King's Country by Marie Johnston

Author:Marie Johnston [Johnston, Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Marie Johnston

CHAPTER 9

Bristol

* * *

I was used to feeling like a rusted nail in a jewelry display, but being around the King women was next level.

Kate was dressed similar to the night we’d met up at the pub. Kendall wore a gauzy burgundy top and cute jean shorts that probably had a brand name I’d never heard of. Her hair was gathered in a top bun that must really be a thing since that was how Savvy wore hers too. Savvy’s impossibly long legs were in leggings, or tight jeans, I couldn’t tell without staring. Then there was Eva with her pixie cut and pink-tipped hair. She might be wearing leggings and a baggy T-shirt full of gamer controls tied at her waist, but she and the others exuded a polished air that I would never attain.

My drying hair was pulled back into a ponytail. I pulled at my plain red Hanes T-shirt. It was clean with no frays. It didn’t seem like enough.

Kendall must’ve sensed my nerves. As soon as I’d walked in, she’d pulled me to the counter and given me strawberries to cut for a fruit salad. We were getting the side dishes ready since Kendall claimed the guys had flocked to the grill like flies to a yard light.

“You’re coming tomorrow, right?” Savvy asked. She’d been tasked with mixing the chopped vegetables into the cooled pasta and dousing the mixture with Italian dressing. My stomach growled. This wasn’t typical Dawson fare, but I was surrounded by good food and I wasn’t going to ignore it.

“Yes.” I owed Dawson. He had plenty of bodies, but I couldn’t stay home when he was working cattle all weekend. I had plenty to do, but so had he when my leg had been in a cast.

Eva took a drink of her beer. “You’re coming back to hang out tomorrow night too, right?”

All the women looked at me, waiting for my answer.

Anxiety tightened my body. The tip of my knife hadn’t moved from where it had sliced through a strawberry. “Sure?”

Eva grinned. “Good. It’ll be fun to actually talk to you instead of running into you here and there.”

I readjusted the paring knife and cut another hunk. My mouth was watering. Fresh strawberries. As fresh as Montana could get, and they were the best in the spring. I could eat a bushel. I loved a good grilled steak—I was a rancher—but all the fruit littering the counter was a luxury. By the time they were marked for sale at the store, mold had usually started to grow.

“Yeah. Same.” I couldn’t claim my conversational skills didn’t need sharpening. I had no skills. I wasn’t invited to birthday parties, or sleepovers, or girls’ nights out.

Savvy swooped in for the save. “Hey, wanna see pictures from our trip?” She poked at her phone. A picture of a couple flashed across the screen. The guy had a lazy grin that reminded me of Dawson and the woman had dark hair and mischievous eyes. “These two are my best friends.

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