King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3) by Marie Johnston (great novels .TXT) 📗

imagine?” Her smile faded. “You think they’d all be cool about it? I wasn’t sure how Aiden would take it, but since the guy had been kind of insulting, I took a chance. He didn’t flinch, and when I made the oil company comment, he just shrugged and nodded—it was priceless.”

“I think Beckett would be a good sport,” Eva said. “Dawson would probably call you Mom first.”

Kate fiddled with her White Claw can. “Like you said, in the right situation, Aiden would be game.”

In unison, they all turned to look at me. I raised my brows.

“What about Xander?” Kendall prodded.

“Um . . .” How would Xander react? He talked about his mom a lot, but he seemed to like Kendall. “I don’t know. Maybe as a joke?”

“Most definitely,” Kendall agreed. “It would only be to mess with someone. I feel like there should be a name besides stepmom for those of us who are similar in age to our stepkids.”

“Isn’t it ‘trophy wife’?” Kate’s eyes flared wide and her cheeks lit red like she was inches from a bonfire. “Oh—”

Kendall sputtered and threw her head back on a laugh. I chuckled with Eva. There’d been no malice in Kate’s statement. The joke in her voice had been clear, but I doubted she was ever that honest with people. She’d been reserved the entire night and I didn’t think that was unusual.

“I was kidding— I—”

Kendall dabbed at the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes. “I know, but that was hilarious. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself.”

After a few minutes, Eva rose. “I have to pee again. Anyone wanna be my posse?”

“Me,” I said, rising.

“We’ll need a name,” Kate said as we were walking to the back hallway. “King’s Queens, or something like that.”

Her comment brought the memory of my wedding night. I am a King and you are my treasure. My heart warmed at the real meaning behind the words. He was a King, but his family was the treasure. I couldn’t imagine spending so much time away from them. It’d been less than a week, but I didn’t want to go. I would eventually, but I wouldn’t want to go far. I missed my sisters. I even missed my parents. But this helped.

I wanted to travel, but I didn’t want to journey all over the world for years on end. So that narrowed down my future aspirations. Being around these women was inspiring. Instead of being intimidated, I was motivated.

Two shadows were tucked deep in the hallway, lit by the exit sign. A slender woman stood tall with worn-jean-clad legs that went on for miles and hair that glowed like the bonfire I’d thought of earlier. The man was older, burly, and standing like an immovable stone.

“I told you to quit selling to him,” the woman growled. She had to be close to my age, maybe a year or two older, and a whole lot more badass. She wasn’t intimidated by the mountain of a man at all. I was and I’d just turned the corner.

“He’s a paying customer. I’m not a bouncer and I have a business to run.”

“Dammit, Errol. You’re taking advantage of him.”

The man snorted. “Ain’t no one taking advantage of your daddy, Bristol.”

Whoa. How many Bristols could there be in little King’s Creek, Montana?

Eva tried to slink into the bathroom, sensing the conversation was just as awkward as I had, but Bristol spotted us at the same moment. The man saw his chance and darted back into the off-sale portion of the building.

Her gaze landed on Eva and recognition lit. Then it landed on me. “The newest addition to the King herd?”

I’d expected the venom, but there was just as much curiosity. Her arms were crossed, but I took a chance.

Sticking my hand out, I said, “I’m Savvy, Xander’s wife.”

The word’s rolled out, still foreign on my tongue.

She eyed me like she didn’t understand a single syllable I’d said. Then she slowly extracted a hand and gave mine a quick shake. “Bristol. The wicked witch of a neighbor that I’m sure you’ve heard all about.”

“You have the hair, but you’re not green.”

Her lips twitched. “It’s the red from the neon lights. Neutralizes my tone.”

Eva pulled up next to me. “Hey, Bristol.”

“Eva, right?” Eva nodded and Bristol took a step back. “Well, I’d better go before I get you into trouble.”

I didn’t have a chance to argue—I wanted to get to know this mystery woman—before she shouldered her way out the exit door, her face tucked into the collar of her shirt.

Eva nudged me with an elbow. “She’s not harmless and that’s why I kind of like her.”

“Why do they hate her so much?”

“There’s history there I don’t understand, but ultimately I think when she didn’t show up to the funeral, they felt like she chose her drunk of a dad over their mom, who’d doted on her.”

I did the math. “She had to have been a kid.”

“Yep. But she backs her dad, every time, no matter what despicable thing he does.”

I had no idea what her dad was like, but I’d been afraid to even tell mine I didn’t want to work for him. Chief was a lot of things, but I knew without meeting Daniel Cartwright that they were nothing alike.

“There’s a lot of history there,” I murmured. It seemed easy enough to ask, to talk with Bristol instead of fighting her head-on.

But then I thought of the times I’d asked Xander to talk to his dad. And when I’d taken the job with Chief and Xander had left. Talking wasn’t his strong suit and it’d almost broken us up once.

Xander

The horses’ nickers carried across the pasture to us. They were tied up on a fence post, grazing on what hadn’t turned brown and brittle yet. I’d packed a blanket and food for me and Savvy. Our picnic was spread out, already eaten. I’d packed myself a leftover roast beef sandwich from the four roasts Dawson had cooked last night after