaven’s sake.
I’m grown and brought another human along with me when I gave birth at the na?ve age of nineteen.
I had no clue what to do with a baby and definitely didn’t plan on doing it alone.
Mom squeezes me in a tight hug before climbing in beside Sasha.
“We’ll call if we need bail money!” Sasha giggles like a schoolgirl, winking so hard she almost loses a fake eyelash.
“You might want to call Maddox.” I chuckle.
They both wave and pull out of the drive. I head back inside the house. The old farmhouse may be chipped and worn, but her bones are good. And she’s ours.
The screen door slams against the frame behind me as I step back into the entryway.
Trace is already dressed in his cowboy armor. Wrangler jeans, a plain white T-shirt, his scuffed-up boots, and a cowboy hat. It’s 7 a.m.
A rerun of the Pbr finals plays on the TV screen, the crowd cheering when a rider lasts the full eight seconds.
“Did you see that, Mama?” Trace climbs on top of the makeshift bull and chute my brother Maddox made him.
It’s standing proud in the middle of our hazardous living room.
“I’m gonna be at the Pbr one day.” He settles on the empty barrel, one leg over each side as he shoves his tiny hand in the rope tied around the outside.
“Just like Parker,” he adds before he tosses a hand up, then nods at an invisible person across the room.
Parker.
I almost forgot about his stupid therapy.
His stupid hurt shoulder.
His stupid pretty eyes.
“You hungry?” I ask, turning away from my son, who proceeds to pretend he’s being tossed around by a destructive animal in the middle of twenty unpacked boxes.
“Pancakes!” he shouts.
Good. That should keep my mind busy. “Coming right up!”
Twenty minutes later, pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs cover the thrifted kitchen table.
An empty plate sits across from me after Trace inhaled the contents then escaped back to the living room.
I’ve just sat down to eat mine when a knock sounds at the screened door, followed by a singsong voice.
“Good morning, Red!”
I drop my fork onto my plate as Dakota saunters through the doorway with Ivy Mayson following close behind.
Dakota Sterling is a don’t bug me before 8 a.m. kind of girl, so the fact that she is fully clothed and all smiles in my house almost thirty minutes from the ranch at this hour is alarming. And suspicious.
I narrow my eyes. “You’re out of bed before eight. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just thought we’d stop by. We were in town.” She snatches a piece of bacon off the platter and falls into the lawn chair next to me.
Kitchen chairs are on this list of need-to-get items. For now, folding lawn chairs do the job.
I move my gaze to Ivy. My other best friend, who can’t tell a lie even if she tried.
“Ivy?”
She tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear before she lowers herself to the chair across from me. “We wanted to check on you. After the…” She glances at Dakota.
“Heated conversation in my yard yesterday.” Dakota lifts a brow. “With a certain bull rider.”
Groaning, I drop my head back.
“I’m assuming you told Ivy.” I force my head back up. “And does the entire family know by now?”
“No.” Ivy grins. “But I’m sure by lunchtime your altercation with my cousin will be front-page news.”
“It was not an altercation.” I fidget with my hands before picking up a slice of bacon. “It was…”
“Tense,” Dakota finishes. “I’ve never seen you that mad, Laik. What happened?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
Dakota rolls her eyes. “Try again. I snuck around the side of the house and heard bits and pieces.”
“You would Kota.” Ivy snorts.
“Oh, come on. Like you wouldn’t.”
Ivy places a hand on the small bump at her stomach. “No, because I respect people’s privacy.”
“Says the woman who was walking around naked in her ex-boyfriend’s brother’s house.” Dakota snickers.
“That was a misunderstanding,” Ivy defends.
“And clearly worked out,” I point out since my best friend is currently carrying my soon-to-be niece or nephew.
“Don’t deflect,” Kota snaps. “Spill.”
I huff out a breath. They won’t leave till I give them something. Just not everything. That opens up another can of worms I’m not ready to wrangle.
“Parker is paying me ten thousand dollars to be his personal PT trainer for the next six weeks.”
There, I said it.
Ivy blinks. “I’m sorry. What?”
Dakota grins, a sneaky smile blooming across her face.
I shoot a glare her way. “What is that look for?”
“Oh, nothing,” she coos. “I know you won’t tell us now….”
She knows me too well.
“But I can’t wait to hear how bad he screwed up to grovel like this,” she muses.
Steeling my spine, I lift my chin. “There’s nothing to grovel for. I have zero ties to Parker Stillwater.”
Even as I say the words, I taste the bitter lie on my tongue.