Accidental Knight: A Marriage Mistake Romance(47)

“I thought Jonah had me buy those candy canes for you,” he says. “Not Edison.”

“I’ve never liked candy canes much, but I didn’t want to hurt Grandpa’s feelings, so for awhile, I pretended I did. Every winter when I showed up for Christmas break, he’d have boxes of them for me. So I hid them out here, in the barn, just to make him think I was eating them down. Then one day, Edison here found my stash. He gobbled them up, wrappers and all. Problem solved.”

“He’s a weird horse. Wouldn’t take one bite from me last night. I left it in his trough.”

I pat Edison’s nose. “He ate it after you left. The trough’s empty.”

My phone pings with a text. Alexa, no doubt. She’d sent a text earlier asking if her boyfriend can move in for a couple of months while I’m away.

Considering they hadn’t been that serious, I’d sent a text asking if she wants me to say yes or no.

I pull the phone out of my back pocket and cringe.

Damn, it’s not Alexa at all.

I don’t really want to, but I click on the icon to open the message from Dad.

“Something wrong?” Drake asks, sensing the sudden quiet.

I turn my phone around for him to see the message stating my parents want me to meet them at the sheriff’s office. Immediately.

He reads it and looks at me.

I shake my head. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Look at me like it’s my decision.”

“Because it is,” he says, sinking down on one knee. “You’re in charge, Bella. You don’t feel like going, don’t bother.”

“In charge?” I shove the phone back in my pocket. “I don’t feel like I’m in charge of my own two shoes.”

“Then change it.”

I give Edison one last pat and walk toward the door. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get right on that.”

“I’m dead serious. Look at me, darlin’.”

He takes my arm, a hold so firm it commands attention.

I stop and look up at him. Over six feet of muscle and so handsome, it’s almost intimidating.

Great reminder.

Nope, I’m not in charge of anything. Not even my own body. It grows jittery and hot and too dang tight just looking at him. I stare so long it’s hard to peel my eyes off him.

“The only way people ever have any power over you is if you let them.” He nods at Edison. “Take him, for instance. I can’t make him obey worth shit. Jonah, only half the time. But you, Bella, tell him to go to the barn, and he goes. It’s because he lets you have power. Because he loves you, respects you, and he wants to make you happy so you’ll love him in return.”

Wow. Sage advice, and not the kind I ever expected from Drake Larkin.

Something fierce grips my spine. What he just said describes more than me and Edison, it fits me and my parents to a toxic T.

Except I’m the one in Edison’s shoes with them, aren’t I?

Letting them squat on me because I want them to love me. All I’ve ever wanted since I was a child. Deep down, I’ve always known that but never admitted it. Or had it pointed out so neatly without the usual Freudian crap.

I nod, swallowing the lump welling in my throat, then say, “Fine, my choice. Let’s go to the sheriff’s office.”

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“Yeah. We need to find out what happened.”

Drake’s hand comes out and rests gently on the small of my back, guiding me forward. By the time I’m pulling open his truck’s passenger door, I realize his hand isn’t even there anymore, but it’s the ghostly imprint that keeps me going.

It’s my own inertia, and knowing he has my back, that’s moving us forward.

Way to underscore a point.

While he drives, I use the time it takes us to get to town to make a plan. Which isn’t really much of a plan, other than vowing I’ll be standing my ground, whatever happens next.

A shield is only as good as the person holding it. That’s the thing about them.

My eyes shift over to Drake. Gramps willed me a pretty good shield, no question. It’s up to me to use it properly.

“How’s the leg today?” Drake asks, not long before we’re into town.

“Better. At least I’m not hobbling around like I’m eighty.” I pull down the sun visor and flip up the little flap that covers the mirror.

Now for the bad news: the bruise on my cheek is growing.

Mom will notice it for sure. I should’ve put some makeup on.

“You look fine,” he says. “Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to kick some ass.”

I flip the visor back up, smiling because it’s way too generous.

He turns the corner then, and I see a familiar BMW with rental plates in the small parking lot next to the sheriff’s office, which sits off to the side of the courthouse. It’s an old, brick building that’s been there since the first drop of oil was sprung way back in the thirties.

The town was named after Dallas, Texas, in hopes that the oil reserves would prove just as plentiful in the north as it had in the south.

It didn’t quite pan out that way for the first seventy years. But the founders of the town weren’t deterred.