King's Country (Oil Kings #4) - Marie Johnston Page 0,54

how different they were than how I’d thought of them growing up. I could be deliriously happy when I was with Dawson.

But I was the odd one out, and that would never change.

Dawson

I leaned against the barn door. Kittens twined around my ankles. Staring at my phone, I gently shook my leg as one ambitious tabby tried to climb up.

Hey, kiddo. I’ll buy you supper. Meet me at Hogan’s.

It was the first of June and Grams was in town. Even worse, she was in town to meet with me. The countdown was on. It was T minus thirty-six days before I turned twenty-nine. I hadn’t decided to do anything about the trust but enjoy my time with Bristol. Build her faith in me.

Wrong or right, the conclusion I’d come to, thanks to my brothers’ help, was that the best course of action was to build a solid foundation of trust. Then no matter what shit show happened before my birthday, she’d trust me. She’d have faith in us.

The weekend we’d worked cattle had been a good start. She’d been around my brothers with no arguments. No barbs tossed back and forth. She’d come over both nights they were in town and watched the banter between my brothers and me like we were her personal TV show.

The last few weeks had been good. I did my job. She did hers. Sometimes we met up for lunch or dinner at my place. Other times we pitched in to help each other. I could spend every night with her, but I held back.

She hadn’t stayed at my place yet. I had no idea why. Was she still unsure about us?

The message reminder buzzed on my phone. Damn. I had to let Grams know. If I didn’t meet her, she’d come out here and I didn’t trust her within a mile of Bristol’s place. If anything could scare Bristol off, it’d be Grams.

There was a new message from Grams. See you at 7.

I hadn’t answered yet, but to Grams, that didn’t matter. I sent back a K. Grams wouldn’t be deterred and I might as well face-off with her and tell her to butt out. The trust was mine to go for or not as I pleased.

I worked for a couple more hours. The horse trailer blew a tire. I replaced that, then filled in some large divots in the driveway. Running the big John Deere up and down it since March had taken its toll on the gravel. One good rain, and those holes would make their own mud pit, deep enough to pop a tire and wet enough to splash half the pickup with muck. After I was done, I went to the house and cleaned up. I put on black jeans and a navy blue polo. It wasn’t like it was a date. Besides, I never had to worry about chasing Bristol off because I had a little dirt on my boots.

The drive to town went fast. I parked by Grams’s SUV and went inside.

Skylar met me at the door. Her smile was tense. “How’s it going, Dawson?”

“Good. You?”

“Oh. You know.” She studied me. “How’s Bristol?”

“Good, thanks for asking.” Was this the turn we’d been hoping for? People understood the feud had died with us and would start accepting Bristol?

“Mm.” That was all she said as she led me around the pillars that blocked the entrance off from the rest of the place. I thought we’d go to the main dining area, but she led me back to the meeting room. What the hell?

The door to the special back room was propped open. Grams’s silver bob was easy to spot. My steps faltered. She wasn’t alone.

My teeth ground together harder the closer I got. The person with Grams was a young woman.

Skylar stood off to the side of the entrance. She looked from the young woman, who wasn’t dressed nearly as casually as I was, to me. “Have a good meal. Your server will be right in.”

Yeah. I could see what this looked like. Over a month ago, I’d chewed Skylar out for how she’d treated Bristol and now I was meeting with a woman close to my age who was dressed in a tight black cocktail dress with impressive cleavage on display. Her style wasn’t subtle. Not even Grams’s presence could make it look like this was a casual setup.

“Grams.” I went to the table, leaned down, and kissed her.

“Dawson.” Grams beamed, her gaze going to the young lady. “This