“Ask your daddy,” Raven coos, taking a strand of her silky black hair between her fingers as she twirls it in an awfully flirtatious way. “I’m sure he knows just what I spend my nights doing.” Mary Beth’s face goes beet red, though she was raised tokeep it all in and not lose her composure in public. Instead, the two mean girls turn on their heels and march right out of the Red Barrel, surely plotting my demise.
I let out a loud, rambunctious laugh, and damn it feels good. “I can’t believe you just told Mary Beth Baker you’re sleeping with her dad,” I say between sporadic laughs.
Raven raises her brow as she turns to face me. “Have you seen the man, honey? Mary Beth Baker’s mama ain’t even sleeping with him.”
That only makes me laugh harder, and this time Raven joins in, causing a few too many heads to turn our way. I was so distracted by what had happened I didn’t realize a small crowd of onlookers had formed around us.
“Anyway, why don’t I help you gather whatever else you were here to buy and we can head over to your house? I kind of have something I want to talk to you about.” Curious to know what Raven wants, I agree, though just as we are about to check out, I remember home is not where I’m headed.
“Actually,” I say, unsure of how I’m even going to word what I have to say. “I’m not heading home. At least not to the house I share with Monty.”
“Where are you living now?” she asks, though it takes about five seconds for the realization to come. “Oh,” she mutters, not an ounce of judgment in her tone. “Well, that’s good with me, as long as you’re up for company.”
I debate saying yes, though I know I’m not in the mood to play host when all of my belongings are still lying in boxes in the guest room. Jase has been gone for the past few days.For what?I didn’t bother asking. Instead, I am grateful to have some time to myself to finish settling in and get used to the idea of living in his house.
I give Raven an apologetic smile. “Mind if we reschedule? Maybe over the weekend or something. I’m kind of in the middle of moving in still, so I've got a lot going on.”
Raven's smile drops, but she’s quick to recover when she notices the cashier paying a little too close attention to our conversation. The woman clears her throat when she catches us staring and pretends like she wasn’t just eavesdropping.
Raven rolls her eyes and turns to face me so the woman won’t hear what she’s about to say. “Yeah, no problem. I'm off Friday night, actually.”
That makes me smile. It’s been weeks since I’ve had a night to decompress. A night to pretend like the last few weeks haven’t been some of the hardest I’ve ever dealt with. A few more nights of solitude and a night with my girls is exactly what I need to prepare myself for Jase’s return.
“Thanks for understanding, Rae. I’ll text Billie and Bailey. Maybe we can meet up at Billie’s apartment. I don’t want you to have to spend your night off at the bar. We’ll make a girls' night out of it. I could really use one of those.”
Her smile reappears, though it’s not as wide as she usually wears it. Raven is one of the most optimistic people I’ve ever met, constantly wearing a smile on her face, despite the current hardships she faces. She somehow doesn't let that bring her down. I thrive to be more like her and will have to ask her how she does it.
That’s when I remembered she had mentioned having something she wanted to ask me. “Wait, Raven,” I call out before she walks away. “You wanted to ask me something?”
Raven shrugs it off like it’s no big deal. “Oh yeah, no worries. I can wait. Besides, I want to make a little stop and get my nails done before my shift tonight.”
She’s quick to walk away, only further making me believe that what she had to say may have been important. “Okay, well,if you need anything, just text me. See you Friday,” I call out as she rushes out the door.
Chapter Two
Monroe
Present
Thirty minutes later, I'm pulling up to the large wooden gates leading into the massive, two hundred acre property of the King’s Family Ranch, a place I’ve spent plenty of time in over the years. The initials of their patriarch, Bismarck King, are branded onto the wood, too gaudy if you ask me, but the King’s family wealth is on another level. As is their way of demonstrating it.
The property behind these walls is grandiose and continues to surprise me despite the many times I’ve visited and even stayed in the main house. However, living on it full time will be unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
Growing up alongside Bailey and Jase, I was no stranger to their way of living, but it was their family dynamic I was drawn to. Regardless of the issues her family faced, and the differences between her and her parents, they loved one another and supported each other, even if it was all based upon keeping up appearances.
I didn’t have any of that, and soon enough, being accepted and well liked by the Kings became something I craved. Especially Magnolia King, who at the time I believed to be the type of mother anyone would be lucky to have. At least compared to mine, who lasted all but eight years with me until she realized I was not enough to keep.
Despite the secrets and scandal that have recently come to light, which have more than tarnished their relationships, I still envy the family they once were.
Jake Macallan, one of Bismarck King’s most trusted employees and an acquaintance of mine, stands guard at the front of the ranch. Jake went to high school with Billie, Bailey and me, and is overall a pretty decent guy.
He tilts his cowboy hat as I roll down my window. “Have a nice day, Ms. Bishop,” he says as he presses the code to open the gates.
I want to argue with him and tell him to simply call me Monroe, but I know it’s just the way he was raised to be so polite. Instead, I give him a sweet smile as I drive in and toward my new home.
Taking a left turn at the fork, I travel down the gravel road leading to Jase’s side of the property. Although his house is nothing like the large plantation-style estate his parents live in, there is nothing simple about it. Regardless of its lack of splendor, in terms of the main house, it still is nothing like the house I lived in with Monty. Definitely not compared to the Bishop Ranch I grew up on.
His three-bedroom, two-bathroom home sits on nearly five acres, leading to the horse stables right behind it that extend another ten acres. The large white picket fence, which separates his house from the road leading up to the main house, extends the entire acreage he owns.
