Page 3 of Every Single Vow
I take the fresh drink from her hand, smiling as she scoffs in annoyance.
“You do.” I sit her drink down on the bar. “You owe me a dance, Birdie.”
Chapter two
Dakota
The sign to the Mayson Ranch comes into view as the low rumble of the cattle guard sounds below us. I’m riding shotgun, while Ivy sits in the backseat with herfiancé,Maddox. They got engaged less than four hours ago, in the middle of the arena at the annual Mayson Ridge Rodeo. If anyone deserves the fairytale ending its Ivy Mayson. Her cowboy dropped to a knee, dirt and all, and asked her in front of the entire town, along with the rest of the world to be his wife. It was everything a girl dreams of.
My eyes move over to the driver. My other best friend, Cooper. He has a wrist draped over the steering wheel, his other armresting on the console. Another person that deserves the happy ending.He deserves the world.But people like me, we don’t get those. We don’t get the luxury of fate. The white picket fence, two and a half kids, and two matching rocking chairs on a back porch. As much as it stings, I’ve come to terms with it.
The long gravel drive feels more like home than the ratty old trailer I lived in for the majority of my life. I can’t count the times I crept down this driveway. Whether it was in the middle of the afternoon, or the dead of the night. I could never describe the exact emotion it brought on.Peace? Relief?
We pull up to the farmhouse that’s being completely rebuilt. A few months ago, a fire took out Cooper’s childhood home, along with some of the pastureland. It was a financial hit to the ranch, but after it was concluded that foul play was involved by the biggest crook in town, the Mayson’s were able to claim the insurance money and are in the process of rehabilitating this ranch to a better version of itself.
Cooper slams the truck into park and reaches over to silently unclip my seat belt. I roll my eyes before I begin to sing out loud the lyrics to my favorite song with the futile attempt to drown out the feeling that Cooper Mayson stirs within my hollow chest. I’ve been working on ignoring it for years. I’ve yet to accomplish it.
I pull the latch, jumping down from the truck as we all make our exit. My steps are slightly off balance, the tequila still doing its job.
“Whoa!” Cooper’s tone of voice causes me to end my lyrical ensemble mid chorus. “Who the hell are you?” He growls.
My boots are ambling forward as quick as I can, rounding the hood to see a small figure stalk down the front steps of the unfinished farmhouse.
“I’m looking for Dakota Sterling.” The lanky preteen blows a pink bubble, before she tucks the gum back into her mouth.
Something about her is oddly familiar.
“I’m Dakota Sterling.” I move a fraction, my shoulders tight as I take her in.
Long dark hair.
Big blue eyes.
Just like mine.
“Sweet. I’m Arizona Sterling. Mind if I crash?” She asks casually.
Sterling.
I frown. “Who are you?”
She hikes her black backpack up onto her shoulder. “I figured she didn’t tell you.” She rolls her eyes with a sigh. “Surprise. I’m your little sister.”
I blink, before I dart my eyes to Cooper.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
Damn, this is some strong tequila. I’m pretty sure this kid just said she was my sister.
“I’m your sister,” she repeats. “Bea Sterling is my mother.” She waves a hand. “Well, was.”
Bea. The woman who gave birth to me. Half ass raised me. Then left me.
“What do you mean was?”
“She’s dead,” she replies with a blank expression.
“What?” I croak.
