Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Nash
T he woman is going to drive me fucking mad, and she ain’t even mine to worry about. But she may just end up being mine to tame.
Ten minutes of torture not so quickly pass us by as we pull up to the wooden gates of her daddy’s ranch. The initial’s BK welded onto the enormous front doors welcome you to the two hundred acre property which houses not only Bailey’s family home—a large plantation style estate complete with two smaller properties her two brothers live in—but a cattle ranch on one side and horse stables on the other.
It’s been so long since I stepped foot on this ranch, a place I once considered my second home, though I wasn’t always welcome. That much wasn’t any different back at my parent’s home. Regardless, the nights Jase and I spent out here on the open land, smoking, drinking and getting into trouble, were nostalgic, to say the least. Though most nights were spent on my family’s property, the time we spent out here was special in its own way.
Mainly because I’d get to see her. The sweet, shy and troublesome Bailey was always nearby, hoping to be seen, aching to be tainted by my touch. She thought she was slick, but the giggles we’d hear in the darkness from Billie and her let us know when they were near.
The sun is nearly set on the horizon, lighting up the sky in beautiful dark shades of orange, red, and purple. The thundering of the motor beneath us comes to a smooth halt as we approach the property doors and find two men wearing cowboy boots on their feet and hats to match, standing at the front of the gates. They’re King’s guard dogs, men he put out here to ensure no one comes trespassing on their land. They were always around and most of the fun I had out here was sneaking away from them.
The rifles in their hands prove they don’t fuck around. “Looks like your daddy’s just as paranoid as always.”
Bailey takes off the helmet as she looks over at the two men who recognize her instantly. Their eyes go wide in surprise as they take in the gorgeous temptress in red silk that makes their jaws drop. Because mine sure as fuck did.
The moment I saw her in that sinful dress that dips so low in the front it should be illegal, I damn near lost all my self-control. Her perfect breasts sit high on her chest, draped in the delicate fabric that’s fitted over her like a second skin. My eyes were glued to the taut little peaks pushing against the silk underneath, proving what I already assumed—she isn’t wearing a fucking bra. My blood boils at the thought of someone else, like these two fuck heads, seeing them too.
“Howdy, Miss King,” the burlier of the two fellas, one I recognize, says as he tips his hat in her direction. Eyes up, fucker, or you’ll lose them.
Bailey clears her throat and takes on this sweet little drawl I’ve never heard before. “Hey there, Jake. It’s good to see you again, love.” Love . What the actual fuck? I look over my shoulder and find the damn woman smiling at me like she knew that would piss me the fuck off.
The asshole, Jake, has the nerve to wink at her before clicking some remote in his hand that opens the automated doors. “Your pops is looking for you, darling. Has us out here on the lookout. Though, he never mentioned you’d have yourself this fancy ride.”
Jake Macallan, some fucking horse loving cowboy fucker I went to high school with, looks over at me unimpressed. Or maybe it’s jealousy I’m seeing since I’m the one with the sexy little cowgirl on the back of my bike.
“Macallan,” I mutter curtly.
His jaw grows tense as greedy eyes connect with mine. “Bishop, fancy seeing you around here.” Yeah, I fucking bet it is. Though I don’t get to keep the conversation going.
“Drive,” Bailey says, leaning forward to whisper in my ear.
I clench my jaw to not say something to the asshole that’ll make him shoot me and rev up the engine. “Put the damn helmet back on.” Bailey obeys with a sassy roll of her eyes, and the moment she does, I don’t wait for Jake’s signal before speeding off onto the dirt road leading up to the estate.
Bailey instructs me to pull up to the front of the large red barn where this so-called dinner party is being held, tires screeching as they kick up dirt, skidding to a halt.
Though I don’t get the chance to get off my bike before the barn doors swing open, revealing Billie, Monroe and Bailey’s not so little sister, Brynn. The brat was fourteen the last time I saw her—thick hair and mouth full of braces. But now, she’s a beautiful young woman with light brown hair and honey brown eyes to match it.
Though her beauty is nothing compared to Bailey’s sultry perfection.
“Bailey, oh my God!” Brynn exclaims, rushing to her sister’s side. “You rode in on the back of his motorcycle. God, I haven't been this excited in years.” Brynn damn near claps in the pretty dress she wears that’s quite modest and nothing like the one Bailey’s wearing.
Bailey shushes her sister as she tries, and fails, to dismount the bike.
With a hand on her waist and another on her lower back, I keep Bailey from moving. “Not so fast, Angel. You could barely put any weight on it when we left your apartment.”
“Angel,” Brynn swoons, letting out a long, dreamy sigh. Inwardly cursing myself for the public slip up, I release a low grumble. Last thing I need is for Brynn King, the chatty little thing that she is, to go spreading rumors about how I called her sister Angel. She’s the protégé of the gossip queen of Crossroads herself, Billie Cole.
“Bailey, are you okay?” This time it’s Monroe who asks as she rushes to her best friend's side, though not before giving me one of those looks only she knows how to give. Dark blue eyes glare daggers in my direction, as if I’m the one who pushed her best friend in those death trap shoes and made her sprain her ankle.
Bailey kicks up her leg to show off her swollen ankle in the fluffy pink slipper, that was the only thing that fit. She winces in pain at the movement, just as the earth around us goes eerily silent.
There are no trees whistling in the breeze or music playing in the distance. Nothing but the loud thud of boots as Bismarck King approaches, stopping right before us, one hand in his pocket, another holding a cigarette to his mouth. The look of utter discontent the man gives me would make a lesser man cower down. It’s a good thing I’m no longer a fucking coward.
The group crowded around us falls silent. Faces painted with confusion, curiosity and utter terror as they diligently watch our interaction. There’s an audible gasp, only I’m not sure who it's from. The air is thick with anticipation as everyone is eager to see what happens next.
However, the man in question doesn’t show his cards. Mayor King’s angry gaze zeroes in on my hand currently resting on his daughter’s lower back but he remains calm, not wanting to cause a scene. “Bailey, you finally made it,” he says, forcing a smile to conceal the rage growing inside him.
“Hi Daddy,” Bailey squeaks like a nervous little girl, trying to push away from me but I tighten my grip to keep her in place. I really thought she’d outgrown the wholesome daddy’s little girl act, but he’s always had a talent for instilling fear into people. I’ve dealt with men much scarier than him and am no longer intimidated by whatever threats he throws my way.
His wife follows closely behind, elegantly dressed in a long ivory gown, fresh flowers tangled into the blonde curls on her head. “Oh heavens, what is all the fuss out here?” she asks just before she spots Bailey and I. Her eyes grow wide with disbelief as her demeanor shifts, her composure slipping when her gaze finds my motorcycle. “Bailey King, what on earth are you doing on that death trap?” Magnolia locks eyes with me before gasping in utter horror, a hand flying to her mouth to stifle the sound. “Nash Bishop, is that really you?”
“In the flesh, Mrs. King.” I can see the confusion swirling in her gaze as her eyes dart to her husband who hasn't looked away from me. For a second I think she’s going to come and hug me or strangle me, not sure which I’d prefer, but her husband grunts in warning, making her busy herself with her hands on her hips.
The tension triples, no one daring to be the next to speak. “Bailey sprained her ankle,” Billie blurts out, all eyes, including Jase’s, who’s appeared alongside his mother, look down at Bailey’s swollen foot. Jase joins his father’s side, a simple warning in his eyes as he tries to make sense of why I’m here.
“Oh dear, Bailey. What happened?” Magnolia asks, clearly worried or at least doing a damn good job of faking it.
Bailey’s eyes dart around, searching for some reassurance from her friends, perhaps even an escape but when no one comes to her rescue, she inhales a deep breath and lowers her hand to mine. I can’t help but smirk at the tremble that leaves her body when I dig my fingers further into her hip. Good luck talking your way out of this one, Angel.
“I tripped,” she lies, quickly looking away from me. “Nash was walking down the street when I fell and sprained it. That’s why he’s here.” The defensive tone in Bailey's voice as she chooses her words carefully, is not missed by her friends, brother, father, or me. The only one I think she fools is her own mother who’s more preoccupied with how this is ruining her party.
“I thought it happened in your apartment?” Brynn mocks, clearly knowing more about the situation than she lets on. However Bailey doesn’t risk her sister spilling any unwanted information, shushing her with an elbow to the rib. “Ouch, oh right. You went to check on HoneyBees since you thought you left the ovens on.” Bailey shoots her sister a glance that says, “What on earth are you talking about?” .
“Bailey, are you crazy, dear? Why would you be so reckless and leave the ovens on?” Magnolia shakes her head unbelieving of her daughter’s recklessness. Wow, the woman really is dense as she falls for the blatantly imaginative lie Brynn tells. Though she’s the only one fooled.
“Well, thank you Nash.” This comes from Mayor King himself. “For bringing my daughter and making sure she arrived safely. We’ll take it from here.” His cool tone conceals his true feelings which are, “Keep your hands off my daughter and get the fuck off my ranch”. He’s not fooling me. No, I know the bastard too damn well.
“We need to get you to a hospital, B,” Billie says, redirecting the attention to Bailey’s injury.
“I’ll take her,” I respond before anyone else, much to the amusement of my sister and her friends. “I was trying to convince her we needed to head there immediately, but apparently she felt the need to come prove why she couldn’t make it to your party.” Mayor King doesn’t miss the sarcasm in my tone.
“Jameson,” Mayor King commands.
As always, Jase doesn’t miss a beat following his father’s orders. “Yes, sir.”
“Bring your truck around. You’ll be taking your sister to the hospital.” My nostrils flare in anger at his blatant disregard for what I just said. Didn’t the fucker hear I was going to take her?
Magnolia runs a hand down her husband's arm. “Oh, Bismarck honey, but Jase was just about to give the speech he prepared. Why don’t we just let Nash take her? He wasn’t coming to the party, so that way Bailey’s really only the one missing out.” Her logic is confusing, but she’s not wrong. Magnolia wouldn’t want anyone to miss her darling speech, but I wouldn’t hear it, anyway.
King doesn’t look happy in the slightest, but he’s smart enough to know he won’t be going against his wife’s wishes. He can’t make a scene, not here, not in front of his family and guests. Now’s not the time or place unless he wants to give a quick history lesson, specifically covering the last ten years. The look in my eyes tells him to fuck around and find out what I’m capable of.
“Jase, give the man your keys. My daughter isn’t safe on that deathtrap.” Jase obeys, coming over to us and handing me his keys. He extends a hand out, waiting for me to drop my keys in his, but I’m reluctant to leave old Daisy here.
“Keys,” he says with a wide grin. He knows damn well I’d never let him drive my bike.
With no other option, I pull the keys out of the ignition and drop them into his hand. “Don’t you dare touch her,” I warn, and he lifts a brow in question. He quickly realizes what I mean, and his smile drops.
“Same to you, brother,” he mutters, so only I can hear him and I get the message loud and clear. Don’t touch Bailey .
That’s the plan, brother. If only I could get my dick to understand.