32
D inner at Ruby and Charlie’s at six sharp on Sunday. We show up fifteen minutes late, Fallon banging the front door open with an executioner’s flourish.
“Here,” Dakota rushes over. “Let me help you.”
“I can do it, Koty,” Fallon warns, settling her walker near the hallway. Her face is irritated as her sister helps her limp across the hardwood floor. From over her shoulder, she shoots me a glare. Like it’s my fault she’s here.
Like every damn thing that’s happened to her is my fault.
Hell, maybe it is.
If I had found that letter…
If I had told her I loved her before Aiden…
We wouldn’t be in this mess.
I sigh and lean back against the wall. Since Ruby moved in, Charlie’s log cabin has been upgraded. Plants and candles on the windowsills. Kittens in every nook and corner. The scent of sunshine and flowers and vanilla lingering in the air.
Ruby and Dakota prep dinner at the counter, while Reese tops off glasses of wine and whiskey.
Fallon sits on the floor with the kids, Keena, and the cats. Content to lone wolf it for the night.
Davis shakes his head. “I shouldn’t even have to fuckin’ say it.”
“He’s gonna to be late the rest of his life,” Ford drawls, handing me a beer. “Get used to it, brother.”
“Blame Fallon,” I grumble. It took everything in me to drag Fallon’s ass to the ranch. She argued with me before we left the cottage then sat arms crossed and silent the entire drive here. She’s shutting me out.
“By the way,” Davis says, “your Airstream. I need your ass to grab some boxes and get to packin’.”
I roll my eyes. Back for one family dinner and already they’re giving me chores. “You decide what you’re doin’ with the land?”
“Casino,” Ford drawls.
“Dick,” I mutter, flipping him the bird.
Ford adjusts the baseball cap on his head. “You hear about the break-in at Zeke’s?”
“What happened?”
“Fucker stole some animal pens and horse tranq.” He jerks his chin at Davis. “But we got Rambo on the case.”
“Again, not a cop.” Davis rolls out his shoulders then leans down on the counter to let us in on the town chatter. “Richter pulled cameras. Didn’t get shit since they went out the back door.”
Dakota walks by. Davis jerks up as she slaps his ass. “Like I said,” she tells the room, “blue-collar gossip.”
Davis growls and lunges. Dakota squeals, trying to juggle a tray of cookies as he grabs her hips and tugs her against him.
For a long second, I watch my brother and his wife. Hell if I don’t want that same exact damn thing. My body aches to claim Fallon with more than just words. To call her my wife and tell her to get fucking used to it. To kiss her in front of everyone. To claim her. For good.
A blur of motion catches my eye.
I take a swig of my beer then nod at Charlie, who follows Ruby into the living room. “What’s with them?”
My brother has Ruby pressed back against the wall, his hands cupped to her pretty face. Tight lines of tension strain Charlie’s mouth.
“Ain’t sure,” Ford says. “Been at it all night.”
I arch a brow. “Fightin’?”
Ford snorts. “Charlie knows better than to fight with Fairy Tale.”
A slender arm snakes over Ford’s shoulder. “Wise words from you, Country Boy.”
Ford grins like an idiot, yanking Reese against him. She giggles and throws her arms around his neck.
I avert my gaze, feeling that ache in my gut again.
The stove opens. The cabin fills with the delicious aroma of butter and herbs.
“Dinner,” Dakota says, clapping her hands together.
Thank Christ. Anything to get this night over with.
As everyone marches toward the long farmhouse table, I pray this isn’t a fucking disaster. Already, there’s a weird atmosphere. Some strange tension. Charlie’s cabin isn’t loud and chaotic, it feels off.
Looking like she’d be content incinerating anyone in her path, Fallon plants herself at the dinner table with a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.
I take a seat beside her. “Go easy on that.”
She arches a sharp brow and points a butter knife at me. “I think fucking not.”
I cover her hand with mine. Her rings of turquoise, her tattoos, her delicate but strong grip, her bloodred nails. “Come on,” I coax. “Normally I’m a fan of throwing alcohol on a problem, but not tonight, okay?”
Fallon’s face softens. Barely.
I don’t miss the looks from my brothers. We’re married, but we’re not technically a couple. Not yet, at least.
I keep her hand in mine, move it beneath the table.
We dish in steaks, salads, potatoes, wine and beer. No one mentions why we’re here. Family fucking togetherness. Fallon. Maybe we’re saving it for dessert.
“Reese, when do you go on tour again?” Dakota asks, keeping the conversation at a neutral speed.
Every awkward pause is a reminder of why we’re here. Who’s not speaking. Fallon.
“This winter.” Reese smiles at Ford. “It works out great with the ranch schedule and Ford’s camp.”
“First stop?” Davis asks.
“Germany,” Ford says.
“Be a well-traveled man, that’s for damn sure.” Davis chuckles as he feeds Duke a small hunk of steak. “Just gotta get through summer first.”
“Oh, yeah,” Fallon drawls. “The summer’s been fan-fucking-tastic.”
Dakota bites her lip. I tense.
Fuck.
A challenge in her hazel eyes, Fallon glances around the table. “Go on. I’m sure you’re dying to say it.”
Silence stretches for a few heartbeats.
After shooting down her whiskey, Fallon sits back in her seat and crosses her arms. “Pappy dropped me. Now you can be happy.”
“No one’s happy, Fallon.” Pretty face pale, Dakota passes Ruby the breadbasket. “I promise you that.”
“Yeah, cowgirl,” Ford says in sympathy, taking a sip of his beer. “No one wanted to see you go out like that.”
“It’s for the best,” Davis says, ever the hard-ass, and Dakota and I both groan aloud.
“You don’t know what’s best for me,” Fallon snaps, tattooed hand cradling her whiskey glass.
“Fuck,” I mutter. This is now just the let’s stress out Wyatt show.
Davis stares Fallon down. “I know you almost died, so give your family some grace.”
I watch the blow land, Fallon’s face darkening like a thunder cloud.
“Whatever.” She flattens her baked potato with her fork. “It’s not like you two ever supported me anyway.”
Davis snaps open his mouth like he’s about to start yelling.
Dakota twists, telling him, “Don’t.”
He grumbles under his breath. Sticks a piece of roll in his mouth like he’s trying to shut himself up. Beside him, Duke gums a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Unaware of what he’s in for with this family.
With a loud sigh, Fallon unscrews the bottle of whiskey and splashes three fingers in her empty water glass.
Thank fuck for Reese, who’s the voice of reason. “Do you want some water, Fallon?”
“No. I don’t want some water, Reese.” Fallon scoffs then gulps the honey-colored liquid. “Spare me your own personal sob story, okay? I can hold my liquor. Unlike someone.”
Reese looks down at her plate.
Face tight, Ford runs his hand over Reese’s shoulder.
My stomach twists. Fallon’s in pain and taking her anger out on us.
“Hey.” I lean in. “You can’t do that. Act like an asshole to your friends.”
She meets my stare with blazing eyes. “Who’s acting?”
A blanket of tension falls. Silverware clink. Duke babbles. Keena snores in a corner.
I look down the table at Charlie and Ruby. “Y’all okay?” They haven’t said a word for the entire dinner. Never mind the fact that Ruby looks like she’s on the verge of tears.
Charlie clears his throat. “We wanted y’all to have a nice night.”
“Too late,” Ford demands, his gaze flicking briefly to Fallon. “Out with it.”
Ruby and Charlie look at each other, then Ruby, tears in her eyes, says, “Our surrogate miscarried.”
Dakota sucks in a small breath.
Reese’s hands go to her mouth. “Oh my god.”
Even Fallon sits frozen.
Heavy, brimming silence.
“Fuck,” I exhale. My chest aches for my brother and his wife. They look fucking devastated. “Charlie, man…” I trail off, not knowing what to say. How to fix this.
Davis’s eyes are wide and stunned. “Christ, I’m sorry.”
Tears spill down Ruby’s cheek. Dakota reaches across the table to squeeze Ruby’s hand.
On a shaky breath, Ruby says, “Our surrogate doesn’t want to do it anymore. She opted out of her contract. Which means we have to start all over.”
“So you start over,” Ford says. “You have more eggs.”
“Two more. But…” Ruby’s teary gaze slips to Charlie.
“We’ve been payin’ out of pocket for some medicines that haven’t been approved yet. We ain’t got much more money,” Charlie says quietly. “Not enough to do the flower shop and pay for another round of IVF.”
“We have to give up,” Ruby finishes, her eyes landing on Duke.
“The fuck you do.” Ford frowns then looks to Davis. “There’s gotta be something.”
“Fuck,” Davis exhales. “I can get some money—”
But Charlie’s already shaking his head, even as Dakota’s nodding in support of her husband.
“I have money,” Reese says, face intent. “Lots of it.”
Charlie drags a hand over his beard. “No, we can’t let y’all do that.”
I shake my head. “Y’all are bein’ stupid. Stubborn. Take the fuckin’ money.” If we have to bully them into taking help, so be it.
“It’s not just the money. It took so long to find a surrogate here in Montana.” Ruby’s hopeful gaze flicks up to Charlie. “I could always try to get preg—”
“No,” he shoots back sternly. “You ain’t doin’ that, Sunflower. I won’t let you.”
Ruby sniffles. “It’s not fair.”
“That’s the shit thing of life, isn’t it.” Fallon’s voice is like a hot knife cutting the sadness. “Dreams don’t always work out, do they?”
Ruby goes still.
Charlie’s eyes darken.
Fallon tosses back her whiskey. “It’s life, Ruby. It’s not all gardens and sunshine and flowers. It fucking sucks. And the sooner you realize that not everything miraculously fixes itself, the better off you’ll be in this fucked-up life.”
Silence ripples around the table.
A sob erupts from Ruby’s mouth.
“Fallon,” Reese breathes. “How could you say that?”
Fallon’s hazel eyes flicker—remorse for hurting Ruby—but she blinks and it’s gone. She gives a cavalier shrug. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”
My heart thunders. “Don’t say one more fuckin’ word,” I tell her, ready to toss her over my shoulder and haul ass outside before she does any more damage.
“Fallon,” Dakota snaps, slamming down her wine glass. “That’s enough.”
“You’re out of line,” Davis barks.
As if she’s felt the tension, Lainie, in her bassinet, whimpers.
“Maybe you should take a breather, cowgirl,” Ford suggests.
Both Reese and Dakota look overwhelmed.
Fallon rolls her eyes. “I don’t need a breather. What I need is another drink.”
Her hand slips from mine as she stands. Reese rises to help, but Fallon waves her off. Her booted footsteps echo through the house as she limps for the kitchen. I let her go. She needs to cool the fuck off.
Charlie throws a withering glance in Fallon’s direction and growls, “If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay in there.”
Ruby sniffles, her eyes bright with tears.
Ford gives me a pissed-off look. “She’s your wife. Get her under control.”
I snap open my mouth, wanting to defend her, but also knowing she went too far. “She’s goin’ fucking through it.”
This isn’t her. Not really. Fallon would rather drop dead than hurt any of her friends. Especially Ruby.
Charlie’s voice is cold. “Doesn’t give her the right to treat everyone like shit.” Rugged expression softening, he turns to Ruby. “We’ll figure it out, Sunflower. It’ll all be okay.”
I don’t envy the spot my brother’s in. Wanting to do everything he can for the woman he loves but unable to fix it.
“I know,” she says with tear-filled eyes. She musters a smile and places a hand over Charlie’s heart. “If we stop, it’s okay, because I have you and that’s all that matters.”
Fuck. I can’t handle it. The pain, the love on their faces…
Ford lifts his head from his hands. “Christ. That almost wins the most awkward family dinner award.” He looks to me. “Although, it doesn’t beat you comin’ to Thanksgiving dinner hammered.”
I give Ford a tight smirk. “Was that before or after I let the cow in the house?”
In her bassinet, Lainie’s whimper is now a full-throttle cry.
Dakota, panicked, goes to her daughter. “I want Fallon to move back to the ranch,” she says, cradling Lainie against her chest.
I bristle. “Bullshit.”
I will fight to the death for Fallon. Because this isn’t her. She’s hurting and taking it out on everyone around her with rude words and rough attitude. But she’s hurting. They haven’t been there, sleeping beside her, hearing her nightmares, seeing the pain she’s been in these last two months.
“Wyatt,” Davis warns and holds up a finger.
“She ain’t stayin’ at the ranch,” I say through clenched teeth. “She was doin’ just fuckin’ fine until Pappy.”
“She’s a long way from fine,” Charlie says coldly.
We argue, everyone putting their two fucking cents in about what to do about Fallon, when I scan the table. Fallon hasn’t returned. So I stand and head to the kitchen, expecting her to be glowering, standing back against the counter, slugging whiskey straight from the bottle.
But she’s not there either.
A bad feeling settles in my gut.
Frowning, I head back to the dining room. “Y’all seen Fallon?”
My heart lodges itself in my fucking throat when all I get is a chorus of nos .
I stomp for the living room. “Fallon!” I call out.
Her walker’s gone. The front door cracked open.
Cold washes over my chest. I saw the look in her eyes when she said that to Ruby. Guilt. Hatred. She’s a bomb, damn near ready to blow.
“What’s wrong?” Dakota’s at my side, clutching my arm.
“Fallon’s gone.”
Panic’s a primal beast inside of me as I storm past her, and outside into the hot summer night. Hoping, praying, that I find Fallon before she does something really fucking stupid.