Page 120 of Ride the Sky

A slender arm snakes over Ford’s shoulder. “Wise words from you, Country Boy.”

Ford grins like an idiot, yanking Reese against him. She giggles and throws her arms around his neck.

I avert my gaze, feeling that ache in my gut again.

The stove opens. The cabin fills with the delicious aroma of butter and herbs.

“Dinner,” Dakota says, clapping her hands together.

Thank Christ. Anything to get this night over with.

As everyone marches toward the long farmhouse table, I pray this isn’t a fucking disaster. Already, there’s a weird atmosphere. Some strange tension. Charlie’s cabin isn’t loud and chaotic, it feels off.

Looking like she’d be content incinerating anyone in her path, Fallon plants herself at the dinner table with a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.

I take a seat beside her. “Go easy on that.”

She arches a sharp brow and points a butter knife at me. “I think fucking not.”

I cover her hand with mine. Her rings of turquoise, her tattoos, her delicate but strong grip, her bloodred nails. “Come on,” I coax. “Normally I’m a fan of throwing alcohol on a problem, but not tonight, okay?”

Fallon’s face softens. Barely.

I don’t miss the looks from my brothers. We’re married, but we’re not technically a couple. Not yet, at least.

I keep her hand in mine, move it beneath the table.

We dish in steaks, salads, potatoes, wine and beer. No one mentions why we’re here. Family fucking togetherness. Fallon. Maybe we’re saving it for dessert.

“Reese, when do you go on tour again?” Dakota asks, keeping the conversation at a neutral speed.

Every awkward pause is a reminder of why we’re here. Who’s not speaking. Fallon.

“This winter.” Reese smiles at Ford. “It works out great with the ranch schedule and Ford’s camp.”

“First stop?” Davis asks.

“Germany,” Ford says.

“Be a well-traveled man, that’s for damn sure.” Davis chuckles as he feeds Duke a small hunk of steak. “Just gotta get through summer first.”

“Oh, yeah,” Fallon drawls. “The summer’s been fan-fucking-tastic.”

Dakota bites her lip. I tense.

Fuck.

A challenge in her hazel eyes, Fallon glances around the table. “Go on. I’m sure you’re dying to say it.”

Silence stretches for a few heartbeats.

After shooting down her whiskey, Fallon sits back in her seat and crosses her arms. “Pappy dropped me. Now you can be happy.”

“No one’s happy, Fallon.” Pretty face pale, Dakota passes Ruby the breadbasket. “I promise you that.”

“Yeah, cowgirl,” Ford says in sympathy, taking a sip of his beer. “No one wanted to see you go out like that.”

“It’s for the best,” Davis says, ever the hard-ass, and Dakota and I both groan aloud.

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