Page 2 of Sweet and Wild

Their stunned faces turn toward me, and Stavros jerks away from my best friend as if he’s actually surprised to find me here. Brook’s face is beet red as she covers herself with one of my throw cushions.

“You have got to be kidding me!”

“Lemon,” Stavros says, pulling on his pants. “This isn’t how it looks.”

“Really? Because it looks like the two people I love the most are fucking one another on the couch I picked out.”

Brooklyn finds her voice, and I really wish she hadn’t. “Lem, it’s … I’m really sorry. You know Stavros and I have history.”

Being lifelong family friends and ex-lovers, they have history alright. I guess I’m just the only one who thought it was ancient.

“Oh, I know all about history, becauseweare it.”

“It was a mistake.” Brooklyn slips on her dress and heels. God only knows where her bra and panties got to. “I … thought I’d come keep Stav company because I know you’re always working so late, and then one thing led to another.”

“Well bless your heart, Brooklyn. You did this for me? Get the fuck out of my apartment.” I turn to Stavros with a sneer. “And you?”

“Baby—”

“Don’t you darebabyme. This engagement is off.”

“Lemon, don’t be like that.” Stav’s expression is contrite and one hundred percent bullshit. His lies stink worse than the cow pats my brothers used to push me into as a kid.

I head into our bedroom and start opening drawers. I can’t be in the same room as him, and I’m suddenly regretting that bottle of expensive champagne. Stavros comes from money—big oil money handed down through generations of the Anagnos family. These past three years, I’ve been living a dream—expensive cars, designer clothes, and fancy restaurants this Texas farm girl had no right to be setting foot in—but my whole world just came to a crashing halt because not only is my fiancé cheating on me with my best friend, but I’m now homeless too. I can’t afford a shoebox in New York, with everything I earn going back into the gallery. I start pulling out drawers and tossing clothing, shoes, and jewelry on the bed.

“Baby, let’s talk about this.”

“I ain’t got nothin’ to say to you.”

“You know when you’re mad, that cute southern accent comes out. It makes me so fucking hard.” He leans down and kisses me on the neck. I cringe, because Lord only knows where that mouth has been. I turn in his arms, look him dead in the eye, and knee him in the balls. Stavros bends double and falls to the plush Persian carpet, rolling into a fetal position as he gasps for breath. “Jesus.”

“If you ever touch me again, Iwillcastrate you. And I grew up on the finest ranch in all of Texas, so trust me when I say, I know exactly how.” A pang of longing bolts right to my heart when I think of home, when I think ofhim. And how my brothers would kill Stavros if they too had witnessed the horrors in that living room.

I grab the duffle bag containing my clothing and essentials. I don’t bother with my purses or heels, but I do head to the bathroom and grab my makeup and skincare, because wrinkles are real, y’all.

My phone rings as I leave the apartment. I glance at Wyatt’s face on my screen. My baby brother doesn’t call me all that often, but when he does, it’s important. I close my eyes and contemplate not answering. But I can’t do that—not if Wyatt needs me—so I take a deep breath and hit the button to take his call.

“Lemon?” My little brother’s voice breaks and I freeze.

“Wyatt? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Daddy, Lemon. Daddy’s dead.” My bag slips off my shoulder and I lean against my apartment door as the ringing starts in my ears. My throat turns bone-dry, my stomach twists in knots, and my heart feels like it’s just been ripped right from my chest.

CHAPTER TWO

Lemon

Thirty coffees, Johnny Cash’s greatest hits on repeat, and three shitty motel stays after I got off the phone to Wyatt, I follow that white line and pull into a diner lot to visit the restroom. I’m in Marshfield, Missouri, or Springfield, or somewhere else I’ve never cared to visit. I should have just caught a flight to Memphis, Texas, and had one of my brothers come pick me up, but no way was I leaving my car with Stavros. It’s the only possession aside from the gallery that’s in my name. The clothes, heels, and expensive Persian rugs, I could take or leave. I never needed any of that stuff to be happy, but my car is my baby, and I refuse to leave it behind. I may need it yet to live in when I go back to New York.

I splash my face with water in the restroom and grimace as the huge diamond on my finger twinkles in the overhead lights. Stavros’s words when he gave me this ring come floating back to me. “You’re special.” “Unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”No good, cheating liar. I wish I really had castrated him. There ain’t nothing special about Lemon Winchester. If there was, he wouldn’t have slept with my best friend.

I know running away with my tail between my legs is not how my mama and daddy raised me, but I won’t stay in a relationship with a cheater. I’m worth more than that.

I don’t know what the hell I’ll do when I come back to the city. Ambrose agreed to take care of the gallery for the next few weeks, but heading home to Red River Canyon wasn’t in my five-year plan. Yet, here I am, driving a Ferrari across the country to the ranch I grew up on.

I leave the diner restroom, grab a couple of snacks from the vending machine outside, and head back to my car. I blast Dolly from the speakers, because like my mama always said, there’s nothing a Dolly song, some elbow grease, and a little hair spray can’t fix.

The sun is melting into the horizon and the day’s dust is settling as I drive up the dirt road and through the gate at Winchester Wild Ranch. I park in front of the house and just sit in my car, unable to believe I didn’t fall asleep at the wheel. The engine ticks as it cools, the last rays of sunlight glance off the dash, and I let out a deep breath.

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