Page 100 of Dust Storm

CASSANDRA

“So, this is weird.” Becks closed her front door and let out a heavy breath.

I watched warily as she rested her hands on top of her belly. “Are you sure you should be leaving the property without your designated driver?”

She scooped her red hair into a bun and tied it up on top of her head. “You can drive if I go into labor.”

I laughed. “You trustmeto drive?”

Becks laughed as she lumbered down the porch steps. “Let me guess. At least six months since you’ve driven a car?”

“Eighteen months,” I said as I followed her to Nate’s truck. “Tripp had a driver, and if I was traveling with a client, I just rode with them and their driver.”

“Ah, the city life,” she said as she heaved herself up into the driver’s seat.

It felt strange opening my own door. Christian always picked at me for trying, but I shook it off and climbed in.

Nathan Griffith’s truck had the same sort of smell that Christian’s did. It was a comforting cocktail of motor oil, hay, and cologne.

“Do you ever miss it?” I asked as she pulled away from the house.

I stared in the side mirror as Christian’s house grew to a faint speck. It was Saturday, so Bree and Gracie were out of school and running circles around the front yard. Sadie deemed it fit to sit on the top step of the porch and keep a watchful eye on them from the shade, ready to herd them if necessary.

I had questioned Christian when he said he and his brothers were going to spend their Saturday working on the cabins. Bree and Gracie were just left there? Alone?

With an annoyingly smug look on his face, Christian promised me they were fine.

“What? Do I miss living in Manhattan?” Becks shook her head. “Not in the least. I kind of dread going back to work and flying up there. Missing it was only a problem during my first trimester. I craved hotdogs, but I wanted the ones from the cart outside the studio. Nothing else sounded good.”

I peeled my eyes away from the girls and focused on the drive out of the ranch. “How much longer until you’re due?”

Becks huffed as she adjusted the seatbelt over her belly. “Any day now. I’m technically due next week, but my OB said I might have to be induced. We’ll see what happens at my next appointment.” She looked over and smiled as she checked to make sure the road was clear before turning out of the ranch’s driveway. “I’m glad you suggested this. It’s been ages since I’ve gone out with a girlfriend. You know—since that damn ranch is flooded with cowboys. Momma Griff is great, but she helps with Chris’s girls so much that I don’t want to take up her time getting our nails done, you know?”

I faked a smile to ease my discomfort. I didn’t know how to go out with friends. I didn’t do that. I worked. I attended events. Pampering was done on my own time when I needed to decompress or do research.

But I wanted to leave the ranch. Getting Becks in on it was the easiest way for Christian to let me leave without an inquisition.

“Why don’t you come up to the house when Claire cooks? Everyone does.”

I artfully avoided those big family dinners, always conjuring some excuse as to why I’d just stay back at Christian’s house and eat a sandwich or whatever leftovers he brought.

I have a headache.

I told my parents I’d call and they’re at that age—I need to make sure they’re okay.

I’m expecting a call from the investment team about the revitalization project.

I’m not used to your early mornings. I’m going to bed early.

I talked to a lot of people today. I just need a quiet night to myself.

“I’m not family,” I said as if it was as simple as that. “I don’t want to intrude.”

Becks laughed. “You’re living with Chris. The line between personal and professional has already been crossed.” I stiffened, and Becks slammed on the brakes. “Wait—” she gasped.

I pressed my fingers to my temples. “Don’t go there.”

She threw her head back. “Oh my god! How did I not see it before? I blame the hormones. They’ve made me insane. Butoh my god!”

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