Page 7 of Ruthless King

“Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot the other day. Can we start over?” There, that wasn’t so bad. Before I could continue, she interrupted me.

“What makes you think you’re worthy of a do-over? Courtland King, you are the most exasperating person I have ever met.”

I couldn’t help myself. “You know, for someone who doesn’t know me, you sure have lots of opinions about me.” I couldn’t hide my smirk as I watched her mull over my words.

I had her speechless for once in the short time I had known her. She crossed her arms over her chest, and fuck, I wanted to tell her to stop doing that. The way her breasts were pushed up over her arms made me think thoughts I had no business thinking in a public place. It took all my willpower to avert my eyes to her face and not let them drift downward. “Molly, I would really like to make it up to you. Would you go to dinner with me tonight?”

I waited for what seemed like an eternity, watching her lips purse into a tiny pout before she spoke. “I can’t. I have a commitment tonight.”

My heart sank at her words. “Another night, then, perhaps?”

“I’ll think about it. In the meantime, maybe you can get the stick out of your ass long enough to realize the world doesn’t revolve around you.” That earned her another smirk, and me a cold stare as she stood and walked away. As I watched her sashay out the door, it took everything in my power not to go after her.

King, you are so fucked.

Chapter 6

Molly

Of all the assholes I’d known, he took the grand prize. One minute, I wanted to murder him, and the next, wanting to climb him like a tree. I had to leave the cafe before he could sense how affected I was just being close to him. His navy eyes and black hair had star-billing in my dreams the past two nights.

The way his body felt pressed against mine when he kissed me had me panting when he walked away. Every time we’ve interacted, he proved to be a conceited bastard. As much as I shouldn’t engage him, I couldn’t help myself. It’s like I’m being pulled into his orbit by some unseen force, like a meteor on a one-way collision course toward Earth.

Surely, he won’t be in Stone Creek that long. I mean, his parents have lived here for months, and he’s just now making an appearance. What’s up with that? I guessed I could ask Knight when he got back into town. Did he even know his brother was here? I meant it when I questioned his relationship with his brothers. All three of them are kind and considerate. The polar opposite of Mr. Dick Wad. Okay, Molly, you’re obsessing again.

Having the day off from the music store gave me plenty of time to prepare for tonight’s gig. It was my first time playing The Lux in a few weeks. Butterflies were going crazy in my tummy as I looked through my closet for something to wear. I wasn’t one to get nervous about performing, but today felt different for some reason. Was I secretly hoping a certain broody playboy would show up tonight? And if he showed up, what could I expect? Which version of the sexy devil would he be tonight?

Shaking those thoughts away, my hands drifted to the red velvet dress that I wore for my first performance there. Taking the soft fabric between my fingers brought back the memory of that night. The entire town had turned out to see the Juilliard graduate showcase her talent. It was both humbling and gratifying to have the town’s support.

I settled on the red velvet with strappy black heels. Tonight would be about me and no one else. My life, sad as it was, always revolved around making other people happy and tending to their every need. People called me Molly-do-good, and most of the time, I was good-natured about it, but every once in a while, it bothered me. I spent the last twenty years trying to absolve myself of something that was never mine to bear.

As I lowered myself into the garden tub, allowing the water to wrap me in solitude, my thoughts started whirling. What were the odds that he was a twin? It was difficult to wrap my head around. In my thirty-two years, I’ve known many twins, and it always stung when the realization hit me, but somehow this felt different. Hearing that Courtland and Ben were twins was like someone taking a sledgehammer to my heart and pounding it until nothing was left but a pile of pulverized tissue. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t make sense of how profoundly affected I was by this revelation.

My friends knew the depth of sorrow that coursed through my veins when anyone spoke of twins. My therapist said for many twins, when one died, it felt as if part of the other died, too. There has never been a statement I have believed more. Twins: something containing or consisting of two matching or corresponding parts. That’s how Google defined twins. Two matching parts. When there were no longer two, one felt lost. I have lived that scenario for two decades, and it hasn’t gotten any easier with time.

By the time my mind reset, the warm water had turned tepid, and I needed to hurry not to be late. Ben had been extremely understanding of the time I had recently taken off, but I didn’t want to take advantage of his goodness. Even though I had my day job at Cooper’s Music City, I coveted this side gig. Music had been a lifeline after Michael’s death, as it provided a channel for my grief. As hard as I tried not to be angry, I couldn’t help it. You’re taught in therapy about the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

There was a time I believed you wove your way through them in succession, but in reality, I discovered there was no rhyme or reason, and there was definitely no order to each stage. In fact, I revisited bargaining and depression more times than I’d care to admit. But, for the first time, I thought I had finally reached the acceptance stage, although that doesn’t make each memory hurt less. Even the happy times get sucked away when the grief swept over me like the darkest midnight.

Tess picked me up at seven o’clock on the dot. With Knight still out of town, she was the acting manager of Cooper’s, so she closed early to collect me. I could have walked the four blocks to the hotel, but she insisted the damp air would destroy my hair.

I rented a room above the Bluebird Cafe soon after I returned home. I couldn’t take the idea of moving in with my parents after being gone for years. It was a blessing for them as well, being that they were used to the empty nest. No reason for the baby bird to return. At least, that’s the story I told myself. The truth was, I was terrified of waking up every morning like I had for six years from the nightmares that robbed my sleep. After I left for college, I still had nightmares, but they weren’t as frequent as they were under my childhood roof.

As soon as we pulled into the parking lot, my eyes widened, and a kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight deep in my belly. The place was packed. Playing for a packed house rarely caused my nerves to take over, but once again, tonight seemed different from other nights.

My parents were coming, along with Julia, who was visiting from New York. Lucy had a photo shoot out of town, or she would be front and center. Her fiery red hair could not be missed when she would applaud after every song, sometimes before the song was over. Since I have been playing here, she hasn’t missed a show until tonight.

My set started at eight, so I looked over the songs I selected for the night in a hurry, making revisions as necessary. Ben was floating around, making sure the guests were taken care of, when he met my eyes. “Molly, are you ready for tonight?”

I offered a nervous smile, the tightness in my chest growing tighter with every minute that passed. “Hi, Ben. Where did all these people come from?” I didn’t mean to come off negatively. I’m sure he was elated that business was booming on a Friday night in small-town USA.

If he detected the disapproval in my voice, he didn’t react to it. “There’s a festival in the next county and their hotel booked up quickly. We’re getting the overflow. It’s great, isn’t it?”

Silently cursing, I just smiled and nodded, making my way to the event room.

As soon as the lights dimmed and I took my seat at the baby grand, I knew I was home. My fingers curled over the ivories as Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 echoed throughout the space, followed by Bach’s Prelude and Fugue. When I bowed my head to conclude the piece, the crowd erupted, my father leading the charge. Lucy would have had a field day. Next up was Mozart’s Sonata in C Major. I was lost in the melodies as the audience, once again, gave their approval. When I lifted my eyes before launching into the next movement, my gaze landed on the figure standing in the back of the room.

Courtland King. Tall, dark, and sinfully sexual. Every girl’s fantasy and every guy’s envy.

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