King's Country (Oil Kings #4) - Marie Johnston Page 0,84

and Bucket had enough to eat, but I didn’t care about myself.

I wiped sweat off my forehead. The shed door was open, but the wind had died during the night. It wasn’t stifling, but I was hot and cranky.

If I kept working without fuel, I was going to hurt myself. The last thing I needed, but what I really wanted, was Dawson riding in to save the day again.

I tossed the helmet on the counter and swiped at more sweat with my forearm.

I turned around and jumped. Dawson was leaning against the door of the shop, his long, lean form outlined by the sun. He wasn’t wearing his hat and that damn lock of hair had fallen over his forehead. My fingers itched to brush it aside.

“I was worried about you,” he said.

Why hadn’t Daisy barked? I would’ve known it was him by the joyous sounds she made when he idled down the drive. But she was probably passed out in the barn. I wasn’t the only one that had slept like shit.

“I stayed at the cabin.” I’d needed the peace. I hadn’t found it.

“I would’ve come, but I didn’t know if you’d want to see me.”

I lifted a shoulder. I didn’t know either. “How’s your grandma?”

“She’s getting discharged. They didn’t find anything wrong. She was put on blood pressure meds and refuses to take the anxiety meds they gave her.”

Sounded like Emilia Boyd. “Don’t you need to be there?”

“Xander and Aiden rode up. Aiden will drive her back.”

“Did all your brothers come up?”

“Yeah. Dad too.” A furrow developed between his brows. Here it was. The talk I didn’t want to have. “Bristol, about the trust . . .”

“It’s not my money. I get it.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you. No matter what, you would’ve been hurt and that was the last thing I wanted.”

“So, what exactly is this trust about?” I wanted to hear it from him. My traitorous mind wanted to defend him. He had to be the one to tell me that he didn’t want to marry me. That he didn’t want to give up the money.

He wandered in. I stayed where I was. Getting closer to him was a bad idea when my heart hurt this bad.

“Mama set it up so that we’d each get an equal share if we were married for a year by the time we turned thirty. After that, if we got divorced, our spouse would get half. It couldn’t be touched by a prenup.”

I waited. That wasn’t the part that hurt so much. Oh, it was its own knife through the gut. My logical brain didn’t care that we’d only been dating for a couple of months. Too early to get engaged or married in most relationships. But my heart ignored the major details.

His lips flattened, but he continued. “And if we weren’t married by the time we were twenty-nine, or we got divorced before we were married a year, then the trust went to you and your dad. But since your dad’s gone, it’d go to you.” The last sentence was a whisper.

I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans. I’d stuffed my clothes from yesterday in my dirty laundry pile and didn’t care if I touched them again. “I guess Pop would’ve blown it all.”

“My brothers love their wives.”

“But they only married them to get the money.”

Regret rippled through Dawson’s features. “Yes.”

“And the woman Emilia lined up for you?”

“I wasn’t interested.”

“It’s a lot of money.”

“I want you. I want to be with you.” He inched closer. “I want you to get the money.”

So why hadn’t he talked to me? I hugged my arms across my waist. “Don’t.”

“Bristol—”

“No, Dawson. I don’t know what to think.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But you did.” Tears burned the backs of my eyes. I did not want to cry in front of him. If I cried, he’d be the one I yearned to hold me. I blinked, but the tears won. “It hurts a lot.”

“I didn’t know what to do.”

I licked my lower lip trying to keep from sobbing. “I think that’s what hurts the most. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what to do about me.”

“What we have is—”

“Special. Yeah, you’ve said that. But you couldn’t be honest about something really fucking important. You weren’t honest about your grandmother trying to bribe you with another woman while we were dating. Instead, you came here and we . . .” I shook my head. Tears tracked down my