Chapter 24
24
JOHNNY
A week after coming home with three new horses instead of two, Aurora still hasn’t asked about Frost.
Her lack of questioning solidified my assumption that she hadn’t noticed me loading her up. Too pissed off with me and Jill, she avoided looking back at us after stumbling upon our interaction in the stable.
I’m still a smug bastard about her jealousy. Her heavy admissions on that dirt road have replayed in my mind all week. There haven’t been any new ones since, and I’m itching to pull more out. I know they’re there, trapped deep in the well she keeps hidden inside of herself. Each smile and small tidbit about her life that she gifts me during lunch or glass of iced tea she hands me while I work on her porch every night has me sure of it.
My conversation with Wade that same night we got back comes tumbling into my mind for the millionth time since, attempting to plant seeds of doubt.
“Why the fuck is there a white horse in my stable?”
I come up behind him with my hands in my pockets. The stable is quiet, the horses tucked in and the other ranch hands done for the day.
“They were running a buy two, get one half off sale. ”
He spins to face me, a heavy scowl on his face. “The bill says otherwise.”
“I’ll take care of Frost, Wade. You’ve got my word.”
“I thought you were happy with Joker. You’ve had ’er for years.”
“I am. Frost isn’t for me.”
His brows dip, realization hitting him quickly. “What is it with you boys and your lavish gift buyin’? My wife’s gettin’ expectations.”
“Eliza’s been talking about a new fridge. One of those fancy ones with the ice makers built in,” I tell him.
“Stop tryin’ to change the subject. You bought Aurora a seven-thousand-dollar horse, boy. She’s not even plannin’ on stickin’ around. I recognize that look in her eye. She’s goin’ to take off sooner rather than later.”
“Not if I can help it.”
“The horse a bribe, then?”
I laugh, giving my head a shake. “Rory wouldn’t accept a bribe no matter how expensive it was. Nah, I’m planning on convincin’ her to stay the old-fashioned way. Frost was a spur-of-the-moment gift. You’d have bought her, too, if you saw what I did.”
Two lost souls finding each other in the dark.
Wade sets his hand on my shoulder in a sign of support. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.
“You want my advice?” he asks.
“What do you know about convincing women to give you a shot? You tricked Eliza into marrying you two months after meetin’ her. And she was from this life.”
“You’re right. I don’t know shit about convincin’ women to stay. But I do have some wisdom when it comes to tamin’ wild animals.”
“Aurora isn’t a wild animal. And she’d have your ass if she heard you talk about taming her,” I grunt, my tone harsher than I’d usually use with him.
His laugh is harsh from years of smoking. “Fair enough. She might not be wild, but she’s got that same sense about her. That she may not be one to be convinced of anything. She’s got her own path, and you best respect that. ”
“You’re supposed to be on my side.”
He squeezes my shoulder. “I am, boy. I fuckin’ am.”
Never in my entire time knowing Wade has he ever offered me advice. Let alone regarding a woman. If Brody was subjected to it growing up, it would make sense as to why he stayed single for so damn long after high school. I’ve never had a father to give me advice, so Wade’s conversation with me meant more than I think he knows.
He may be right about Aurora having her own path, but if he thinks for even a second that I’m not going to try and make sure I play a part in her journey down it, he’s lost his mind.
“You’re frowning, baby,” Mom says, sitting beside me on the couch. She strokes a soothing hand over my hair. “You’ve been quiet too.”
“I haven’t been quiet. Everyone else has just been loud.”
“That’s not a wrong observation,” she says, laughing lightly.
Her laugh was one of my favourite sounds growing up. It’s always been loud and clear and bright. I used to do the silliest shit as a kid just so I could make her laugh more.
As opposed to Mama’s more subtle playfulness, Mom’s a proud joker like me. We also look the most alike due to the fact it was her eggs they used during their IVF journey with me and Daisy.
Our hair is the same shade of midnight black, our eyes a cool blue, noses slim, and jaws strong. I also inherited her lightning-fast metabolism, which Mama loves to bring up after we tear through her meals and ask for seconds.
Daisy got more from the sperm than the egg. She fucking hates when I say it like that, but it’s the truth. Our moms chose a sperm donor, and the rest is history. It still doesn’t change the fact that while we share an eye colour and dark hair, she still looks our opposite. I think she likes being different, though. It makes her feel more like her own person instead of just my twin sister, and I like that too .
Dropping a hand to my bloated stomach, I try to change the subject by saying, “I missed Mama’s cooking these two weeks.”
Mom hums. “You’re welcome to it every day, you know? Or have you forgotten with how busy you’ve been recently?”
“Let me guess. Daisy?” I ask, knowing the answer already.
It’s a miracle I haven’t had anyone show up at my house yet, demanding to know more about Rory. There’s no doubt in my mind Daisy has been blabbing about her to everyone she sees, our family included.
Josette steps into the living room and flops onto the armchair in the corner. Her chair , she calls it. I should have sat there instead.
“Are we finally asking Johnny about his secret girlfriend?” she asks, picking at one of the tiny gems on her thumbnail.
“Hi, little brother, I missed you these past couple of weeks,” Mama teases, appearing in the doorway before moving behind the chair to flick Jos’s ear.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to lie?” Jos asks.
I blow her a kiss. “You missed me. Don’t even try to lie. You’re terrible at it.”
Mama tightens the elastic band in her long brown hair and comes to drop a kiss to my forehead. Her rounded glasses droop down her nose as she bends down before Mom’s reaching across me to push them back up. My heart swells at the simple act of affection.
I grew up seeing those all the time. Small touches as they passed one another, Mama spoiling Mom with her favourite flowers for no reason. They’ve had consistent date nights every Friday for as long as I can remember. It’s a tradition that I can see them still carrying on when they’re too old to go out.
They’re why I’m so open to finding my person. I’ve seen how good it can be. What a real family looks like.
“You’ve been gone for too long, Johnny,” Mama says, the scolding light but apparent. She sits on my other side and grabs my hand .
“I’ve been busy. Wade’s given me a shit ton more responsibility these last few months.”
“Aaaaaand?” Jos sings.
“And you’re a pain in my ass, Josie Cat.”
She shoots fire at me. “I hate that nickname.”
“I know.”
“We ran into Eliza at the store the other day. She said you’ve been working longer hours?” Mom asks.
“That must be why you smell like that,” Jos says, crinkling her nose.
I lift my arm and sniff. “I don’t stink.”
“If you have to smell your own armpit to make sure you don’t stink, you have a problem.”
“Why don’t you come closer and you can smell my armpit yourself?” I ask, waving my arm in the air until Mom pushes it down.
“Why can’t you just be sweet to one another like all the kids on TV?” she mutters.
“Because that’s not real life. And we can be sweet when we want to,” Jos says.
I lean my head back against the couch and shut my eyes. It’s alarming how easy it would be to simply go to sleep right now.
“You’d be nicer to me if Daisy were here.”
“That’s not true,” Jos says.
I open my eyes. “She knows too many of your secrets for you to be mean to me in front of her.”
“You’re trying to hint that you’re her favourite, and you’re not.”
“What secrets do you have, Josette?” Mama asks.
Jos flips me off. “Look what you’ve done, Johnny.”
“Me? You started it.”
“You both started it. You’re twenty-two and twenty-four. This bickering is tiring,” Mom says.
I rest my arm over her thin shoulders. “Your lives would be so boring if we didn’t stress you out from time to time. Jos still loves me.”
“Are you not going to say that you love me too?” Jos scoffs.
“’Course I love you, you pain.”
She rolls her eyes, smiling softly. “Not as big of a pain as you.”
“Was there a reason you finally stumbled over for a home-cooked meal tonight, my love?” Mom asks me.
“I missed you guys.”
“We missed you more. But you know I’m not going to let it go, so out with it. Tell me the whole truth.”
“Jen,” Mama sighs.
Uh-oh, she’s bringing out real names now. The big guns have arrived.
“What? You’re curious too, Rachel . Don’t play innocent now.”
“You’re right. But—” Mama stops herself and makes sure to tap my arm so I know she’s talking to me. “—you don’t have to share anything you don’t feel comfortable sharing.”
“Is this a new therapist technique you’ve learned?” Jos asks, looking like she’s trying to hold in a laugh.
“Not every bit of my motherly wisdom comes from my work, Josette.”
“Only most of it,” my sister replies.
“I’m going to stop baking brownies for you every time you come home,” Mama threatens.
Mom laughs at that. “As if.”
“I’ve been working on rebuilding a porch after work every day. That’s why I’ve been so busy. By the time I finish and get home, I’m ready to crash,” I admit, breaking up the playful feud happening right now. “I don’t have a girlfriend, Josette, but I want to.”
My sister grins arrogantly. “That’s what I thought.”
“You’re building her a porch? Oh, sweetheart,” Mom sighs, clutching her heart like I just told her the most extravagant news.
“Aurora, right?” Mama asks .
Daisy and her loose lips. “She prefers Rory, actually.”
Or darlin’. Personally, I think she prefers that over either version of her name. She’ll never admit that, though.
Mom starts firing off questions instantly. “How is it going? Does it look good?”
“The porch?”
“Sure.”
Josette snorts a laugh. “I think she meant with Rory, bro.”
“Oh. I think it’s going good? We have lunch together every day and meet up after work while I work on her porch. I got the new railing up yesterday.”
“Are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend?” Mom asks.
“That isn’t really a necessary thing anymore, Mom,” Josette tells her.
“What? That’s silly. How are you supposed to know if you’re dating someone, then?”
Mama jumps in to save her wife. “I think it’s more of a conversation that’s had rather than a simple question. Like, both people saying they don’t want to be with anyone else. Am I right?”
“You’re right,” Jos says.
Mom huffs. “Okay, in that case. Are you in a relationship with Rory? Have you had the talk ? And if so, why haven’t we met her?”
“No. She’s not ready for any of that yet.”
“What?” Mom squeals, sitting forward on the cushion and staring back at us. “She’s not ready? Why not?”
“She’s in town to find answers about her family. Her mind is there first and then on me and us. I’m trying to respect that. Taking things slow. But we’re getting there, I think.”
My chest flares hot at the images of just how slow we took things on the highway last week. The tight, slick feel of her pussy around my fingers keeps me up at night while I jerk off in bed. Christ, I could die just from kissing her. The taste of her tongue . . .
“Daisy mentioned she wasn’t from here. I’d have known who she was if she were from Cherry Peak. So, where is she from, and how long is she here for?” Mama asks.
I gulp, blinking back into this conversation before I get a fucking boner in my parents’ living room. “She’s from Calgary. And she’s here for a few more weeks at least.”
“A few weeks is not enough time,” Mom says, alarmed.
“I know,” I mutter, ignoring the urge to rub at my chest. “I’m completely obsessed with her. All I want is to keep her here with me. I feel it, you know? The knowing that you told us about as kids, Mama.”
Josette doesn’t have a sly remark to throw at me this time. I look at her and watch as she stares at me with the same pouted frown that she has right before she cries. And it isn’t even a beat later that Mom is throwing herself forward and wrapping me in her arms.
“Oh, my boy,” she whispers, sniffling in my ear.
Mama’s jasmine scent hits me before she joins the hug. Her words are spoken so softly I nearly miss them.
“Follow that feeling, Johnny. Grab it, and don’t let it go.”