Chapter 29
Dakota
First stop on our road trip into utter madness–Kerosene…
We showed up during one of their weekly rehearsals.
Rhylan confirmed that both Trent and Silas would be there to meet Tiffany face-to-face, giving her a chance to see her cowboy first before signing on the dotted line.
Apparently, it was one of Trent’s requirements before going through with the arrangement, and it was an honorable one at that.
When we entered through the double doors, I immediately spotted Rhylan in the far corner by the bar, talking with Trent and someone who I could only assume was Silas.
As we approached the group, I glanced at my sister from the corner of my eye, noticing a subtle shift in her demeanor, no longer nervous and uncertain.
“Rhy.”
“Hey, Wildcat.” The soft rumble of his voice filled me with warmth as I stepped into him, and he pressed his lips to the crown of my head, wrapping an arm around my waist.
After taking a second to enjoy my husband’s embrace, I then cleared my throat to introduce Tiffany to bachelor number one.
“Tiff, this is—”
“Trent Adams, and aren’t you a gorgeous thing. I knew Rhy’s buckle-branded was hot, but you? Why, you’re pure fuckin’ fire.”
I couldn’t tell if his line was a dig at me or a compliment to both of us, but it must’ve worked on Tiffany because she grew taller, confidently crossing her hands over her chest while popping her hip out to the side.
“I think you forgot to mention that he’s old… like dad…” And there it is... the unfiltered attitude I was expecting.
“If that’s the sort of man you’re after, feel free to call me Daddy all you want, sweet pea. I don’t mind, kinda like it if I’m being honest.” Trent matched Tiffany’s energy seamlessly, not batting an eye at her failed attempt at shit talkin’.
“Gross… your grays are showing...”
“If you’re attempting to insult me, you’ll have to try harder than that. I come with experience, far more than any fuckboy you’ve ever slept with.”
“Oh my god, D, you can’t be fucking serious with this cowboy?
What about…” Tiffany’s eyes frantically bounced around the room, ignoring Silas, who stood next to Trent, praying to God that there was someone younger she could swing as a viable option at the last minute.
“That one. Him.” She pointed to a guy who looked to be in his mid-twenties, with short, honey-blond hair and a baby face that reminded me of Aaron Carter.
I mean… he looked innocent enough to trust…
“Devon?” Rhylan choked on the name with a laugh, right before shamefully clasping a hand over his mouth. Silas elbowed him in the arm with the same expression of amusement.
“Trust me when I say this, but you don’t want Devon as your husband, Tiff.
He can be a little… rough with his women.
” Trent took a step toward my sister, a bold smirk on his face as he towered over her tiny frame with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Likes them submissive, which you clearly aren’t in the least. He’d wear you out like a pair of farmer’s overalls within minutes. ”
Tiffany swallowed hard as she peered back over her shoulder in Devon’s direction, and he offered a playful wink while rolling the strap of a leather belt tightly around his fist. Safe to say, he made Trent look far more appealing—a lion versus a hyena. Hakuna Matata.
“Dakota.” She whined, looking at me with desperation. One of those rare times where she used my proper name, generally reserved for when she really wanted something; in this case, a different man.
Trent was just as big a catch as Rhylan. Taller by a couple of inches, standing roughly six-three, with dark brown hair, a short, clean-cut beard, and ice-blue eyes that could freeze any woman with a simple look. Aside from their age gap, I couldn’t find anything wrong with him.
In the middle of studying both cowboys, I was interrupted by frantic hands as they ripped me out of the arms of my husband, hauling my ass into the women’s restroom before slamming the door shut behind us.
“Tiff,” I growled, turning around to face my sister, already chewing on her thumb as she paced along the vanity like some anxiety-driven caged animal.
She hadn’t outright said ‘no’, leading me to believe that something else was making her act this way in front of him.
“Okay. Talk. What’s wrong with Trent? Because I sure as shit know you wanted a piece of him the night I went home with Rhy.
Is it his age? Does that really bother you that badly?
” I put my foot down, well past the point of being patient with her reluctance, and push back.
“Is it his looks? Would you prefer Silas? You can be honest. I really don’t think they care who you choose; they both seem interested in you.
” Even though Silas hadn’t spoken a word, his eyes did most of the talking; fucking her into oblivion.
“It’s not that, D, he’s just… Trent is—”
“Is what? An ass? Too forward? Too tall?” I was trying my damnedest to highlight a single flaw, except he had none from what I could see.
“Too… big…” Tiffany uttered, and I almost didn’t catch what she’d said as she stopped pacing altogether, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort.
“Too—hold on a second. Are we talkin’—”
“His dick is fucking huge, okay?” Her voice rose with the confession before falling back to a whisper, nervous that the cowboys might be standing on the other side of the door listening to our conversation.
“I… may have fucked around with him… in here… that night after you’d left with Rhylan. ” She what?!
“Oh-kay…” How do I even respond to that?
“I don’t think he knew I was your sister, and… I may have also lied about my age...”
“You—” Because of course she would.
I tried my hardest to hold in the laughter that threatened to burst from my chest. My sister. Afraid of potentially being fucked to death—or impaled… literally. She said he was huge, but not in what specific way… Length? Girth? Both?
“I couldn’t help myself after you left that night.
I saw him crossing the bar and thought, ‘why the fuck not’, using the card you always pull with your one-night stands.
And now it just so happens that you and Rhylan are setting me up with my booty call…
so I guess the fucking joke’s on me.” Tiffany flailed her arms dramatically before falling back against the wall, staring up at the black tile ceiling as she took slow and controlled breaths.
Without saying another word, I padded over to where she stood and mirrored her stance on the adjoining wall, letting Tiffany process everything in her own time.
While this news took me by surprise, I was proud of my sister for sticking it out instead of running or pretending that nothing ever happened between her and Trent.
Although it had me wondering why he didn’t mention anything either.
He’d acted as though this was the first time he’d seen her.
After what felt like fifteen minutes of silence, nothing but the sounds of muffled laughter and voices filtered in from beneath the door.
Tiffany started laughing—hysterically. Out of fucking nowhere, my sister was now cackling like a mad woman with tears streaming down her face in what I could only assume was sadness; except her cheerful tone betrayed the likelihood of that idea.
“I suppose I finally know how it feels to win the lottery… How you must’ve felt when Rhylan chose you that night.
” She rolled her head to the side, and when her eyes met mine, she smiled—no, beamed with acceptance of our now mutually fucked up adventure.
“We’ve completely lost our shit, haven’t we? ”
“Oh yes, we have. At least, with good reason… right?”
There was something about these cowboys that made them so captivating. These guys were absolutely lethal, and it had me attracted like a wild game pheromone.
And while I’d accepted the fate of tying myself to Rhylan, there was still that small nagging part that cried out in warning of things to come.
“We’ll find out when you spill all those details you’ve been just dying to tell me over a bottle of wine, to commemorate my marriage. I’m assuming I’ll have to move in with him too, right? Play house?”
“That all depends… are you saying yes? You’re going to go through with this?”
We couldn’t all live in the same tiny rambler, so I guess… yeah. With Tiffany marrying Trent, she’ll move in with him—wherever he lives, and Rhylan, and I will live on his ranch; our ranch.
“Why not? I’m not getting any younger, and he—” Tiffany blew a long exhale before pushing off the wall and pivoting to look at her reflection in the mirror, eyes dropping to her bare left hand, fingertips resting on the resin wood vanity.
“Can I give him hell?” There was a subtle smile that pulled at the corner of her lips.
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. Daddy issues and all.”
We laughed together, taking time to reminisce about the past. Our past. Everything we’d been through; that got us here.
“Oh! Remember that time they called us the Wilde sisters?” Tiffany chuckled at the memory of a house party we crashed with a guy she’d only just started dating.
“How could I not? You nearly drove that poor girl’s face through the window.”
“Would’ve succeeded too if it weren’t for you holding me back. And the look on Tyler’s face—”
“Priceless.” I laughed as the vision of his face crossed my mind. Jaw hanging with the look of pure horror as his side piece got the shit kicked out of her by the smallest woman in the room.
“Fucking. Priceless.” My sister sighed with relief, remembering that she wasn’t as innocent as others portrayed her to be. “We were so unhinged back then…”
I placed my hands on her shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze of reassurance.
“You’ll be fine with Trent, Tiff.”
“I know… I know…” Her eyes fell to the floor once more as she bid her single, care-free life farewell, wondering where this next chapter would lead. She wasn’t making this decision for me; she was doing it for herself, and I expected nothing less.
The Wilde sisters, claiming their title once more.