Page 87 of Love Me, I Dare You

Nash smirks, aware of my father’s surprise. “I have the deed in my pocket. I can show it to you if you’d like, sir. But as of two weeks ago, Franklin signed ownership over to his eldest son.”

“Nash, what the fuck did you do?” Monty asks, a mix of pride and anger in his question. Angry that his brother has yet again done something reckless without confining in him, and proud that he’s standing up to the man at the head of the table who’s done nothing but stir up trouble for these men their entire lives.

“When I went to visit our father, I took him the paperwork necessary. Told him for once in his life to do something for his family. He signed it over, plain and simple. It’s completely legit, had it notarized and everything, in case you were wondering, Mayor King.”

“Does this mean you and your brothers plan to stay in town?” Mama asks, “I’ve heard a lot about you only temporarily staying while you helped with the renovations.”

Nash nods, his southern manners not allowing him to be rude to my mama. “I can’t speak for them, mam, but that was my plan.”

“Was?”

I'm in awe of him and his remarkable self-control. This man is everything I want and I cannot wait to tell him, better yet, to show him exactly what standing up to my father does to me.

His smile reaches his eyes as his eyes remain locked on mine, despite my mama being the one to ask. “I’ll admit that was my original plan, but I have some unfinished business to attend to.” The intensity of his gaze makes my entire body come alive with an electrifying need to kiss him. To feel the spark set off throughme as our lips touch and his hands graze my skin the way he knows how, eliciting a raging wave of arousal.

I have to avert my gaze in order to conceal the blush rising on my neck, a blush clearly caused by his teasing look and taunting smile.

I chance a glance at my father and watch as his eyes flicker back and forth between Nash and I. A knowing look crosses his face and he smirks like he’s figured it all out. I know my father, and his inquisition, won’t end here, but I’m done listening to my family's blatant attempt to humiliate the Bishops. There may have been bad blood between our father’s but I will not let it affect my relationship with any of them.

Monroe is and will always be my best friend. Monty has been nothing but kind to me over the years and I’ll admit I’ve gotten to know him pretty well. As for Theo and Beau, who I don’t really know much about, they don’t deserve to be hated for merely existing.

Though, it’s Nash who is and will remain a part of my life. We’ve endured our own hardships and allowed miscommunications and the decisions of others to affect our relationship for too long. I won’t make the same mistake again. Not when I see his family as my own.

With a sweet smile, I stand from my seat. “Anyone ready for some dessert?”

Chapter Thirty-One

Bailey

“Thank you for having us, Mrs. King. It was an honor to join you and your family, and we’re grateful for the kindness you have shown us today.” Monty’s grace and sincerity is truly something to be admired. It’s no wonder, despite the reputation the Bishop name has held in this down over three decades, Monty remains one of the most beloved members of our community.

The work he does for the entire town of Crossroads and its residents, using his talent and profession to help those in need, is truly admirable. From helping around town wherever he’s needed, to free labor and support for the older folk down at the Crossroads Senior Living center, providing help for many small repair jobs they’re unable to afford to pay, his goodwill is unmatched.

Even now, as he thanks the gracious hosts who tried to humiliate him and his family, making a mockery of their grief, however small it may be, is something I look up to.

I look around the living room, watching as everyone takes their time to say their goodbyes, but notice Nash is nowhere to be found. The troubling thing, neither is my father.

Sneaking out of the room unseen, I walk down the long corridor to my right, in search of him, but just as I approach my father’s study, I hear two voices arguing inside. The door is open just a pinch, and with quiet steps I approach, leaning my ear against it.

“You think you're so slick having caught me off guard with this stunt you pulled, but all this does is prove you're just as crooked as he was. Forcing a man on his deathbed to sign over his property,” my father says, eliciting a deep growl from Nash.

He scoffs. “Unlike the straight and narrow path you would have taken, stealing it from right under his feet once his body still lay warm in a grave?”

“Keep your voice down, son. I’m not above causing a scene, but I won't be the one made a fool of. I saw the way you were looking at my daughter, and it seems to me you’ve forgotten what we’d agreed on?”

Nash lets out a strangled breath, his hands fisting at his sides, clearly holding himself back from really coming for my father and his blatant insults. “That’s what you agreed to, old man. I was a fucking idiot kid who didn’t know any better and allowed a self-proclaimed powerful man to dictate what I did.”

My father’s face is burning in anger. It’s been years since I’ve seen him this affected by anyone. “Yes, well, you don’t seem to be any smarter if you’ve returned. I’ll say it again as I did then. If you know what’s best for you and your family, you’ll leave town immediately and never return. Just as you promised, you wouldn’t. Or have you forgotten the deal we made? It’s been ten years, Nash. The money I paid you has accumulated a hell of a lot of interest if you find yourself in need of returning it.”

Nash closes the distance between them, reaching for my father but holding back before laying a hand on him. “If you think your senseless threats matter to me anymore, you're severely mistaken. As for Bailey, what I do or don’t do with your daughter is frankly none of your goddamn business. She’s a grown woman who can decide for herself what she needs.”

Stunned by what I’m hearing, I inhale a sharp breath when I almost lose my footing, causing the men to halt their conversation.

Fearing they’ll find me, I rush out to the back of the house, into the large den we typically use as a second living space and media center, and run straight into Jase’s chest. “Hey there, B. Slow down,” he urges, grabbing me by my shoulders to stop my fall. “Where are you running off to?”

The sound of a door opening calls his attention and we both turn, watching as Nash exits my father’s study, with the man following closely behind him. Nash says nothing as he heads our way, but my father remains by the door, calling Jase over to join him.

Jase follows orders, but not without a curious glance in my direction.

---