3. Piper
CHAPTER 3
Piper
I pull up to the guys’ house right as the last bits of sunlight are fading over the horizon. I’m a little later than I meant to be. Susana, the egg-bound chicken, ended up putting up more of a fight than I thought she would when it came to getting her to sit in the Epsom bath. After some research (and a lot of cutting), I managed to make a plastic tub into a little spa for her. She would be contained, with just space to poke her head out, while I soaked her lower half in the salt.
I will say. I take pictures and make posts that show a lifestyle around chickens that is not exactly true. The way I show it to my followers, having chickens is fun. Cute. Charming, even.
In reality, half the time it’s me fighting with a chicken for something that will literally save their lives. And the other half? Shoveling poop.
I’m used to it, but that doesn’t mean it’s pleasant. Blaire and I had chickens in Colorado growing up, and they were much meaner than the pretty Dominique breed that I raise on my little farm.
As I shut the truck off, my phone buzzes. Speak of the devil.
“Hey, B,” I say, picking the phone up.
“There’s no way you got that chicken into that contraption,” my sister starts.
I laugh. “Are you stalking me again?”
“You know I have post alerts turned on for you, Piper,” Blaire says lovingly.
My sister is a hard-ass. She’s the best reporter I know, and the toughest person to boot. She also raised me, in a way that’s just as meaningful as our grandparents caring for us.
It’s been a challenge, as adults, to get her to see that I don’t need her to look out for me anymore. But, since we had a discussion around some boundaries that I needed to be in place in order to feel a little better about our relationship, we’ve been a lot happier.
Monitoring my social media is totally a Blaire move, and I don’t love it, but it’s better than her constantly bending over backward to make sure I’m okay. It’s also not personal. She probably also has media alerts for like… news and stuff, too. I think.
“Well, to answer your question, yes. I did, in fact, get Susana into the plastic tub with the hole cut out of the top to force her to sit in the bath.”
Blaire whistles. “How? Sorcery?”
“I talked to her nicely,” I say primly. It’s not true. I had to wrestle her and then practically wrap myself around her to keep her from escaping, but I’m not going to admit that to Blaire.
“Well. That’s impressive, Miss Power of Positive Thinking,” she chides. “What are you up to now?”
The question is laced with a little longing. I know I need to invite Blaire to come up to the farm. It’s been a while since she’s been here, and she’s way overdue for a visit.
I’m just… not ready. Yet.
Inviting Blaire over is going to just remind me that I’m still single. I love her. I do. But she’s not exactly an easygoing person. She’s going to ask about my love life, because she knows one of my goals is to have kids soon, and then I have to deal with all the emotions that come with that.
Blaire has a gift for making me feel like I’m five again. Like, I can hide my feelings about my lack of children from myself, but if she’s here, and she asks, I can’t hide that from her. And if I can’t hide it from her, I think that everything might fall apart. Including myself.
So no, I haven’t had Blaire over in a while. I can’t. Not while my timeline is slowly ticking away into the future.
“I’m going to dinner at the guys’ house,” I say softly.
Blaire laughs. “After all this time, you don’t have to sneak over there, Piper.”
“I’m not sneaking,” I retort.
“Well, then, why did you say it all quiet?”
“I just said it in my normal voice.” I did say it quietly.
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Piper.”
“Blaire.”
She sighs. “Okay. Well. I won’t keep you, but it’s okay if you just want to hang out with your friends. Unless you want to tell me something about that whole situation?”
I feel my face flush. “There’s nothing to say,” I say quickly. Too quickly.
Blaire leaps on it like a mountain lion stalking a baby deer.
“Piper and the guys, sittin’ in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” she teases.
“Stop it. It’s not like that with them,” I mutter.
“Oh, is this your whole ‘swearing off men’ thing again?” Blaire says, the teasing lilt in her voice still there. Ugh. I can practically hear the air quotes.
“No. Yes. I have still sworn off men, and dating, but that isn’t even related to how I feel about them. We’re just friends,” I say fiercely.
“Friends,” Blaire echoes. “Friends who stare at each other with visible lust, and project so much sexual tension that it’s physically uncomfortable for everyone else?”
“We don’t do that,” I snark back.
“You definitely do.”
I huff a sigh. “No, Blaire. We don’t. And I’m still on my man diet, so it wouldn’t matter, anyway.”
“That is such a weird thing to say,” she laughs.
I wave a hand, even though she can’t see me. “You know what I mean.”
“Piper,” she chides softly. “How are you going to do the whole family thing if you don’t have a way to start a family?”
“I don’t need a man for that,” I say defensively. I don’t. There are a million options open to me. But they’re all… far. I live in the middle of nowhere, and the nearest sperm bank is in Helena, which is at least a four-hour drive.
Not to mention the fact that having a baby on my own was never part of the plan. I want a family. Which I guess does start with a baby, but ideally, I wanted it to include a partner, too.
“I know you don’t, Piper. But there’s no reason you need to just… shut them down.”
“I’m not shutting anyone down,” I retort. “They’re not interested in me like that.”
“They? Or one of them?” Blaire challenges.
“Both,” I respond. Although, I can’t imagine being with just one of the guys. They’re kind of a package deal, in all things.
Blaire pauses. “It’s really okay if you were interested in more. With just one of them. Or all of them,” she adds thoughtfully.
I know that she’s thinking of her own love life, and I nod. “I know, Blaire.”
“Okay, well. Tell them hi for me and enjoy Tate’s amazing food.”
“I will. Love you, B.”
“Love you, Piper.”
Hanging up the phone, I stare at it for a second. Blaire is in love with three men, and the parallels in our situation just feel… big. Except I’m not in love with Brent, Tate, and Dalton.
They’re just my friends. Good friends. Neighbors. That’s how it’s been for a long time. And I have no interest in changing it.
Brent’s lanky frame from earlier ripples into my mind, and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the image to go away.
I’ve sworn off men. I’ve sworn off men. I’ve sworn off…
My phone beeps again, and I frown. It’s my doctor’s office.
Suddenly, my stomach plummets.
I don’t answer. I don’t think I can. I signed the stupid release form when I was there to have a nurse give me the results of my tests over the phone, but I can’t remember if that means she’ll leave a voicemail or…
The voicemail icon lights up.
Oh, no.
I stare at it. I could click on it. I could find out. Or I could leave it there.
My fingers shake and punch the button.
“—is your nurse, Hadley. Just wanted to say we’ve got your results in. Good news, you’re looking good right now. However, the doctor wants you to come back and talk about some of the long-term concerns. It looks like the recommended tests are for egg quality. Again, this is all good today, but we want to make sure ? —”
I click it off.
My heart is pounding. My chest feels like it’s going to crack wide open.
I did the fertility testing on a whim. I’m twenty-six. It’s hardly old. There are many women who have children well into their 40s. However, given my recent vow of celibacy and lack of dating, I just wanted to check. Just in case.
But… egg quality? I’m terrified of what that means.
A knock on my window makes me jump. I hide the phone and look out.
“Hey there, darlin’,” Dalton’s deep voice echoes from outside my truck. “You gonna come in or what?”
I look into his big brown eyes, and my heart eases a little.
The nurse said nothing is wrong today. Maybe nothing is really wrong after all. Maybe I’m just upset for no reason.
I take a deep breath and smile. “Hi, Dalton.”
He winks at me through the glass.
Dalton is still tall, but less tall than Brent. He’s muscled more subtly, but I know exactly how strong he is from watching him work with his horses. His brown hair, messy as always, falls into his eyes, and his lips quirk, dimples showing in the corners.
Dalton doesn’t smile often. But mostly he does… for me.
I smile back. “Just got off the phone with Blaire. She says hi.”
“I say hi back, and not just because she scares the shit out of me,” he jokes.
I roll my eyes as Dalton pulls open the driver’s side door. I hop down, taking the hand he offers to help me get out of the truck. The calluses on his palm are rough. And I can’t help but picture how they’d feel on my skin.
“Piper?” he asks. He looks at my hand, a little confusion fogging his gaze.
Oh. We’re still holding hands. Whoops. Clearly I got so stuck thinking about the darn calluses that I forgot to be a normal human.
I quickly pull my hand from his. “Sorry. Thinking about something Blaire said,” I lie.
Dalton nods his head, his normal somber expression settling in.
“Let’s get you inside,” he says. One of his big hands presses on the small of my back, and I shiver again at the heat there.
If Dalton has a reaction to that, he mercifully keeps his opinion to himself. I let him shepherd me up to the house, the whole time vividly aware of his hand on my back.
Yeah. I need to do something about this.
Egg quality echoes in my mind, but I shut the thought down. What the heck is wrong with me? I’m a wreck.
Swearing off men is well and good. It’s not like I’m some kind of sex fiend. I just can’t help but feel like time is slipping by me as I do my whole man-reset thing. The nurse’s message rings in my mind, but I shake my head to get rid of it.
Choosing this isn’t bad. It’s a good thing, in the end, and it will lead to the right future, the one that I want. The one I can’t have with my friends, because I don’t want to ruin our friendship.
A vision of raising kids with the guys flashes into my mind. A vision that’s heavily influenced by a thought of how it would go to create said kids with one of them. Or all of them. Whew.
I mean, maybe I’m ovulating or something. I don’t do birth control because it makes me feel crazy, but this might be worse. I never used to be a sex-crazed lunatic like this. But I think I need to spend some quality time with my battery-operated boyfriend, because for the second time today, one of my friends is making my mind go to very, very dirty places.
Places that I’m not going to go with them. Ever.
Because with my luck, I’ll lose all three of them if I do. And that outcome is way, way worse than being a little horny.
“Good lord, Tate. It smells incredible in here,” I call out as I step over the doorway.
“Piper! Give me a second!” he calls from the kitchen.
Dalton helps me with the light jacket I put on to combat the early summer post-sunset chill, and I don’t bother to wait. I head into the kitchen, ready to see what Tate is putting together. I stop at the threshold and just close my eyes.
“My god. Can chicken even smell that good?”
“They don’t call it marry-me chicken for nothing,” Tate says with a laugh in his voice.
I crack an eye open. “What are you trying to say?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s the chicken, not me.” He smirks.
Out of all three of them, Tate is the most openly flirtatious. Sometimes I overthink what his actions mean, because they’re… kind of a lot. But it is also his personality. Tate’s never met a stranger, so I try not to take it personally.
Like, he’s not flirting with me. He’s just flirting because he’s awake and breathing and that’s what he does as part of the whole process of being alive.
“Well, it smells amazing.” I smile at him.
Tate winks. “Thanks, babe. How was your day?”
I launch into the whole saga of the chicken, which I have to say I draw out a little longer than is necessary. By the time I’m done, Tate’s got a glass of wine in my hand, and we’re setting the table for dinner.
He laughs when I show him the picture of Susana’s head sticking out of the plastic tub. “I love it, Pipes. It’s like a micro-sauna for chickens.”
“We’re building saunas for chickens now?” Brent says.
I turn, and my breath catches. He must have just gotten out of the shower. Brent dirty from farmwork is one thing. Clean Brent, with his black hair curling slightly at the edges, little splatters of water on his tight t-shirt, and smelling like soap is lethal.
“We don’t need saunas for chickens.” Brent casts Tate a glare. “You just got done building a hog roasting pit.”
That catches my attention. I lean back in my chair, swirling my wine.
“Okay, that’s cool. Why did you do that?” I ask Tate.
Tate, Dalton, and Brent exchange a glance. Almost as a unit, they sit down.
Uh oh.
I look between the three men. “Um. Okay. Why do I feel like this is an intervention?”
“It’s not,” Tate says quickly. He runs his fingers through his blond hair, then looks over at me. “It’s definitely not.”
“Okay… Then what on earth is going on?” I demand. I’m starting to get nervous.
Both Dalton and Tate look at Brent. He sighs and leans forward. “We want to ask for your help with something.”
Um. Considering that it seems like it’s kind of a big deal, a million scenarios run through my mind. And why on earth is one of them that they’re going to ask me to have a baby with them?
I shiver. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I get that out of my mind? The nurse didn’t even say anything bad…
“Piper?”
Blinking, I look at Brent. “Sorry. Yes?”
“We want to know if you’d help us grow our business.”
Huh? “The farm?”
Tate huffs out a sigh. “It’s a little more than that.”
“Okay. I’m confused.” I look at the three of them.
“I know,” Brent says. “We… well, we haven’t been keeping this from you or anything, but it’s not exactly really public. We’ve been raising cattle, but we’ve decided to take the farm in a new direction to get a little more business.”
“Oh? Well, that’s an interesting idea.” I still have no idea where this conversation is going, but if they just want help with marketing, then I’m happy to do that. And it doesn’t really feel like it elicits a sit-down conversation.
The guys are pretty quiet, almost nervous, so I raise an eyebrow.
“Do you want to tell me more about this business?”
Brent looks slightly relieved. “Yeah. Sure. Tate is going to start a catering company…”
“It’s going to be awesome,” Tate pops in. I can tell that he’s been holding back from telling me about this, but the enthusiasm is practically shining through him now. “I’ve already got plans for roasting whole hogs and shipping them nationwide.”
“Hog pit,” Dalton says with his eyebrows raised.
Tate gives him a look. “Did you think I was just fucking around?”
“Yeah,” Dalton deadpans.
I hold up a hand, interrupting them. “You can bicker later. Tate, that sounds like an amazing idea and totally a good use of your skills,” I say. He grins, and I look at Dalton. “And you’re helping with this?”
He shakes his head. “No. Raising horses.”
“Don’t you already raise horses?”
He looks a little lost at my question, and the grooves between his eyebrows deepen.
Brent jumps in. “He’s raising high-quality bloodline horses for reining and cattle work, and for trainers to use for all kinds of purposes.”
I raise an eyebrow. Dalton takes a deep breath.
“Hollywood needs horses when they do stuff. Certain horses and bloodlines are easy to train. Reining horses have the same skillset. I figure if I can get a couple of decent rounds of foals out, then people will know that we’re looking to expand. We can go to the stock shows, then maybe try and get some interest from some of the new-to-Montana crowd.”
New to…
It clicks.
“You’re trying to sell horses to rich people. And you,” I point at Tate, “want to cater for them.”
They both nod.
I glance at Brent. “And are you supporting this?”
“Cattle still,” he says, shaking his head. “But I’m putting in the work to have high-quality meat that we can sell to?—”
“Rich people,” I breathe.
All three men nod vigorously.
My mind whirls, and I look at Brent. “Why did this necessitate a sit-down meeting and dinner? You could have just asked me this morning at the farmers market.”
He shifts uncomfortably. “Well. Piper. I just…”
“We don’t want to impose,” Dalton says softly.
I glance back at him. “It’s not imposing.”
I’m still confused. These guys are closer to me than anyone in the world, save my sister. Why didn’t they feel like they could just… ask?
“And, given the fact that you hated working for people in San Francisco, we didn’t want to remind you of that,” Tate adds.
Ah. Okay, that kind of makes sense. I lean back in the chair, drinking the rest of my wine. I haven’t responded yet, and I can tell that all of them are waiting on me.
I weigh my emotions. I’m kind of disappointed. Honestly. I have no idea why I was thinking that they’d ask me for something like let’s have a baby together. It makes no sense.
Until Brent twists the napkin in his hands, and I watch the muscles in his forearms play underneath his skin. And Dalton makes a low noise in his throat that heats my blood. And Tate gives me that sparkling look that just screams mischief.
I grab the bottle of wine and pour myself another glass. I take another deep sip, which I know I shouldn’t. I’m a cheap date when it comes to alcohol. Only a little bit will send me right over the edge.
“I’m hurt that you didn’t think you could ask me. I ask you guys for help all the time, and it feels weird that you didn’t want to return the favor,” I say slowly.
Brent flushes red. “Shit. I mean. We didn’t mean to make you feel weird, Piper, but since we’re friends, and you hated working for someone in your old job, we didn’t want to?—”
“Impose,” I finish the sentence for him.
Brent leans forward, and his biceps flex. And that must be the only reason that the next thought pops into my head.
“I’d be happy to help. On one condition.”
The guys all look at me with curiosity. I gulp down more wine, which must be the only reason that the next sentence comes rushing out of my mouth.
“I’ll help you with your business if you help me have a baby.”