Page 2 of Buck Me

Danner hums in agreement, his gaze following mine. “That seems to be true. It doesn’t mean they don’t have some things to learn.”

“I’ve heard they haven’t exactly made it easy for you since your arrival…” I trail off.

Danner smirks. But before he can respond, a pair of shrill voices hit a crescendo behind us. It’s all pitch and perk, something like a pair of overly caffeinated cicadas. I already know exactly who I’ll see when I turn. My heart promptly sinks into my chest like a stone in wet cement.

Patty June and Brandi Rose. The unofficial eyes and ears of Sagebrush Creek… and in Patty’s case, Kingridge Ranch, too. One is a gossip columnist without a column, and the other’s a small-town celebrity with delusions of a reality show comeback. Together? They’re a pack of lip-glossed piranhas. And their target tonight… is clearly me.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becki,” Brandi croons, her Southern twang thick enough to drown in. “Bless your heart, you look grown in that backless dress. And good for you, not at all ashamed to show off those curves.” Her eyes rake up and down my body, pausing with pointed emphasis at my cleavage.

“Ashamed?” I cut my eyes at her, arching a brow. My voice is sharp enough to draw blood.

“I hear you graduated. Moved right back home to Sagebrush. Good girl,” Patty June adds with a syrupy smile. “Daddy must be proud.”

Danner’s eyes flick toward mine, and something in them shifts. “Graduated? It has to be from art school.”

Danner has no idea that this conversation is poison. Anything we say can and will be spread like wildfire.

“I wish.” I force a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “No, definitely not art school. My father only had a few approved majors on his list. I’ve got a business degree.”

I shake my head slowly, bitterness creeping in around the edges. I don’t say how much I hated every second of those four years pretending to care about spreadsheets instead of sketchpads. Not with this audience.

“You might’ve gotten that B.A., but you didn’t find that Mrs.” Brandi’s voice goes sing-song. “Unbelievable because you are so sweet. But now you’ve got something to fall back on while you wait for Mr. Right. Maybe get you a job up at the law office. I hear they’re looking for a clerk.”

“And they’ve got more than one attorney who is ready to settle down,” Patty June adds.

“Sure, yeah. Maybe I’ll do that. Or I missed my true calling,” I murmur. I reach for my glass and when I find it empty, I toss back the rest of Danners.

Danner leans in slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Or maybe she’ll open an art school,” he says, eyes gleaming as he tosses the lifeline. “Bring some creativity to this town.”

He winks, and my heart trips over itself. That wink? Illegal. Dangerous. Capable of inspiring regrettable decisions and lifelong infatuation.I can’t join the I heart Kingridge club now, not when I’ve spent a lifetime avoiding it.

“Ladies, if you’ll excuse us.” Danner rises smoothly to his feet and pulls out my chair. “We’re heading to the bar.” He holds out a hand to me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Patty June and Brandi Rose look like their eyes might just fall out of their heads. I hesitate for only half a second before slidingmy hand into his. His palm is rough, and it shoots warmth through me.

The room swells with the sound of collective interest. I can all but see the tongues wagging, but for once, I can’t bring myself to care. The way Danner is looking at me makes me feel seen. Not managed. Not polished. But seen.

I start to stand, but a voice dripping with sarcasm bursts through the buzz of the room like a firecracker.

“With all due respect,Mayor Randolph Bellcourt,I think you should stop talking while you’re ahead.”

CHAPTER 2

BECCA

Two Weeks Before,The Farm to Table Gala at the Velvet Spur

The sound of my father’s name jerks my head up like it’s attached to a string. Every instinct in me screams to brace.

Here we go.

He doesn’t hesitate. Of course, he doesn’t. My father has never met a line he couldn’t cross in the name of politics or pride. His ongoing feud with the Kingridge family is the kind of petty saga that makes you grateful for wine. The Kingridge brothers might be loud and unfiltered, but they aren’t wrong. Watching my father attack them over and over again is humiliating.

But I don’t dare let it show.

I school my face into neutral lines. I keep my eyes calm and my chin high. If I’ve learned anything in twenty-two years as a Bellcourt, it’s that personality is a crime. I am to be a perfect pillar for my father, quiet, supportive, and devoid of anything resembling independent thought.

Especially when his spotlight flicks from the crowd… to me. He selected this red backless dress for me to wear tonight himself. He said it wouldshow off my poise.I think he meant toparademy curves like a campaign prop.I used to hope things would change as I got older. They haven’t. The only thing that’s shifted is the length of my hemlines and how much more control he tries to exert now that I’m grown.

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