Prologue

Wednesday, July 17, 2024
Crystal River, Maryland

“Remember last year? Candice had me doing that juice detox thing, but the juice shots were so gross that I had to follow them up with Diet Mountain Dew just to get them down, so –”

“Who’d have guessed you’d ever have trouble swallowing? Not me.”

Pamela McCarron’s head snapped around, blonde hair fanning out like a golden halo. Her brown eyes widened as she glared at her husband from the passenger seat, mouth agape. “Oh my God, you did not just say that!” After peering over her shoulder, verifying that their toddler son, Kaden, was still dozing in his car seat, a snort of laughter escaped despite Pamela’s best efforts to maintain a scandalized expression. “God, Colt. You are a such a pig.” She brought a trio of fingertips to her temple and wagged her head back and forth, again chuckling at the vulgarity. “Typical man. Is that all you think about?”

“Pretty much.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “But hey, admit it. You enjoy it when I tease you. Remember when you poured hot tea on your tofu scramble that one morning a month ago, instead of soy sauce, and then ate it anyway because you were too embarrassed to ask your mom to fix you a new one?”

Her eyes narrowed. “No. I don’t remember that at all.”

“Don’t lie! I made you hot tea mixed with soy sauce every morning for a week.”

Pamela exhaled, momentarily sending wisps of golden hair dancing across her forehead. “Okay, fine.” Her nose wrinkled as she allowed the memory to resurface. “That stuff tasted awful. Vile, really. Wasn’t a good mix.”

“I’m sure it did. But each morning, you looked forward to it because it made you laugh inside. Secretly. Just like you’re doing right now because of my joke about you swallowing. Look! Your face is doing that ... thing. You know, the I’m not amused but I’m actually dying inside thing. The twitch. Go on, let it out. You’ll feel better. It’s just us chickens here.”

Unable to harness it any further, Pamela caved in completely, transitioning to the smile she could no longer hold back. Still, she studied Colt for several seconds afterward with slanted eyebrows. “Sometimes I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” the fifty-year-old fired back with a chuckle, shifting the Lexus into park. Colt leaned across the divide, stealing a kiss. “You’ll always love me. No matter what.”

What better way for mother and father to spend their day with Kaden than with a trip to Rawhide Ranch? Crystal River, Maryland was home to this comfortable, cozy horse farm and overnight lodging, so Colt, Pamela, and Kaden made the sixty-mile trek from their hometown of Cedarville and were all but guaranteed a good time.

Tomorrow, they’d travel back to Las Vegas for the first time since July 2022, and ultimately to their old stomping grounds of Flagstone, Nevada. While Kaden stayed with Grandma, Colt and Pamela would reconnect with old friends and contemplate their future. A pivotal decision loomed: maintain their peaceful existence in Maryland, or uproot everything for a potential return to Nevada? Of course, the latter hinged on Lindsay’s offer – would she welcome them back to the brothel’s fold?