Chapter 9

Stone

Damn, my head hurts. Sitting at the table with a big country-style breakfast is just what I need. "Ma, you're staring."

She flashes a smile and stabs a forkful of eggs on her plate. "I know, but I'm just so damn happy you're home. I promise this will only last a day or two. A week tops."

Dad laughs, shaking his head as he enters the kitchen and kisses Ma's temple. It's cool as fuck how my parents still dig each other after all these years. As a kid, though, it made me sick. "She's lying, son. She'll be staring at you creepily for at least a month."

Ma looks at me and laughs. "Lies! Don't believe a word he says." Her smile is big and bright, soft with affection. "You hungover?"

"Nope. I'm a pro." I flash a smile and pile more bacon and toast on my plate. "I appreciate the big breakfast. Who's the new cook?"

"Her name is Patty, and she grew up on a ranch in Wyoming. Cooks breakfast here and uses the kitchen in the bunkhouse for lunch and dinner."

Dad eats quickly, as he always does, pushing away from the table with a grunt. This could be any moment in my life, all of us sitting around the table and giving each other shit. "Come with me, son."

Yep, any moment in time. I haven't been back long enough to be in the shit house, yet that's exactly how I feel hearing my dad's tone. "What's up?"

His brows dip into a frown, probably because I know better than to question him, but I do it anyway. "Come find out."

I turn the toast and bacon into an oversized sandwich, get up and follow my dad out the door, Ma taking up the rear. We hustle through the mudroom until we're outside, where the remnants of last night's party still sit. "Am I on clean up duty?" I joke.

"Maybe later," Ma answers before wrapping an arm around my waist. "We have a surprise for you."

"Oh. Okay." Not in trouble. Old habits die hard, and getting used to the new dynamic will take some time. "Where is it?"

Dad grunts, rolling his eyes. "Wait here."

"Any hints?" I whisper out of the side of my mouth to Ma.

"Nope. It's called a surprise for a reason." She grips my arm, giving it an excited shake.

"It must be a good surprise," I laugh. "Is it a woman?"

"With that face, you'll have more women than you can handle."

"Maybe, but first, I need to get back into the swing of things."

"Interesting," she murmurs just as Dad comes into view.

"A bike?" My smile spreads, and I jump off the steps, feeling my heart pounding. "Is that…?" I look back at Ma and then to Dad.

"Your old bike?" She nods. "Sure is, but what do you think?"

"It's fucking gorgeous." I can hear the awe in my voice, and I don't try to hide it. "What did you do?"

Dad grins as he wipes his hand along the seat. "Every fucking thing. Check it out."

I do just that, running a reverent hand over the black leather seat, the polished chrome handlebars, and the sparkling emerald paint on the gas tank and the saddlebags. It's gorgeous. It's amazing. "Seriously, this is so fucking cool." I look at my parents with a smile, excitement racing through my veins. "I don't know what to say."

"Thanks, works," Dad teases with a laugh.

"Thank you. Thank you so fucking much." I wrap my arms around both of my parents, my gaze steady on the bike, glistening in the sun. This bike was my childhood dream. It was the only thing I wanted as a kid, and I scrimped and saved, doing every odd job around the ranch just to save the money to buy it. Eventually, Dad would've gotten it for me, but I couldn't wait.

Leaving my bike behind hurt like a motherfucker, and I didn't even have one in Angel Harbor. Just the van and Ace's truck. But now she's here, and I'm here, and we're together again. "Incredible."

Ma's eyes light up with joy. "You like it?"

"Nah, Ma. I love it." I wrap her in a hug, lifting her off the ground while she's laughing and smacking my shoulders. "It's perfect."

It's beyond perfect, and the only thing I want now is to hop on her and stretch her legs.

"Go on," Dad thumps me on the back until I set Ma down on her feet. "Give her a good, long ride. Try to stay out of trouble while you're at it."

I flash a lopsided grin, accept the keys, and prepare to hit the road, all with a huge smile on my face.

Hell yeah, my old Harley is back and looking badass with all the new gear. A huge grin spreads across my face as I take the keys.

I swing my leg over this beast and my ass plants right into the classic leather seat. Feels perfect. I kickstart her and that familiar rumble between my legs is music to my ears.

The roads around Opey are just how I remember them. Maybe even better since they're smooth with no potholes to mess up my ride. These new tires grab the pavement tight as I lean into the curves and open her up on the interstate. It's like I never stopped riding these roads.

Hours pass before I finally turn the bike around and head back to Hardtail Ranch. As much as I want to put a dent in the whole Texas highway system, I have other shit to do today, starting with a bartender—the head bartender, according to Ma—at the Barn Door and five years of history to catch up on.

After going home and rinsing off the road, I head over to the Barn Door, strolling through the doors I wasn't legally allowed to enter the last time I was here.

I wear a crooked smile as if I already own the place, which I kind of do and brush off the thirsty, half-naked women looking at me like I'm a piece of meat they want to sink their teeth into and make my way to the long wooden bar just past the entrance.

Gray and I snuck into this place more times than I'd ever admit, so I know exactly where to find Ivy. Saint steps in front of me about twenty feet from my destination with a scowl. "Saint. Hey."

His scowl doesn't waver. "Don't distract Ivy."

I flash a wide smile with what I hope is a boatload of charm. "Wouldn't dream of it. I just want a cold drink and maybe check out a few things. Been gone a long time."

Saint barks out a laugh. "Bullshit. But good luck to ya, kid. You're gonna need it."

I don't need luck. Ivy and I have history. I just want to catch up with her. "Thanks," I mutter and make my way to the bar. She's smiling and chatting with a middle-aged couple while she stirs two different cocktails. They thank Ivy and leave a tip, giving me the perfect opening.

But she spots me first, smiling like I'm nothing other than a customer. "What'll it be?"

"Bourbon sour. Is that in your wheelhouse?"

"Child's play," she replies, pulling the cocktail ingredients. "You sure this is what you want? You used to be a beer guy."

"As you pointed out, we're both different people. My drink choice is different," I lie just to get a little more of her time.

Ivy's expression tells me she's trying to figure out if I'm full of shit or for real. I'm not sure what she decides, but she pulls out a bottle of bourbon. "If you say so."

"How are your folks?" I remember her parents as kind, hardworking folks who didn't judge me because of what my folks did to make a living.

She sighs, pouring the liquid into a glass. "They died in a car accident a couple of years after you left. Afterward, it was just Sage and me struggling to get by." Her words are so matter-of-fact that they kill me. So at odds with the woman I knew.

"Shit, Ivy. I'm so fucking sorry. Your folks were the best."

"They were," she offers with a small, sad smile. "I don't know how we would've survived without Peaches' help. And Ella Mae. They all chipped in to make sure Sage didn't go into foster care and that we didn't end up on the street."

Every syllable is like a karate kick straight to my chest. To imagine Ivy and Sage struggling like that while I was away, unable to do a fucking thing to help the girl who meant everything to me. "You're family. Of course, they all pitched in to help."

She takes a few drink orders, but her attention is still on me. After popping a few beers, she turns to me. "I struggled hard after you left. I didn't know what to do with myself without my friend. You know," she laughs. "I planned on leaving Opey, heading to Houston for a change of scenery. I didn't know how to be here without you, and then life got in the way, and I had no choice."

"Damn, Ivy. I had no idea." I take a sip of the cocktail and scowl. "God, that shit is horrible," I groan and shove the glass across the bar.

A small smile appears on her lips, and she takes the drink, dumping it and shoving a shot of tequila and a beer in my direction. "I know you didn't know about it and had to leave. But guilt and sadness are a son of a bitch."

"You don't have shit to feel guilty about, Ivy. I hope you know that. That dude made his choice, and I made mine. You aren't to blame for any of it." I can tell from her expression that she doesn't believe me. "I missed you like crazy, Ivy. But Dad made it clear that reaching out to anyone was a no-go. Said that I needed to disappear completely. To vanish like I never existed. I didn't want to. So many times, I pulled out my phone to dial your number, but then I thought about you and whatever trouble might come your way, and I'd curse myself. Eventually, it worked, and I stopped pulling out my phone, but I never stopped wanting to call you."

"I know," she insists, her smile still sad. "I know all of that, Stone. I understand, but it still hurt, and I still struggled."

"I'm sorry."

She shrugs it off as if it doesn't matter, but her blue eyes tell a different story. "It's fine. Peaches, Hazel, and Ella Mae were a tremendous help. Gray and I got closer through it all, and to be honest, I've been seeing him for about six months. He helped me and Sage out. A lot."

"I'm glad." The words feel like fucking sawdust on my tongue. I should have been here for her, dammit. "Is there any room in your life for me?"

"I honestly don't know."

I ignore how those words cause an uncomfortable pinch in my chest, and I nod. "I understand, but yeah, okay."

Her lips tug into a small smile. "I have Gray in my life now, and our friendship, as it used to be, could be viewed as problematic."

I know what she means, but I pretend that I don't. "Since when do you give a shit what people think?"

"I don't, but Gray is a good man, and I won't hurt him. Not for anything."

I nod. "I hear you, Ivy. Loud and clear."

"Good," she answers.

"Great," I shoot back.

"Perfect." Her smile gets bigger, and mine grows in response.

"I want my best friend back, that's all. We can all be friends again," I tell her honestly.

I see the uncertainty in Ivy"s eyes, but after a slight hesitation, she gives in like she always does—or did—when I push her. We've been best friends forever, and she finds it hard to say no to me.

"Yeah, all right, we can do it," she replies, trying to sound confident and sure of herself. But I know better. She has doubts.

Ivy is my bestie, my ride-or-die, and I'm not giving up on her. I'm determined to bring back the fun, adventurous, fearless Ivy I know is still in there somewhere.

No matter what it takes, I"m getting my best friend back.