Chapter 6 LIBERATED PIE AND RUNAWAY BALLS #2
Didn’t expect her to sink it that smoothly.
Beck leans back in the booth, cradling the cold glass of beer. There’s a slight shift in his posture that’s a bit uncomfortable.
“Spit it out.” I hate conversations that drag on.
“I, uh... there’s a heifer at the ranch that’s about to drop any day now. I was hoping she’d give labor before the rodeo, but it’s not lookin’ that way.”
I froze mid-sip. “Don’t you dare.”
“I can’t go.”
Motherfucker. Son of a bitch. Butter my ass.
“You can’t just bail out now. You leave in two days.” My eyes are back across the room.
Now he’s being pretty gentle with her. Thought bikers didn’t do “gentle.”
“I’m gonna have to stay and keep an eye on her,” Beck is saying. “Can’t risk leaving if she goes into labor while I’m gone. But don’t worry, brother, I got you covered.”
I bet he does.
Look at the leather lizard leaning over the table. He doesn’t give a damn if anyone’s watching. Confidence or cockiness? I can’t tell. Jade shouldn’t trust him either.
“You don’t need to have me covered, because you’re going.” I take a slow sip, letting the liquid sit on my tongue.
If I were her, I’d be more nervous being close to someone like him.
“You know I can’t.”
This conversation is getting old fast.
I sigh and turn to face him. “We’ve got plenty of hands at the ranch. You know that. You can leave the guys to handle it. Hell, we’ve got a whole damn crew lined up.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Hart—”
“Don’t ‘Hart’ me.” I’m watching her out of the corner of my eye.
Jade’s definitely giving dent-skulled throttle-head a run for his money. A few more lessons, and she’ll run that table.
“You know how it is. She’s overdue, and I can’t risk it.” Beck is the most sensitive out of all my brothers. “If anything happens, I need to be here. She’s like family.”
I do know how it is.
Of course, I fucking know how it is.
I oversee the entire ranch from finance to the mud on the ground, but it still pisses me off.
Is that a genuine laugh from her, or is it just a polite response?
Doesn’t matter.
Wheeler clears his throat, and his eyes flicker to the side, tinged with guilt. “I, uh, gotta pass too.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Lena agreed to a last-minute book signing, and I’m helping her.”
“More like he’s gonna be her real-life cowboy model.” Dean lifts a hand for a fist pump.
Wheeler leaves him hanging, with a short shake of his head. Dean shrugs and goes back to his pie.
“I bet she’d sell more books if you stood shirtless by her side wearing low jeans and your white Stetson.” Dean waggles his eyebrows.
Wheeler ignores him. “I got Sammy to sit in for me.”
“Sammy? Are you kidding me? He won’t be able to sit at a booth. Sterling is riding, already up three, and we all know Sammy is attached to him like glue. Not to mention, the kids.”
Sammy moved back to Rocky Ridge Creek and basically adopted his new wife’s nieces and nephew as his own. When he’s not with them, he’s with Sterling and vice versa.
“He’ll be taking the oldest to watch Daisy Fox barrel ride,” I grumble. “And making sure he doesn’t lose the youngest. That kid disappears into any nook to read. And don’t even get me started on the little pyro.”
Wheeler gives me his stern dad stare. “Stop calling her a pyro.”
“Get her to stop burnin’ shit down.”
Wheeler takes a breath and runs his hand over the back of his neck. “I get it, you’re not a parent. But don’t go saying things you don’t understand. I’ll find a replacement.”
“You’ll get on that fucking bus.” I let out a frustrated breath, my boot tapping against the floor with irritation.
I know they won’t get on the fucking bus.
“Who are you putting in your place?” I snarl at Beck.
He glances at his glass, avoiding my eyes. “Bronx agreed.”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“And I’m sure Wyatt could do it,” Levi adds.
“This isn’t a damn frat party.”
“If it were, then Sterling would have shown up,” Dean chuckles.
“This is a work trip, and Bronx pranks more than he breathes,” I remind them.
Bronx and his brother’s pranks might’ve been funny back in the day, but the idiots didn’t grow out of their “gotcha” masterpieces.
I’d never admit to them, but some of those pranks had been wicked. Like the time they Saran-wrapped the principal’s car.
Or the time they let three goats out and painted them 1, 2, and 4. The faculty spent days searching for the third goat that had never been released.
“He’s harmless,” Dean says.
“All that talk about family, pride, and legacy,” I mutter. “And you two are all too busy for a business rodeo?”
“You could come,” Levi suggests.
“I’m building the fucking treehouse for your kid this week.”
“I’ll help you tomorrow, and then that’ll clear up your week.” Levi hitches a thumb at me. “He is a master treehouse builder.”
It isn’t the first one I’ve built.
“I’ll pitch in too,” Beck says. “I’ll be close enough to the ranch to keep an eye on the heifer.”
The rest of my brothers chime in to assist with the treehouse, like that’s going to make up for ditching the event that’s been a year in planning.
Levi claps his hands. “It’s settled. We’ll help you, and you go to the rodeo.”
I point at Levi. “I’m not going to the rodeo, and y’all can still help me with the treehouse tomorrow.” My finger slides to Wheeler. “You can fuck off.” I point at Beck. “You can fuck off, too.” I drain half the beer in one go.
I need a second.
Maybe a third.
And a fistfight.
I storm off, my brother’s shouts trying to beckon me back. I’ve had enough brotherly “non-birthday” time.