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He stalks off, shaking his head.
Ma wraps us both in one of her bear hugs, first Ivy, then me. “Don’t worry, kiddos. This town’s got our back. From politicians to the TCA to the boys in blue. We’re covered.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t think the Texas Cattlemen Association will be helpful right now.”
She pinches my cheek. “Oh, you’d be surprised. Half of them double as politicians, lawyers, even cops, my smart-aleck son.” She gives me a soft tap, a silent reminder of her unwavering support, and then steps away. “Heed your father’s advice. Stay put. I’ll take Ivy home later.”
“Okay, Mom.” Minutes later, both emerge fully dressed before taking off for the hospital.
“Sorry about this,” Ivy offers, her head hanging low. “If I hadn’t insisted on going to Hornet’s Nest, we wouldn’t be in this mess. You might get in real trouble for this, Stone. You beat the crap outta that guy.”
Trying to lighten the mood, I flash a grin, doing my best to seem unfazed. “He deserved it. My mom and dad will figure this out. They practically own this town. They have friends everywhere.”
“I hope you’re right. They are pretty resourceful.”
“Yeah. I’m gonna head up, shower off the night. Join me?”
The look she gives me is priceless. “Uhm…no.”
“Hey, worth a shot. It is your birthday.” I say and wiggle my eyebrows.
Her laughter rings out, but clearly, it’s a firm no. “Yes, it is. My birthday, not yours, and I told you I don’t want to fuck up our relationship, so keep that anaconda to yourself.”
Bounding up the stairs two at a time, chuckling to myself. Anaconda.
Ivy always has a way of keeping me on my toes, and despite everything, I wouldn’t have it any other way. But man has she kept me in the friend zone for way too long.
CHAPTER TWO
Ivy ~ 5 years ago
I hate working the early shift at the diner, but it’s the only job I can do in this small town. It pays enough for now, but I dream of serving cocktails at The Barn Door and making big tips. Maybe then I’ll have enough money to move out and have some freedom.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my family, and living with them is comfortable, but I crave independence. I want to make my own choices without anyone telling me what to do. I want to sneak a drink or two, or have a guy stay over without my parents breathing down my neck.
But here I am, stuck slinging hash to locals and travelers passing through our uneventful town. I feel envious as they talk about their exciting lives in bigger cities or on fancy ranches. Yet, I put on my best fake smile and hope for generous tips to bring me closer to escaping this monotonous life.
After my shift at the diner ends, I carefully count the crumpled dollar bills in my apron pocket. Today’s haul comes to eighty bucks, a decent amount for the day shift. There must be something special going on in town. Maybe it’s the annual rodeo over in neighboring Tulip.
I mentally calculate my earnings as I make my way out to the parking lot. Eighty dollars a day, six days a week...that’s four-hundred and eighty dollars extra every week that can go into my savings jar. Not bad for an eighteen-year-old.
But then again, eighty bucks is not the norm. Most days, I’m lucky if I walk away with forty dollars in tips. But I refuse to give up on my goal of saving up so I can move out. So I diligently add each and every tip into my jar regardless of how small they may be. It’s all adding up slowly but surely.
I put the car in drive, but instead of going straight home, I head over to Hardtail Ranch because I haven’t heard from Stone all day.
After last night, I expected a message from him to tell me if everything was all right. I texted him before my shift began, and he still hasn’t read it. What happened to him?
I pull up outside the big house, which is what we’ve always called the house that Stone and his parents live in.
I open the door to the kitchen and poke my head in. “Peaches! Is anyone home? Stone?” I call out how I always do when I go inside the big house because someone is usually in the living room. Today, there’s no answer. The house is eerily quiet.
“Peaches? Gunnar?” I step inside and walk to the living room and freeze. “Gray, hey. What are you doing here?” Gray doesn’t even live here. He’s Ella Mae’s son. They live in their own house on the ranch.
The look on his face brings me up short, and I look around the room once again, listening for something. Anything. “Gray?”
He walks over to the liquor cabinet and pours a drink. “How ya doing, Ivy?”
“Where’s everyone at?” I ask. “Why is it so fucking quiet in here? And why are you raiding the liquor cabinet? You’re just a kid.”
