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“She told me. Apparently no one is being shy about the land they want to take from us and the Lattimores.”
“We have what everyone wants, Vic. Look around.”
He took in the blue skies and the ranch land dotted with cows of all colors. Utopia. A utopia they could lose if Heath Thurston continued to press the issue of oil rights. The other man saw it as his way of righting the scales. His deceased mother and half sister weren’t here to fight for the land they were presumably promised, so Heath was doing it for them. Heath’s twin brother, Chelsea’s fiancé, Nolan, had decided to remain neutral.
Vic didn’t buy it.
He’d never admit to his sisters how much the threat scared him, or how close this litigation was coming to causing a serious kink in his family’s and the Lattimores’ lives. Vic cared about this ranch, beyond running it for his pride’s sake. This was his family home. He refused to lose it.
“The Grandins and the Lattimores have been neighbors for as long as anyone can remember.” He squinted up at the bright blue sky covering their lands and beyond. “Can you imagine if—”
“No,” Layla interrupted. “I’m not going to imagine what if.” Her eyes were as hard as steel, but he saw fear behind them. He’d do anything to protect his sisters from what was going on right under their noses. He felt so damned helpless in this situation. “I might be building a life of my own, but the Grandin ranch will always be home.”
They dismounted at the barn, leaving their horses to be cared for by the stable hands, before they walked back toward the house.
“I’m heading back to my ranch to see how the construction is going. If you spot Daddy, send my regrets on missing the meeting.” Layla slapped Vic’s shoulder and wandered off in the direction of her car.
Some days the idea of everything resting on his shoulders wasn’t as romantic a notion as it had been when he was younger. He’d imagined wielding both power and control like his father, with a fair hand. Vic had prided himself on being firm and decisive, but now that he was older, he saw how many situations were not simply black and white. There were as many shades of gray as on his horse Titan, and those shades often bled together, making for a muddy canvas. Individual colors were impossible to distinguish.
That made him think of Aubrey. There was no black-and-white way of thinking with her, and she’d muddied his mind more than anything. When he’d gone to dinner last night, he’d resolved not to kiss her. He’d changed his mind the moment she’d followed him outside. One look into her jade-green eyes and he hadn’t been able to tell her no. Not when she’d looked at him like she still loved him. Which, he supposed, she thought she still did.
He scrubbed his forehead and sighed, the day feeling long already, and it’d only just begun. When he stepped back into his office, his coffee had gone cold and his father was sitting at Vic’s desk.
“You’re late. Layla and Chelsea have gone.”
“You’re the one taking over, son.” His father shrugged.
Hell, here they went again.
By the time the sun was setting, Vic was well and truly beat. He needed sleep, or at least to destress. Typically he’d call Jayden so they could go out, but the question was go out and do what?
Drink beer? Flirt with women? Not only did Vic not want to flirt with other women, but he was practically betrothed now that he was pretending to Aubrey they’d never split. He didn’t mind as much as he thought he would have. For the last ten years, he’d been judicious about the women he dated, so he hadn’t made any future plans. A future with a woman was something he’d only imagined with Aubrey, back when she’d worn the engagement ring he’d put on her finger.
He’d slipped right back into that mode of thinking. It was like they’d stepped into a time machine and had traveled back to high school. The hand-holding, the kisses in her parents’ driveway, denying each other the sex they so desperately wanted... He’d held out for a little over two years before he and Aubrey slept together. Her first time. His first time. He wasn’t typically sentimental, but thinking back on those days caused his chest to constrict. They’d lost so much, which made for an odd parallel to potentially losing the family ranch.
Without overthinking it, he picked up the phone and called her. When her sweet voice answered, he said, “About that ice cream you wanted...”
Thirty minutes later he and Aubrey were sitting outside Dairy Prairie, a new ice-cream shop in Royal. He’d gone with a scoop of rocky road on a waffle cone, while Aubrey had opted for double-chocolate macadamia nut on a wafer cone. Having licked her way down to the base of the cone, she took her first bite. At least the torture part of the evening was over for him. Watching her pink tongue lap away at the sweet cream had sent his brain free-falling into the gutter.
“Doesn’t that taste like Styrofoam?” he asked before taking a bite of his waffle cone. Crisp, sugary deliciousness. “Wafer cones are tragic.”
“I like wafer cones.” She shoved him, rolling her eyes playfully. He soaked up the moment. He’d learned the hard way to treasure her not looking at him like he was a horrible person. “How was your day at the ranch?”
The stress he’d been successfully avoiding rolled back in like the tide. “Peachy.”
“And your sisters?”
“Oh, you know. Chelsea is engaged to Nolan Thurston. Layla is married to Joshua Banks. Morgan is single and maintaining her role as everyone’s favorite Grandin.” Just the facts. He didn’t know how much Aubrey knew, or what she remembered.
“Married, wow. Did I forget the wedding?” Her lips pulled into a small frown.
“No. We didn’t go. They were married in Vegas.”
She took a moment to digest that news, then tilted her head. “Is this where you wait for me to argue that you’re my favorite Grandin?”
“Definitely not,” he answered honestly. “Morgan’s my favorite, so if you chose her, I’d understand.”
“I know you and Chelsea have always been at odds, but at her core she wants what’s best for the family.”
