Chapter 33
A Can of Whoop Ass
Duke
Holy shit, Wheeler looks exactly like her mom.
That’s my first thought.
My second: Who the fuck is the asshat in the pink polo and boat shoes?
“Preston Rankin.” He gives me a once-over before shoving his hand in my direction. “Huh. A real cowboy.” He glances at Wheeler. “Didn’t think you were telling the truth.”
I give him a handshake that’s firm enough to border on pain. “I’m a real cowboy, yes. Nice to meet you, Preston. I’m Duke Rivers. Welcome to my family’s ranch.”
“It’s so beautiful!” Mrs. Rankin lifts her arms, clearly inviting me in for a hug. “You are too, Duke. Goodness, Wheeler, you should’ve warned me he was this handsome.”
“Fran,” the man behind her groans. He’s a rotund version of Preston, right down to the polo embroidered with a country club emblem and those dumbass boat shoes.
Who wears those things to a ranch?
“It’s all right.” Laughing, I give her the hug she’s looking for. “I see where Wheeler gets her good looks from. Y’all could be sisters.”
“Shameless,” Wheeler says, but when I lean back, I see that she’s smiling. “Haines! Hi!”
Her younger brother launches himself into her arms. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.” Her voice is a little thin.
Haines gives me a hug next. “You sure you’re ready for this?” he whispers.
I laugh. “I’m sure.”
He steps aside, but Mr. Rankin stays awkwardly in place.
“Sir.” I extend my hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Eyeing me, he takes my hand. “Tim Rankin.”
“I’m grateful y’all took the time to come all the way out here. How was the drive?”
“Oh, I drove. Please call me Frannie, by the way.” Wheeler’s mom smiles up at me. “And the ride was fine.”
Interesting. This man has the gall to not even split the drive with the woman he’s put through hell.
“Glad to hear it. Why don’t y’all come inside?” Patsy opens the door a little wider. “We’ll get you settled, and then we’ll get you fed.”
Tim makes a noise, like he’s already fed up. “Not sure that we’re hungry.”
“Dad, if you wanna lie down, go lie down. The rest of us will eat.” I can tell Haines is trying very hard not to roll his eyes.
I grab Wheeler’s hand again. Preston watches me do it, his expression carefully neutral.
“I need to use the facilities,” he says, then brushes past me inside. Tim follows closely behind.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Frannie says. “I just need to get our luggage—”
“I’ll get your luggage.” I glance over my shoulder. Were Tim and Preston going to come out after lunch to get the bags? Or were they really going to let Frannie carry it all in?
“Tim has a bad back,” she says, reading my mind. “And Preston will help after he uses the restroom. I don’t mind, really—”
“But I do mind you carrying everyone else’s bags.” I meet eyes with Wheeler. Her jaw twitches. I get why she’s pissed. “Y’all head inside. I’ll set your luggage in your rooms and meet you in the kitchen.”
Wheeler’s brows curve upward. “You sure? I can—”
“You won’t. And yes, I’m sure.”
“I’m sorry they suck,” she says.
“Wheeler.” Frannie gives her a look.
Wow, lots of family dynamics happening here. No wonder Wheeler’s been such a mess.
We have the world’s most awkward lunch ever with my brothers and their wives and girlfriends in the kitchen.
My family is predictably loud, but they also go out of their way to be friendly.
Ava tries to engage Tim on his work, but he responds with one-word answers.
He also takes one bite of his chicken salad—I made it with red grapes, walnuts, and celery, and it’s out-of-this-world good—then drops his fork and pushes away his plate, clearly pissed.
Sawyer meets my eyes across the table. What’s his deal?
Wheeler, meanwhile, is literally sweating as she tries to keep the conversation going. Preston quietly sips his water as his gaze wanders around the kitchen. I’m sure he’s assessing how much everything costs and in turn how wealthy we are.
A lot richer than you, dickhead.
Haines is the first to jump up and offer to help do dishes. Grateful the meal is finally over, I start to grab plates too. Wheeler tries to help, but I shoo her away.
“Rest.” I place her plate in the crook of my elbow. “Go put your feet up if you need to, yeah?”
That’s when I catch Tim watching me, his eyes narrowed.
Shit. Did I just give us away? Wheeler told her parents we were dating, but they obviously don’t know about the baby yet.
“I know everyone’s tired,” I add swiftly. “Your rooms are ready, so feel free to lie down for a bit.”
Cash stops me on the way to the sink. “You got this?” he murmurs, glancing over his shoulder. “Seems like a tough crowd.”
“I’m fine. It’s Wheeler I’m worried about.” I look at my girlfriend, whose posture tells me everything I need to know: stiff expression, shoulders slumped. Defeat is written all over her.
My chest clenches. If I didn’t know why Wheeler loved travel before, I do now: she wanted to get the hell out of the house she was raised in.
“Mollie is on standby,” Cash replies. “She’s known the Rankins for a long time. Which means she knows Wheeler is gonna need extra TLC this weekend.”
I tap his chest with my free elbow. “Appreciate that.”
“And you know you just gotta say the word, right? We’re all available if you need to, ahem, end the weekend early.”
My chest clenches again, for a different reason this time.
I’ve always loved my family, but now, I appreciate having them more than ever.
Growing up one of five kids was no picnic, but being part of such a close-knit crew certainly has its perks—my brothers having my back among them, no questions asked.
I want that for Wheeler too.
I want that for our baby too.
____
Thankfully the Rankins retreat to their rooms in the New House for the afternoon. Mollie whisks away Wheeler, the two of them disappearing to Mollie and Cash’s cabin.
Meanwhile, Wyatt gets a call from our contractor that there’s an issue with the new irrigation we’re installing on the Rivers’ side of the ranch.
He and I hop in his truck and drive that way.
We get stuck, literally and figuratively, in a ditch that’s ten feet deep and a hundred feet long trying to help the crew fix it.
So much for staying clean.
Back at home, I grab a late afternoon shower, then get dressed in my—our—bedroom. That way, Wheeler has plenty of time in the bathroom to get ready for dinner while I finish prepping the food.
She arrives at the cottage a few minutes later, looking tired but better than she did at lunch.
“You all right?” I pull her in for a hug.
She nods against my chest. “Yeah. I went back to the New House and spent some time with Mom and Haines. They love you.”
“Your mom okay? Your dad is…interesting.”
“Mom hasn’t been okay in thirty years, but she’s surviving.” Wheeler sighs. “We all are. I’m excited for dinner.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
She laughs. “Correction: I’m excited to eat the food you’re making. Already smells good in here. Thank you.”
“For what? Making you food?” I scoff. “Kinda my job, sweetheart.”
“And for pretending to enjoy my family’s company. I know they’re painful.”
“More painful for you.”
She nods again. “Sometimes I miss them. Other times, I…well, I don’t.” Looking up, she meets my eyes. “Makes me appreciate having you and your family that much more. What y’all have here is special, Duke.”
I brush her hair out of her face. “You’re special too. You survived twenty-seven years with your family. You can make it through dinner too.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely. Don’t forget you also have the best excuse to, ah, excuse yourself from dinner if you need to. Once they know I knocked you up, you can do whatever the hell you want.”
She grins. “I know.”
“Go get ready.” I give her ass a gentle slap. “I got everything handled.”
I finish the food, double-check that the table outside is properly set, and light a fire.
It’s all ready.
Cracking open a beer, I decide to relax on the couch in the hopes my nerves don’t overwhelm me. I’m careful not to wrinkle the button-up I ironed earlier as I sit heavily on the cushions and turn on the TV.
I keep the volume low enough so that I can still hear Wheeler in the bathroom.
There’s something comforting about the sounds that are slowly but surely becoming familiar: the water slapping on the shower floor, the blow dryer, the music she plays on her phone while she puts on her makeup.
Tonight, she’s listening to The Lumineers. I don’t mind that one bit.
After a while, I hear her emerge from the bathroom. Looking up, my mouth goes dry. Dick perks up.
I can only stare. She looks like a fucking bombshell with her red lips and curly hair.
She’s wearing a pretty blue dress with tiny straps and a neckline low enough to get me going.
Even though the dress is long, hitting her midshin, I can still see how hot those high heels she’s wearing make her legs look.
Her toenails—those are red too. I’m hit by the image of Wheeler seated on the bathroom floor, her head bent as she teaches our little girl how to paint her toes.
Shit, now I really can’t breathe.
Wheeler grins. “Hey, baby.”
God, I fucking love it when she calls me that.
“Blue.”
Raising her brows, she waits for me to finish the thought. Her grin becomes a smile. “You all right there, cowboy?”
“You’re feelin’ much better.”
She nods. “Amazing what a shower and some nail polish can do for your mood.”
I set my empty beer bottle on the coffee table and stand.
“You’re gorgeous.” I head her way.
Grinning, she crooks her finger. “You are too. Promise me you’ll kick my dad out if he offends you? Same goes for Preston.”
“I’m not kicking anyone out.” Curling my arms around her waist, I bury my face in her neck and inhale her scent. “I will gladly kick some ass, though.”
She reaches around to squeeze my ass. “I like the sound of that.”