Page 75 of Edge of Unbroken

“Where have you been sleeping?” I ask as I contemplate what to do with Miranda. I can’t leave her here like this.

“In my truck. Remember when we used to do that, Rony?” she says, trying to sound flirty but failing miserably in her inebriated state.

“Yep, and I remember how uncomfortable it was, too,” I say, slowly steering her toward the door. The soles of her boots drag across the floor with each half-hearted step she takes.

“Oh, whatever. I know you loved it. What are you doing?” she asks when I finally just decide to scoop Miranda into my arms and carry her to my truck.

“I’m taking you to the ranch,” I say and kick the door open with my right foot, throwing an apologetic glance at Sterling. He just waves me off, grateful to be rid of Miranda for the time being.

“Your grandma won’t like that one bit,” Miranda muses, her head resting against my chest, her right arm hanging by her side.

“She’ll live,” I say as I carry her across the dirt parking lot. “She wouldn’t be happy with me if she found out I let your tiny ass sleep in the freaking truck, either.”

“Hey, I have a nice ass,” she says, making me chuckle. “What are you going to do with me at your place?” she asks suggestively.

“I’m going to put you to bed so you can sleep off yourtwo beers.” I stop in front of my truck, trying to figure out how to unlock it and get Miranda inside it without having to set her down and risk her falling.

“That sounds nice. Are you going to have your way with me, Rony?” she asks with a sad attempt at wiggling her eyebrows. She sounds as though she’s about to fall asleep.

“Definitely not.” I fumble for my keys and finally manage to unlock the doors. Somehow I’m able to pull open the back driver’s-side door and heave Miranda inside the cabin. I try to get her in a seated position, but she slumps to her right and half lies, half sits with her cheek pressed against the cool leather seat.

“Lame. Such a bummer that you’re so in love with your girlfriend. You and I used to have great sex. Such a beautiful, big…” She trails off. It’s probably for the best.

I shove the door shut and climb into the driver’s seat before turning on the ignition. I turn and check on Miranda, who’s already passed out, then shift the truck into drive and maneuver it out of the dirt parking lot and onto the road.

***

When I finally pull up to my grandparents’ house an hour later, my grandmother is outside sweeping the front porch, eyeing me suspiciously. I usually park the truck by the barn and walk the fifty yards back to the house, but I wasn’t about to schlepp a passed-out Miranda that distance. I hop out of the truck and open the back door. Miranda is still in exactly the same position I left her in, and I have to climb into the cabin to hoist her back into my arms and out of the truck. She doesn’t stir even as I jostle her around rather ungracefully. The moment I step out from behind the truck door with Miranda securely cradled in my arms, my grandma walks toward me.

“Ran, what are you doing? What happened?”

“Morai, can I just get Randi into the house really quick? I’ll explain in a minute.” I move around my grandmother, up the steps, and into the house.

She follows me through the living room and toward the staircase. “Ronan, where are you taking her?” she asks, slightly panicky.

“To bed, Morai. I’ll be right down, I promise,” I say, and climb the stairs to the second floor. I take Miranda to the first bedroom on the left—Steve’s room, the farthest from my own bedroom—where I deposit her, still fast asleep, on the bed. I pull off her boots and throw a blanket over her before closing the door behind me, then face my grandmother downstairs.

She’s standing, hands on her hips, looking at me expectantly. “Care to enlighten me?” she asks, tapping her foot on the hardwood floor.

“Randi needs a place to crash for a while.” I head back toward the front door so I can move the truck, then continue my work on the ranch.

“Ronan Perry Soult,” my grandmother says in a tone that’s all too familiar and makes my heart speed up. I stop and turn to her, my shoulders tense, wantonly triggered by the way she just spoke to me—exactly the way my mother did before she’d hurt me. My grandma must notice the anxiety in my body because her face softens, and she moves toward me to rest her hand on my forearm. “I love you, baby boy, but you’ll need to do better than that. What happened to Miranda?”

“I found her like that at Sterling’s,” I say. “Apparently her dad kicked her out two nights ago; she didn’t say what happened, but she’s been sleeping in her truck.”

“Ran, I know you have a history with that girl, but—”

“Morai, I know you don’t like her. I know you think she’s a bad influence on me and that she’s trouble. But just trust me when I tell you that there’s more to her story.A lot more.”

She looks at me doubtfully, her lips pressed together, brows furrowed.

“She’s a lot more like me than you know,” I say, hoping my grandmother will pick up on what I’m trying to convey without forcing me to disclose details Miranda wouldn’t be willing to share. “I can’t let her sleep in her truck. I’d feel like shit if something happened to her, and I know you would, too.”

She analyzes me for a few long moments, neither of us speaking. “Alright,” she sighs. “She can stay, but I won’t have her be drunk when she stays with us. And no shenanigans.” She wags her finger at me. “I’m going to have her stay in one of the guest cabins once she’s sobered up.”

I smile at her, then stoop to kiss her soft cheek. “Thanks, Morai,” I say, and head back out the door.

Cat

---