Page 47 of Bones and Ashes

"You're datin' my sister, Legion. I have every right to ask for this talk."

Another scoff. "Well, see… here's the thing, Cash." I drawl out his name. "I don't live in your world. I don't follow your rules. And I don't owe you nothing. Sure. Savannah is your sister. I get it. I even respect it. But the thing you don't understand is that I didn't win her in some contest. She's been mine since she was twelve years old. Eighteen years. That's how long we've been friends. You didn't have a say in it then and you don't get a say in it now. This is just how it is."

"You're readin' me wrong, Legion."

A third scoff "Am I?"

"Yeah, because I'm not asking you to talk to make trouble. I'm trying to find a place for you here."

"A place for me?"

"Not with Savannah. With… me."

For a moment I'm actually stunned. So stunned I can't speak.

"You know," Cash continues. "Arrangements. Alliances. Brother-in-law type stuff."

The problem with this answer of his is… I don't actually know what that means. Is this a thing rich people do? Form alliances between families?

It feels very… royal family.

And the moment I name this feeling in my head, it kinda makes sense. So I'm about to sit down and have this talk when someone knocks on the hardwood frame of the study door.

Cash and I look at the same time.

Savannah. She's all peaches and cream. Cute prairie dress with a tight bodice and ruffled hem. Cowboy boots peekin' out underneath. Long blonde hair pulled up in a fancy way, a few sexy tendrils framin' her face.

My first urge is to fuck her. Right here, right now. Just slide those ruffles up, push her up against a wall, slide her panties aside, and impale her with my cock.

I stop the fantasy before the chub forms, but only just barely.

Damn, I'm an animal when it comes to this woman.

"Everythin' all right in here?" she asks sweetly.

But underneath the manners, Cash and I both hear the warning.

It's for him, not for me. Cash stands, adjusts the cuff of his shirt, and picks up his hat. "Everything's just fine, Savannah." Then he walks past her with a tip of his hat that isn't even on his head callin', "Dinner's ready. Let's eat."

We watch him leave and then look at each other.

"What was that about?" Savannah asks.

"Oh, you know," I say, walkin' over to her. "Royal family shit." I take her hand, give her knuckles a kiss as I look her dead in the eyes, and then place her fingertips on my arm so I can escort her to the dinin' room like a proper fuckin' prince. "Let's eat."

Savannah's brother Wyatt is already sitting at the table with Cash when we arrive. He didn't typically show up for dinner back when I was recovering here, so I didn't see him much. But people don't need to see much of Wyatt Ashby to understand what he is.

The family fuck-up.

I don't think I've ever seen him sober. And tonight is no exception.

"Wyatt," Savannah says, greetin' him.

Cash sits at the top of the table, Savannah sits at the bottom, and Wyatt sits on Cash's left, closest to the door. So he can leave easily, I think.

I only ever had dinner once at this table when I lived here.

And that was the night I left.