“Olly, three. Frank’s just got rid of his second and is workin’ on his third. Charlie’s still in his second but, the way things are going, I don’t see that lasting very long.”
“Wow,” I whispered, Gray grinned and I noted, “They’ve been through a lot of women.”
“Hard men to live with.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Lucky Macy’s got more piss and vinegar in her than most. Olly owns and runs the bar. Macy owns and runs Olly. Gran and her don’t get along but Macy don’t care. She still comes every two weeks, cleans the house, does the laundry, does the ironing, puts flowers all around because Macy likes flowers and that’s her way and then she leaves.”
Well, that explained the flowers.
“She and your Gran don’t get along?” I asked.
Gray shook his head. “Macy wants peace in the family. Gran can hold a grudge. Dad being firstborn son meant he inherited the land. Me being his only son meant I inherited it. When Dad died, her boys wanted their slice and didn’t mind letting that be known. They didn’t shut up about it, Gran lost her mind. They’d been marrying, divorcing, carousing and brawling for years, none of this she liked and all of it, dollface, they still do. So when Dad died and they made their play, got slapped back and wouldn’t let it go, she was done. She hasn’t seen any of them in years except when she can’t avoid them if she’s in town and then she ignores them.”
This concerned me.
“Are they still wanting their slice?”
He shook his head again. “They gave up. None of ‘em are bad seeds, they just got a lotta stupid in ‘em. Woke up, paid attention, saw they had a nephew who lost his Dad, a Mom who lost her son at the same time she lost her legs, they lost their brother and they got their heads outta their asses. All of ‘em, in their way, none of those ways good but still, they did it, extended an olive branch. It was too late. Gran was done.”
I felt my face get soft when I whispered, “That’s kind of sad.”
“Yeah,” he replied quietly. “It is. But Codys have owned this land for six generations, Ivey, and it’s always been that way. Tradition. Firstborn son to firstborn son. Over the years, the others lived on the land and worked it. My uncles never did. They turned eighteen, took off and wreaked havoc elsewhere. Gran wasn’t a big fan of that either. But for six generations, it’s been the same. Started as ranchers and horse breeders, Granddad sold off the livestock and put in the orchard,” he grinned again, “looks better, smells better and a lot less hassle. But we’ve always had the horses. The town of Mustang is called Mustang because my great, great grandfather refused to have the town named Cody after him but he captured, broke and bred mustangs so they named it that instead.”
I blinked in shock at learning this information. Then I stared.
Gray kept talking.
“So, seein’ as the Codys were the first to settle in these parts and the town grew up around them and their ranch, tradition is kind of important.”
“The town of Mustang is named Mustang because your family captured, tamed and bred mustangs?” I asked on a breath.
“Yep.”
“The town of Mustang is named Mustang because your family captured, tamed and bred Mustangs?” I repeated like he didn’t answer.
He smiled big and repeated his answer of, “Yep.”
“So, you’re like Mustang royalty.”
His smile got bigger and his beautiful body shook when he again repeated, “Yep.”
“Wow,” I whispered.
His smile grew wide and white and his body shook more as did his voice when he remarked, “You’re lyin’ in the king of Mustang’s bed, wearin’ his shirt after he took your virginity, dollface. Now, aren’t you lucky?”
I kept my eyes glued to his and I knew he was joking but my answer was deadly serious when I said, “Yep.”
He heard it and his smile faded. Then he grabbed the plate, reached across me, dumped it on the bed behind me then his arms were around me, hauling me up his body.
Then he was kissing me.
He tasted of apples and Gray.
It was delicious.
His hand went up his shirt then down in my panties and I had about three seconds of thinking how much I liked his hand in my panties before we heard a knock on the door.
My head came up and both of our gazes turned to the opened door of his bedroom.
Then Gray muttered an annoyed, “Fucking hell, I get a day with my girl in my house all alone and someone’s at the goddamned door.”
He didn’t move. Lying mostly on top of him, I didn’t either.
Another knock came, this one louder.