Page 11 of Desert Sky (RB MC #4)

JD

F ive and a half years later…

“The ladies still have eyes for you.”

I shrug, ignoring the blonde behind my right shoulder as I wink at Tess right as my lips touch the cool glass bottle she placed on the bar before me.

“And you’ve gotten prettier.” I place a hundred down on the worn oak bar, waving away her attempts to give me change.

“I ain’t charity, JD.”

“Never said you were.”

“Then what’s this?” She holds the crisp bills in her tiny hand.

“A tip?” My free hand lifts the brim of my custom made Stetson which set me back over twelve hundred.

“Excuse me.” A breathy voice croons somewhere way too close to my ear. Over-sweet breath lands on me as I turn. Three inch, hot-pink nails attached to a warm palm land on my left pec causes my muscle to involuntarily flex.

My eyes narrow as they journey up to her over-done face. Her baby blue pupils dilate as her hand slowly starts to slide down my chest.

“No, excuse me, ma’am.” I let my South Texan drawl take away the sting off the rejection I’m about to land as I deftly remove her hand from my person.

“Aren’t you going buy me a drink? I’m awfully thirsty,” she licks her plump lips as she eye fucks my abs and pecs before glancing lower to see what I’m packing below my belt.

Which is pretty impressive, not that this one will ever find out.

“I’m parched and you, handsome stranger are just the tall, cool drink of water, I’ve been needing. ”

“I can tell,” I smirk, turning my back on the blonde, rolling my eyes as Tess, who still tends the bar all the while watching my interaction with the woman. “Help me, please…,” I mouth as the hot pink nails decide to latch onto my forearm this time.

Tess’s eyes gleam mischievously as she leans on the bar and cocks a hip. “Piper, you snagged him real quick. JD just landed back in town yesterday. Haven’t seen him around these parts in what… five years?”

“More like six, “I grunt, as Piper steps closer into my personal space, the tips of her what I’m sure are fake as fuck breasts gently nip across my back.

“And he’s available?”

Damn, the woman is in heat, not even bothering to hide it as her nails dance up and down my arm.

“Is he?” Tess responds, the tips of her mouth tipped up as she wipes a rag across the bar.

“I got myself an ole lady back in Austin.” I reply, dryly, removing Piper’s hand for the second time in under two minutes.

“Damn shame, she ain’t here.” That annoying voice, sings. Tap dancing across every nerve along my spine .

“Damn right,” I repeat, turning away and this time taking my beer with me.

“What his problem?”

I listen, as Piper moves to my place at the bar.

“He never liked this town.”

“Why, not?”

“It’s haunted.”

Piper’s laugh is a little too high-pitched as she exclaims, “Never heard that. The only thing scary here is a rattler if they get into your garage.”

“The ghosts here, only haunt JD,” Tess replies.

Cursing, I turn on my heel, finish my beer and head out the door.

Tess knew which buttons to press since she’s probably pissed at all the crisp hundreds I stuffed into her tip jar.

But fuck if she didn’t have me pegged.

I am running from ghosts that haunt me still. I thought leaving the land of where she once walked with me would ease some of the heartache. But it didn’t. This town is a wound that never heals and right about now, it feels as if fresh blood is seeping from the wound.

I never came back since that Christmas my freshman year. Never wanted to.

I hated that my mother and my brothers never got me… never understood why I didn’t take with both hands the empire that was practically served up on a platter.

The desert sun, pierces my eyes as I step out from the broken down wood awning above the bar’s door. It feels like tiny fire ants biting at once. A sharp headache forms. I drank too much of Tess’s whiskey. Wincing, I pull out my polarized aviators as I walk toward my truck.

Fuck this dustbowl town.

Fuck Tess for being the only friend I thought I still had here. Six years since I walked into her father’s bar, the little shit wasted no time giving me sass while picking at old wounds she somehow knew I still carried.

Wounds of the heart never heal. People say time and all that bullshit but no amount of fucking, money, or status has been able to take away the burn still left behind all these years when she ran out on me.

For some other man?

I didn’t believe it. But I saw the tapes and photos. Some even had audio of my Skye—my world—telling another man she was only with me for money. They laughed as they kissed.

I felt as if I had died.

The boy version of me and everything I had believed—I buried that night along the banks of the Charles River and I never looked back.

But now that I was forced to come home—memories flooded my mind and wouldn’t stop fucking with me.

Wide, doe eyes. Hair like fire.

Slim body, that quivered when we touched.

Mouth that tasted like ripe cherries.

Skin that smelled like spring rain.

Red did a number on me.

That girl had me so whipped, I once walked three miles after my first truck died, just to kiss her goodnight.

My brothers made fun of me; called me pussy-whipped and all kinds of shit.

I was nineteen.

Reckless.

Cocky as hell—thinking Red would never want to let go of what we shared, cause I sure as fuck never did.

I never wanted to look at another girl. Never would’ve if she hadn’t disappeared, leaving me with the taste of our love still fresh on my tongue. My body burning and aching to join with hers.

We did it everywhere.

The back of my truck.

Her shower.

On a Mexican blanket at midnight under the stars our first time.

But those memories seem like a lifetime ago.

I stuffed them all away.

Securely locked behind bars.

Since every single one is laced with her.

The way she tasted.

The way she made me feel.

Invincible like a God.

Until she left town.

Disappearing like a wisp of smoke, leaving only the burn of our love behind.

I spent thousands on trying to track her down. But Red was smarter than anyone else gave her credit. She ran somewhere so far, all my family’s money and influence couldn’t find a trace.

My mother was a gentle-bred northern snob, my father a ranch tycoon who inherited a thousand acres, the best bred mustangs, and gold left over from the rush my great great grandfather got rich from. They met through certain circles…

My family not only owned the ranch here in New Mexico. but gemstone mines along the Appalachian Trail. Announcing my intentions to propose to my high school girlfriend whose mother waited tables at the trucker bar off the interstate didn’t go over well at family dinner.

My mother’s face pruned up when I asked her to open the vault for my grandmother’s ring .

The one I wanted to put on Red’s finger.

Mother was so horrified by the idea; every little wrinkle that no expensive creams could stop from forming reshaped her face.

I never got that ring. Instead I was subject to a strict sit down by my father and brothers. Over bourbon and a blazing fire, my ass was chewed out about bloodlines, lineage, and genetics.

I fired back that breeding was something Red and I knew a lot about. My father threw his glass into the fire.

It blazed like hell receiving a fresh soul.

My brother’s decided to back them, instead of me. I was young and reckless and too pussy-whipped to see what was right in front of my face—my parents probably paid her off and she took the money to go with her secret lover. Story over. Not the ending I saw coming.

My hands rest on the wheel as I glance in the rearview mirror meeting the icy chips of my own blue eyes. The present felt no better than the past.

Woman like what they saw.

My face is just as chiseled as my body. My cheekbones are tan and prominent thanks to the Cherokee my great great-great grandmother supposedly slept with when my great great-great grandfather was away at war.

He never came back, but somehow the family line continued.

My mother’s Norwegian roots got passed down to me while my brothers took after the Cherokee DNA.

After few generations of proper“breeding” some genes remain firm.

Most of the Northport men are tall, tan, with dark hair and eyes. All of us Ivy league educated to run our families businesses. I’m cut from the same cloth but my hair and beard have streaks of dark gold. I wear the genes and money well, just as expected—but I never felt comfortable in my own skin.

Red got that.

She saw me.

Red noticed all the cracks in the perfect facade my family wanted me to present to the outside world.

Shaking my head, I pressed my foot on the gas. No sense reliving all this shit. Dirt and dust kick up from the oversized tires on my truck as I race out of the lot.

Fuck this town and all my father’s money.

I never wanted anything but her .

But she’s gone and so is the boy I was.

As soon as this business with my older brother Cal, is finished I’m bugging the fuck out—this time never coming back. My life in Austin suits me just fine.

Fast women.

My corporate job that overpays.

The heat of the sun that almost feels like home and the fact I’m far enough away from the Northport name.

I want no part of the ranch or its expansive log wood mansion that felt like living in a prison with caviar and champagne being served with a side of ‘ you better live your life up to our fucking blue blood expectations.’

I turn down the main highway toward the ranch, but it’s the last place I fucking want to be.

My dad’s death a few months back really fucked things up.

According to his lawyer— after my mother gets her millions to depart New Mexico, which is what she wanted—everything would be evenly split only if each of us went back to Santa Fe to work the ranch for at least three months a clip every year.

The gemstone mine in Appalachia stayed in the family trust. I refused the deal, prepared to walk away from all of my inheritance …

The ringing of my cell through CarPlay interrupts my thoughts…

“Call from Mother,” Siri informs me.

I debate pressing ignore, but she is fucking persistent if nothing else.

“What is it, Ma?”

“Jaxson Daniels!”

I roll my eyes, knowing my casual language pisses her the fuck off. I imagine her cheeks are a nice shade of low red without her Chanel blusher.

Snorting, at her indignant tone, I replied, “How can I be of service?” As my mouth smirks, remembering the blonde I left at the bar and what kind of service she was looking for.

“Cal and my attorney are waiting.”

“You should be kissing my ass that I even came home.”

After two beats of silence she finally replies. “You weren’t even his son.”

My truck serves on the road. Buzzing feels my ears. I right the wheel, heart hammering hard.

“Good,” I grunt—“fucking hated that man.”

She crushed me. Fucking crushed me, just now out of nowhere, but I’ll be damned if my pit viper of a mother would ever witness it.

“Who is he?”

“Your father?” She laughs huskily. “Just some no one I was with once, just to prove to your father I wasn’t totally his.”

“Did he know?”

“About you? He always wondered but I threatened to take half the ranch in a divorce so he never did a DNA test. At least none that I know of. Then we had Colton and he forgave me for my little indiscretion. I even named you JD for the liquor I was drinking when I conceived you… Jaxson Daniels more like JD Daniels,” she cackled.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

I almost hear her shrug. “because he’s gone and I want more money.”

“Take it. I never wanted it.”

“You have to stay three months… I want your share.”

“What will you give me in return? That’s a big ask, especially coming from you, Mommy dearest.”

“Her. Every damn detail of that trailer park trash girl you lost your virginity to.”

She had me reeling again. My mother always knew Red was my weakness. But I’ll be damned if she holds my fucking past and a once broken heart over my head.

“You are a fucking liar, Mother. Besides she was years ago…”

“Do you really think I’d let you give my mother’s ring and your father’s money into the greedy palms of some trailer trash girl?” She laughs hideously. “I had her tailed the second you touched her.”

“You’re the reason she left?”

“No dear, thank you for making it easy for me. She left on her own. I didn’t even have to lift a pinky. Although she did have someone else helping her stage her disappearance and fake relationship.”

“Where is she?” I grit out.

“Come home to Mama first, if you want to find out…”

“Bitch!”

My index finger punched the Apple Car Play Screen, disconnecting the call. That sucker punch hurt more than knowing I’m a bastard. But hey, I wear it well. Always acted like one. Now it fits better than the designer shit she always insisted I wore.

Before I leave the foothills of Santa Fe, I’m going to make sure my mother doesn’t get a damn dime.

If money is the only thing she cares about—I’ll do my best to make sure she gets none.

I’ll tie her up in court for months. Make her spend what money she has on legal fees.

After all I learned from the best—mommy dearest, of course.

My mind reels, but I know one thing. I’m gonna find my girl. Bring her ass home. Smack it for breaking my heart. Find out why she ran out on us. I’m gonna fuck Red right outta my system while locking down this damn thing that beats in my chest extra hard at the thought of having her again.

“Fuck!” My hand slaps the wheel. “We could’ve faced anyone or anything together, baby girl.” My broken whisper heard by no one gets drowned out by the tires rolling over fancy crushed white stone that leads the way to the ranch. The steel gate was left wide open.

“Ready or not, here I fucking come.”