Page 6 of Sweet Obsession (Honeysuckle, Texas #5)

“Where the hell are you?” That would be the third time in as many hours that Blake’s manager sent him a text.

The man had tried calling once or twice yesterday, and again today.

Apparently now he’d opted to blow up Blake’s phone.

Only he wasn’t ready to tell Phil where he was or why he was here.

Not yet. That was just one thing he had to work out.

If taking care of his grandmother meant canceling the upcoming European tour, he didn’t want to think of the media firestorm that would create—not to mention the hit it would mean to his band members and road crew’s wallet.

What he needed was a cold drink, his guitar, and to sit on the back porch like he would when he and Kade were kids. The best music always came to him on the Sweet Ranch, maybe he’d find the peace he needed there as well.

Padding barefoot down the familiar staircase, a sliver of light caught his attention.

Charlie Sweet’s office door stood slightly ajar, warm lamplight spilling into the hallway.

Blake hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to intrude, but something about the late hour and the solitary light tugged at his curiosity.

He approached quietly and peered through the crack.

Hunched over the desk, Preston stared at the computer screen.

Stacks of papers were scattered around him, some piled higher than others.

Even from the doorway, Blake could see the tension in his friend’s shoulders.

Part of him thought it prudent to step back and leave the man to his work, another part of him considered the late hour and the deep frown etched between Preston’s brows. Friends didn’t abandon friends.

Gently, Blake rapped at the door.

Preston’s face lifted, his eyes tired. “Hey, man. What has you up at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same.” Blake inched into the room.

Tossing a pen on the desk, Preston rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the desk chair.

“No offense, but you look like hell.” Blake sank into the leather chair across from the desk, the same spot where he’d sat countless times as a kid when Charlie Sweet had dispensed advice and reproof in equal measure.

“It’s been a tough year.”

A decade or so ago, he would have jumped right in and peppered his friend’s brother with questions, but those days when they were all as thick as proverbial thieves were long gone. “How long have you and Sarah Sue been married now?”

A light shone in his eyes. Whatever had given him a rough time clearly wasn’t his wife. “Not long enough.”

Wow, that was not the answer he expected.

“I’m afraid our problems have nothing to do with Sarah Sue. Well,” he chuckled, “unless you count her marrying me for money.”

Blake blinked. “Say again?”

“Sorry.” For the next while, without any hesitation, still treating Blake like one of the family, Preston explained how after Charlie Sweet passed, their old foreman Ray swindled his family of anything that wasn’t nailed down along with all the money their dad had borrowed to take the ranch to the next level.

The sum of which had Blake’s mouth going dry. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, that about covers it. We were literally days from foreclosure.” Preston continued to explain about the trust fund and how Sarah Sue stepped up to save the day.

“Holy Christmas. How did I not know y’all were trust fund brats?”

“We’re not really. What we’ve been doing is scrambling to save the ranch.”

Blake blinked, processing this information. “Wait. So all these recent weddings…”

“Weren’t exactly coincidental,” Preston confirmed. “Sarah Sue, Jess, Jackie—they all married into the family knowing it was a business arrangement. At least initially.”

“Hold up.” Blake leaned forward, his voice rising slightly, everyone looked so very happy and so very much in love—how could they be acting? “Y’all are just pretending?”

“Not at all. We all fell fast and hard.”

Now that made way more sense than any pretense.

“The thing is, that makes it tough for Jillian,” Preston continued.

“Tough?” Blake’s gaze narrowed.

Looking at Blake, Preston paused, almost seemed to be sizing him up. “We’re still not out of the woods so,” he shrugged, “it’s Jillian’s turn. And eventually Kade will need to help out. Once the year is over for each marriage and we get the larger lump sums, we should be golden.”

“But first, Jillian and Kade need to marry for money.” It wasn’t really a question.

Preston’s face folded into a grimace. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

This was insane. Blake had to be dreaming. How could everyone in this family marry for business? This was the kind of craziness you’d see in a bad rom-com movie. “And if they don’t get married?”

Preston’s silence was all the answer Blake needed.

Running a hand through his hair, he tried to wrap his mind around it all.

The Sweet family had always been his sanctuary, his second home when his own felt too small or too complicated.

The idea that they were struggling didn’t compute.

Images of young Jillian, a bright eyed and curious kid, hiding by the porch, watching him tinker on his guitar popped into his head—the thought that this now grown woman might be pressured into marriage for money, made something fierce and protective rise in his chest. “There’s got to be another way. ”

“We’ve explored every option.” Preston’s voice was flat with exhaustion. “Believe me.”

Just then, the soft padding of footsteps outside the office, followed by a slight creak of the door, made both men look up.

Jillian stood in the doorway, her eyes wide, dressed in a soft nightshirt, clearly unable to sleep either.

She took in the scene—Preston, the papers, and him—and her gaze settled on Blake, a question in her eyes mirrored the chaos now churning in his own mind.

“Are we having a party?” In an effort to hide her exhaustion from tossing and turning, Jillian took a stab at lighthearted.

“Seems no one is sleeping tonight.” Preston closed the lid on the laptop and heaved a deep sigh. “I was just catching Blake up on the challenges the ranch has had this year.”

“Oh?” She felt her brows arch.

Preston nodded, then pushed to his feet. “I’m dead and too dumb to fall over. You two will have to entertain each other.”

Jillian’s cheeks warmed as thoughts of how to entertain each other flashed inappropriately in front of her.

From the way Blake sank a little lower in his seat, she wondered if his mind had taken a similar turn. “I was on my way to the kitchen for a drink.”

“Me too.” Jillian inched backward. Her intention had been not for a drink but to dive into a container of whatever ice cream called to her.

The three of them shuffled out of the room, Preston turning at the staircase and working his way upstairs, she and Blake made their way to the kitchen.

“What would you like?” Jillian pulled two bowls out of the cupboard.

Blake walked to the opposite cupboard, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he discovered like his grandmother’s house, things were in the same place they’d been for ages. “Just some water.”

Her head in the freezer, she moved the contents about, pulling out a container in each hand and holding them out to show their guest. “I have vanilla and butter pecan.”

The slight smile widened to a full grin. “Butter pecan.”

They walked back and forth past each other, Blake retrieving silverware from the drawer and napkins from the counter. Jillian stocked up with whipped cream, syrup toppings, maraschino cherry jar, and some chopped nuts.

His gaze following her from the fridge to table, their eyes met and Jillian shrugged, setting the ingredients on the table. “Hey, if we’re going to do it, we might as well do it right.”

This time, his brows rose high on his forehead and she realized how what she’d said sounded. This time there was no doubt where their minds had wandered. Immediately, her cheeks flushed with heat again.

Blake’s smile bloomed impossibly wider. “You’re cute when you blush. I don’t remember you blushing much as a kid.”

At ten she was too dang young to understand anything about sex and double entendres. Not sure what she could possibly say, she opted to shrug and dig into the frozen container of butter pecan ice cream. Doling two large scoops into a bowl, she lifted her gaze to meet his. “More?”

He shook his head. “No, that’s plenty.”

She slid the bowl in front of him and filled her own bowl as he smothered his cold confection in whipped cream and marshmallow syrup.

Not to be shown up, she added twice as much whipped cream and nuts as well.

Together, they ate silently for a few minutes, when Blake stabbed his spoon into the mound of melting ice cream and looked up at her. “Are you really going to get married for the trust?”

Unable to meet his gaze, she stirred at the whipped cream. “That’s the plan.”

“Who?”

She dared lift her eyes to meet his. “Who?”

“Who are you going to marry for money instead of love?”

“It’s not like that.” She stabbed at the dessert again. “It’s a business deal. A marriage of convenience.” She lifted her chin and leveled her gaze with his. “In name only.”

He actually scoffed. “Right. Like any man would be willing to marry you and stay out of your bed.”

His tone was so bitter, she couldn’t decide if that was an insult or a compliment.

“Sorry.” He sighed and let his spoon rest in the bowl. “It’s not my business, and certainly not my place to judge.”

She didn’t know why, but it really bothered her that he might think less of her because of what she had to do to help the family save the ranch.

“It’s complicated. There are a lot of conditions.

Finding an agreeable male is only half the problem.

My mother also has to believe that I’ve fallen head over boot heels in love and can’t wait to marry my soul mate. ”

“So your mother doesn’t know?”

“Absolutely not. She’d never agree to a stunt like this. Not even to save the ranch.”

Under his breath, she was pretty sure he’d muttered something like smart woman .

“With Preston it was easy because Sarah Sue had been a neighbor and friend all of our lives. Carson had a son in college so that one was a no-brainer. Garrett was a little weird because he met Jackie in a bar, but apparently Mom is a romantic who believes in love at first sight. And of course, like Preston and Sarah, Rachel and Jim had been the brunt of town gossip in their youth which made it easy to believe they’d come to their senses. ”

“Is that what it’s called nowadays? Coming to your senses?” Blake shook his head. “Sorry, forget I said that. You’re right. You’re all right. This ranch is worth saving, no matter the cost.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t know why, but it mattered to her that he understood and didn’t judge.

His phone dinged, and Blake rolled his eyes.

“Something wrong?”

Blake shook his head. “Not really. Apparently, my manager doesn’t believe in sleeping either.”

“Oh.” She watched him closely as he glanced at his phone, and grinding his teeth, turned the thing off. Apparently, he had more problems to deal with than just a forgetful grandmother. Wasn’t life just peachy all around?