10. Reed

10

Reed

B randy had been in the passenger seat of my truck for all of an hour, the ice in her massive water bottle clinking around with each bump, and I was sure the cab would explode at any time now. I’d been outside her house right at six a.m., and to my utter surprise, she was waiting in the driveway for me all dressed and ready to go. I didn’t get a good morning, but I also didn’t have to go inside, drag her out of bed, and fight over which vehicle we were taking, so I called it a win.

If there was one thing Brandy was good at, it was holding a grudge, so I was surprised she’d somewhat set our feud aside for Lettie’s wedding errand. Even I wouldn’t let her ruin my little sister’s wedding. Not that she would—they were best friends—but Brandy would do anything to piss me off. I guessed that was another thing she was good at: getting under my skin. But for our little road trip to Salt Lake City, she could let our past go.

Hopefully.

In my peripheral, Brandy reached over to the knob on the stereo, turning up the song that just came on shuffle. “Austin” by Dasha blasted through the speakers, the seats vibrating with the bass.

Okay, maybe Brandy couldn’t put our shit under the rug for a day.

I used the button on my steering wheel to turn it down a few, and naturally, Brandy turned it right back up. Immediately, my finger punched the minus button on the wheel, but she kept those fingers on the knob, twisting and twisting.

I shook my head, letting out an exaggerated sigh, even though Brandy couldn’t hear it over the female voice blasting through the damn speakers. Without thinking, I cranked the wheel, turning off the next exit to park at a gas station.

Leaving the music blasting for her enjoyment, I opened my door.

“The tank is full,” she called over the guitar.

“Well fucking aware, Brandy. I need a goddamn minute out of this truck.” I slammed the door a little too hard, but fuck, I didn’t give a shit.

I shoved the door to the gas station open, the little bell aggressively clinking with the force. I didn’t even want anything, but sitting next to Brandy for even just a meager hour made me restless. Not only with the way she purposely tried to irritate me, between smacking her gum and kicking her feet up on the dash, but with her presence alone. She hated me. Loathed me like I was the bane of her existence, all because of some fucking night seven years ago, and there was no way in hell she’d ever let it go.

I was staring at the chip aisle when the bell dinged again, and over the top of the rack, Brandy’s brunette head appeared. Her hair was wavier today, which meant she’d taken a shower before I’d picked her up and let it air dry. I knew that because of all those days she and Lettie spent at the pond growing up. She’d come back to the ranch in a bikini and half-dry hair, always letting it air dry throughout the rest of the day.

She was wearing jean shorts and an oversized t-shirt that hung off her shoulder just enough to show the neon pink strap of her bra. She did that shit on purpose, making sure to pull it just enough to where it’d peek through. She was a goddamn tease, and it pissed me off because she didn’t understand the kind of trouble it could get her in. Not with other men, but with me. She should be thankful she never let me near her.

She was well aware I was standing in the aisle as she slid past me, her shoulder brushing my back. I watched her walk up to the fridge and pull out a water, and as she headed to the front to pay, my eyes caught on an older man staring directly at her ass. Instantly, my jaw clenched, my teeth grinding, and I wanted to stab his eyes out with a fork.

I made sure Brandy had her back to me as she waited second in line at the register and then strode over to the guy. I pretended like I was looking at the hats, and though I was right the fuck next to him, his eyes never strayed from her.

If I could get away with murder, he’d already be six feet under the concrete subfloor.

“Nice day today, isn’t it?” I asked him, trying my best to sound casual, despite the utter rage that flowed through every inch of me. No one got to eye fuck Brandy Rose on my watch. I didn’t give a fuck how revealing her clothes were. She was a stranger to this asshole, and I was sure his thoughts were anything but innocent.

“Yep,” he replied as he practically drooled.

“Some great views ‘round this part of Idaho,” I said, baiting him.

“Amazing ones,” he replied.

Brandy paid, and I waited until that little bell dinged before I shoved his shoulder, grabbed the front of his shirt, and slammed him back against the wall.

“You ever look at another woman like that without her permission, you’ll wish you were blind,” I seethed, my voice quiet but holding all the threat it needed.

He’d eye fucked my Brandy Rose in a fucking gas station. He was lucky I didn’t take his eyes out now.

“I was just looking,” the guy whined, panic lacing his tone. He was a heavier man, his chin wobbling with his tremor. “I didn’t mean no harm.”

I shoved him into the wall again before letting go and stepping back. “‘Round here, perverts don’t get the benefit of the doubt. They get dealt with.”

It took all the self-control I could muster to walk away from him. My fist wanted to land straight into his cheek, but I wouldn’t do that. Fighting ruined something for me long ago, and I wouldn’t repeat it. This guy wasn’t worth it.

On my way out, I gave a small salute to the cashier, who gladly returned it. People stuck together around here, backed each other up if they needed it, which was what I thought I was doing for Brandy all those years ago, but I guess I was wrong.

After exiting the gas station, I hopped back into the truck to find Brandy sitting in the passenger seat on her phone. The music was off, so I connected my phone to the bluetooth and queued a random playlist. Old country filled the speakers, though the sound was turned down to an acceptable volume now.

“Took you that long in there and you didn’t even buy anything?” Brandy asked, not bothering to look up from her phone.

“Why’d you get a water if you tote that giant ass cup around?”

She set her phone on the center console, then unscrewed the lid on her tumbler. “It doesn’t fill itself.” She balanced it between her thighs as she uncapped the plastic bottle, pouring it into the other one.

I stared ahead through the windshield as the bottle emptied. “Why don’t you just drink it out of the plastic ones, then?”

“Because I like this cup,” she explained.

I ran a hand over my chin, losing my patience to even try to understand her, then kicked the truck into reverse once the top was back on her metal cup.

This was going to be the longest trip of my life.