Page 63 of Wait in the Truck
A smirk works its way to his lips, and he shrugs. “Figured I’d join you, and we could do it together.”
Eyeing the coffees he carries, I quip, “One of those for me, cowboy?”
“You bet.” He hands over a cup before turning his attention back to Kyle. His voice comes out in a low growl. “Stay the fuck away from her.”
I laugh, turning toward the expanse of Kade’s broad chest. “Calm down, Kade. You don’t need to kill him for talking to me.”
Visibly nervous, Kyle practically chokes out, “Are you joking?”
Kade shifts, digging a hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his medallion. Lips quirking into an intimidating smile, low and lethal, he murmurs, “Wanna flip it and find out?”
Eyes bugging out, Kyle rushes off like his pants are on fire.
“All right, cowboy. Was that really necessary?” I question with a raised brow. “Pack up the big dick energy. I’m not a fire hydrant.”
Kade holds the door open for me to walk through. Throwing an arm over my shoulder, he leans in close to murmur, “Wildflower, necessary? No. Enjoyable? Absolutely.”
Tossing me a smirk, Kade cranes his neck, following Kyle’s path through the crowd while shouting, “Hey! Where you goin’? Class is just about to start!” We watch as the poor guy disappears through the double doors, never looking back. Kade turns to me, flashing his dimples and a cheeky grin. “Why’d he run off like I was some sort of deranged killer?”
I toss my head back as a laugh erupts past my lips. “Only for me.”
EPILOGUE: KADE
SUNDAY, ONE WEEK LATER
Sage slipsher arm through mine as we step onto the porch. I scan the yard—still half expecting the sheriff’s cruiser to appear out of nowhere. Old habits die hard, I guess. No more snooping, no more questions about a missing father or a freak accident in a river. We’re clear.
When we push through the front door, the welcome assault of roast beef, gravy, and fresh biscuits floats from the kitchen, where Grandma Jo is most definitely reigning supreme. As we edge closer, I hear Cole, Jace, and Rhett talking.
We reach the dining room, where the table’s already set. Grandma Jo stands at the head like a battlefield general, spoon in one hand, dish towel in the other. Her gray hair’s coiled in a tidy bun that somehow enhances her hawklike stare.
“’Bout time, you two,” she scolds lightly, then wags her finger at the rest of the clan. “Sit your scrawny butts down. We’ll say grace before this gravy turns into concrete.”
Cole and Jace shuffle to their chairs, and Rhett stands off to the side, arms crossed like a defiant teen. He’s been in a foul mood lately, and if I had to guess why, my money is on the latest town gossip—Noah Lane has been nominated for Best Female Country Star of the Year. I think he’s finally getting the picture: She’s never coming back to the small town she left behind or to the heart she shattered the day she walked away.
I toss my brother a weak smile. Sage and I settle on the opposite side of the table. The overhead light casts a golden glow, giving the old wood a warm sheen—this family dinner is the kind of normal we’ve gone too long without.
Grandma Jo rolls her eyes heavenward. “Lord, thank you for keepin’ these kids out of prison, for stopping the rain that was drownin’ our crops, and for remindin’ me to pull the biscuits out before they burned. Amen.”
“Amen,” we echo. I hide a grin. It’s classic Grandma Jo, short and to the point.
We load our plates, passing bowls of mashed potatoes, green beans slick with butter, and that roast beef that’s making my stomach rumble.
The conversation starts mild: Cole and Jace ribbing each other about which tractor is better. Grandma Jogriping about some ladies in her smut club. Meanwhile, Rhett’s quieter, swirling his fork in the gravy, tension in his jaw.
Halfway through dinner, Sage’s phone pings. She glances down, eyebrows flicking up, and I lean closer. “That better not be Kyle,” I murmur under my breath, flashing her the dimples she loves so much.
With a roll of her eyes, she shakes her head. Hesitating, she glances toward my brother. “No… it’s, um… It’s Noah.” Her voice dips, uncertain. Her gaze bounces between me and Rhett, who stiffens. “She wants me to come to LA next week.” She flashes her phone screen in my direction, showing off a photo of Noah’s manicured hand that houses a rock bigger and brighter than any star in the Idaho sky. Underneath are the wordsI’m getting married, and I need my bestie to help me plan my last night as a single woman.
“She wants you to help organize her bachelorette party?”
Cole and Jace pause mid-conversation, but it’s Rhett who reacts. His fork clatters against the plate, eyes narrowing. “She’s fuckin’ engaged?” he demands, voice rough.
Sage shrugs, guilt in her eyes. “She just told me. We haven’t had much contact the last few months that she’s been on tour.”
A hush falls over the table. Even Grandma Jo lowersher utensils, eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. Rhett pushes his plate an inch away, like he’s lost his appetite. He scrapes his chair back abruptly, muttering, “She’s fuckin’ engaged,” under his breath like a mantra. He stands, swallowing hard. “I, uh… need some air.” He bolts from the room, leaving a tense silence in his wake.
I clear my throat, trying to ease the tension. This must be hard for him, especially considering when he asked her thatsame question, her answer had been a heart-shattering no. Clearly, that wound’s not scabbed over.
