One More Taste (4 page)

“Hey, shouldn't you be getting ready for your first day at the resort right now?”

“Just about done with this run, but I had to take a break to admire the view. You'd love it.”

As the early morning fog burned off, the details of the resort shone in the sun in stark detail. The resort's golf course began at the edge of the lake and extended out in rolling hills of manicured green grass. The resort itself looked like a wood and river rock Wild West castle. Beyond the main building on a hill to the north sat a chapel, looking the part of a lighthouse beckoning believers to its doors. On the west side of the golf course was the new, massive equestrian center that Ty Briscoe had reportedly agreed to finance as a gift to his son-in-law, the husband of his oldest daughter, Carina, in order to entice them to remain living at the resort. That was how important it was to Ty to keep the Briscoe family together.

Knox snorted through his nose at the thought. What a pile of crap. Ty Briscoe had spent thirty-five years shunning his only brother and his brother's family. And that equestrian center he'd so generously footed the bill for had been yet another nail in his company's financial coffin. Some family man he was.

“Eh,” Shayla said. “I prefer the city. Though I do wish I were in Dulcet with you so I could watch you stick it to Uncle Ty.” She infused the words
Uncle Ty
with venom that caught Knox off guard. Shayla was one of the most optimistic people he knew. She was born with the unique gift of being secure in her bones. The strife in their house hadn't affected her like it had Knox and Wade. She'd risen above it all. Or so Knox had thought.

“I wish you were here, too, Shay. And for the record, the only things that are going to happen to our dear Uncle Ty will all be of his own doing.” All Knox was planning to do was give the elaborate house of cards that Ty and Grandpa Tyson had built a gentle flick that had been a long time coming. “And the best part is, when I've done what I came here to do, everyone involved will walk away with richer bank accounts—even our dear Uncle Ty, even if his pride and reputation are ruined for good.”

Shayla made a grumbling sound of protest at allowing Ty any sort of profit, but Knox's attention was snagged by a splash and a silvery form disappearing into the rippling water. “Oh, shit, I think that was it. Either I just saw the fish that knocked me over, or there's a hell of a lot of freakishly large fish in this lake.”

“Guess you'd better learn how to use a rod and reel,” Shayla said.

“I plan to.” Just like he planned to eat every last bite of the rabid piranha that had attacked him for dinner.

“I still can't believe you own a lake,” Shayla said.

“I don't
own
it. It's county property.”

“But you're the only private residence bordering the lake, and Briscoe Ranch comprises the rest of the lakefront real estate, so close enough. Good luck today.”

“Thanks, sis.”

As the call ended, he gave the resort another long look. Today was his first day as the on-site second-in-command to Ty. It was a role he'd fulfilled enough times before with other companies he'd bought, so this was nothing new and only slightly challenging. Besides, his measly ten percent stake in the company—compared to his equity firm's forty-one percent and Ty's forty-nine percent—was only temporary. Patience was the name of the game right now.

The only wildcard in his day was whether his truck would allow him to drive all the way to the resort's employee parking lot without stalling out. More than likely, there was a perfectly good explanation—one that didn't involve ghosts—for why he had yet to successfully drive the Chevy onto Briscoe Ranch property. The employees' entrance, the main gate, day, night—it didn't matter what tricks Knox had tried, his truck stalled out every time, sometimes feet from the gate, other times, miles.

Knox gave his new empire one last look, then pushed off into a jog once more.

Two hours later, Knox stood in the employee courtyard behind the office suites and dabbed at his perspiring forehead with his pocket square. His walk from the employee entrance gate where his Chevy had died to his office had to be nearly a mile. A mile wasn't usually a distance that made him break a sweat, but the sunny morning combined with the exertion of lugging his box of office supplies and personal effects and his messenger bag had made for an unexpectedly arduous trek. At least he'd managed to roll the truck onto the shoulder of the road before embarking on the trek over the resort grounds.

Once he'd eliminated all traces of exertion, he put on his game face and opened the office door. The time was still early, so the office was mostly empty, but it didn't take long for the smattering of workers to notice him. Some stared, while others returned his nods of greeting. An empty secretary desk sat like an abandoned guard post in front of his office door. As was the case every time he took on a new project far from the equity firm's headquarters in Dallas, he chose a new secretary, hiring from within, someone to fill him in on the nuts and bolts—and the gossip—of the company. That would be task number one today, as soon as he'd set his office up to spec.

The office he'd been given shared a wall with Ty's, which meant it boasted the same expansive view of the resort grounds and golf course from wall-to-wall windows. His eyes were on those windows as he entered, which was why he started at the sight of Ty leaning back in Knox's chair, his boots resting on the desk top.

“You're late,” Ty said by way of a greeting.

It was only eight o'clock. Not exactly late, but not as early as Knox had hoped. “You're in my chair.”

With an amused crackle of laughter, Ty rose. “Catch!” A ring of keys jangled as they arced through the air.

Knox scrambled to catch the flying keys one-handed while balancing his office supply box in the other hand. “Keys to the resort?”

“You got it. We'll swing by HR on our tour today, and they'll get you fixed up with a universal keycard, but those will work for now.”

Tour?
Knox slid his box onto the nearest horizontal surface, a small table holding a coffee caddy and an unopened bottle of scotch. He pocketed the keys, then tipped the bottle back, reading the label. Expensive scotch. Nice.

He jumped at the slap of Ty's hand on Knox's shoulder. “From me to you. Welcome to the family.”

Ty's overeagerness to be buddy-buddy with him came across as borderline desperate. Disgusting, really. Welcoming Knox to the family as though the two of them being related was a new concept. It took some effort for Knox to stop himself from shoving the scotch into Ty's hands with a pointed,
I already have a family, and I don't need yours
.

“Thanks. We'll have to crack it open sometime soon,” he said instead.

Ty folded his arms over his chest, drill sergeant style. “You're gonna earn a stiff drink by the end of the day. I've got a lot to teach you.”

For the time being, Knox would play along, soaking up all the information about Ty, his weaknesses, and the resort that he could before Knox made his next move. He'd let Ty act the role of the wise mentor, with Knox as the eager student. “All right. Sounds good. When do you want to start?”

The slightly off-key music of a horn honking out the opening strains of
La Cucaracha
filtered in from the office hallway, drawing both men's attention. Ty rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath.

The next moment, the office door flung open wide and a hot pink motorized scooter pushed inside carrying an itty-bitty wrinkled ball of energy wrapped up in a shiny turquoise jogging suit. Knox recognized her immediately as his grandmother, June, though he'd only met her a few times, and never once when she was in as good of spirits as she appeared today.

Crowding around her scooter was the rest of Ty's branch of the Briscoe family—his daughters, Haylie and a very pregnant Carina, along with their husbands, Wendell Halcott and James Decker, respectively. So much for a low-key first morning.

Knox extended a hand in greeting. “Grandmother, I—”

He could say no more as she launched herself from the scooter and threw her arms around Knox. “You came! Blessed be.”

It only took a moment for Knox to warm up to the idea of hugging her back. It didn't hurt that he could tell how peeved Ty was that his mother and the rest of the family had arrived on the scene. The truth was, it was a relief to see his grandmother so full of life, since the last time Knox had seen her, a little over a year ago, it had been to visit her in the hospital after she'd been injured in a fire at the resort's chapel. And the time he'd seen her before that, it had only been a glimpse of her slipping into the back of the church during Knox's father's funeral. He recalled with perfect clarity how her body had been bent and trembling with grief. She'd stayed until Knox's mother had noticed her and had ordered her escorted from the building. It had been a request in his father's will that neither his parents nor anyone from Ty's branch of the Briscoes attend his funeral.

“Yes. I came,” Knox said.

Grandmother cradled his cheek in her hand. “You've got the Briscoe blood running thick in your veins, my boy. You're the spitting image of my Tyson. Bless his soul.” She produced a purple rhinestone encrusted smartphone from the pocket of her jogging suit. In no time flat, she had it mounted onto a long stick that Knox had originally mistaken for a cane. “We'd better snap a picture to mark the day.”

The flash went off before Knox had a chance to process her request. He blinked spots away from his vision.

“Granny June, you should let me take the picture for you,” Haylie said, tossing a full head of heavily highlighted, wavy, brownish-blonde hair. She wiggled her French-tipped fingernails in the universal sign for
hand it over
and let a pout form on her glossy lips. Knox recognized her brand of high-maintenance, spoiled princess look so common in Dallas's social circles, the kind of look that many of his firm's older investors preferred as their arm candy.

Grandmother swung the selfie stick in a wide arc, forcing Haylie and the rest of the family to duck so as to avoid getting smacked upside the head. “Oh, hush. You know I've got these selfies down. Try again, Knox, honey, and this time, put your chin up to keep them neck wrinkles away. And bend your knees more to help this poor old lady look tall. Now smile.”

Knox did as he was told, crouching down to put his cheek near hers and forcing a smile to his lips just as the flash went off. When he'd recovered his wits, he got on with the obligatory handshakes to his cousins' husbands and questions to Carina about her pregnancy.

“I didn't expect such a greeting this morning, but here you all are,” Knox said, scanning the crowd of people.

“The whole Briscoe clan except for Shayla and Wade,” Grandmother said.

Knox had to swallow back bitterness. He wasn't sure how much more he could take of their complete erasure of his dad and mom from their conversation and memory, much less the way they jubilantly ignored thirty years of shunning silence.

“Mom's not here, either,” Carina said.

Grandmother's wrinkled face drooped into a frown and her eyes turned hard. “Aw shucks, you're right,” she said with tepid regret.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably. Carina and Decker exchanged a look. Ty swallowed hard.

Interesting.
Carina had struck a nerve with that one. The hallowed Briscoe clan could pretend all they wanted that they were one big happy family, but their dysfunction was simmering right below the surface of every smile and warm embrace. But whatever the story was with Eloise and the rest of the family, Knox couldn't care less.

“Speaking of mothers, how's Linda?” his grandmother asked, perhaps realizing her error of omission.

“My mom's doing great. Busy at church, as always.”

Grandmother gave his arm a pat. “That's good to hear. We have room for her in the family compound, here on the resort grounds, if she'd enjoy being near you.”

It was a kind offer, and one he'd extend to Carina, Haylie, and their grandmother once the resort belonged to him. He would be the bigger person, if only to prove how small and spiteful they'd been in comparison.

“That's sweet of you, but there'd be no convincing her to change churches.” Guess the members of Ty's branch of the Briscoe clan weren't the only ones skilled at pretense because that lie rolled right off Knox's tongue. There was no way his mom would set foot on Briscoe Ranch Resort. She was still spitting mad at Knox for buying in as an owner. He'd never seen her get so worked up as when she'd tried to persuade him against going into business with Ty, even knowing the partnership would only be temporary and for the express purpose of reclaiming the legacy that should have been his dad's. He'd assumed she would support him, but clearly she didn't share Knox's and his dad's need for eye-for-an-eye retribution.

“We'll have to invite Wade and Shayla up soon. I'd love to reconnect with them,” Carina said.

Reconnect?
That implied they'd connected a first time. “Shayla runs my office in Dallas, but I'm sure she'll be around soon for you to meet. And Wade's a SEAL in the navy, operating out of Germany. We rarely know where in the world he is.”

Carina pulled her face at that news. “He's a soldier? I had no idea.”

“He enlisted when he was eighteen. It suits him.” While Shayla had a heart of gold, Wade had been born with a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas, and since he'd come of age, he'd perfected the art of staying gone.

His grandmother's attention drifted to the window. “I pray for you and your siblings every night, and I always say a special prayer for Wade, knowing he's in harm's way.”

“Thank you, Grandmother.”