Chapter 11
ERICA
The drive out to the ranch is never-ending, but scenic, at least. I’ll admit to staying in my little corner most of the time, rarely even venturing to the mountain, much less the other side.
But we drive through Great Falls and Brody points out things of interest .
. . the corner where he had his first fight—he was nine, he says, and of course it was about a girl.
The feed store, ‘Buy supplies for the critters there, other than hay, of course,’ like I would know that, and his favorite restaurant, a honkytonk named Hank’s that has meatloaf to kill for.
“Meatloaf? Worth a life? I doubt that,” I say skeptically. “Meatloaf is pretty much the fuck-it-all of dinners. Oops, not enough meat? Throw some breadcrumbs in it. Taste like shit? Cover it in ketchup. I’m not buying it.”
“You’ll see. It’ll change your life,” he says with a smile. An actual one, with light in his dark eyes and his white teeth showing between those full, kissable lips.
Not too long ago, I’d thought he simply never smiled.
There’d always been something behind it, a little bit of mischief or challenge, something at least. But now, he looks happy.
Pretty sure I did that with my pussy. Okay, maybe my personality a tiny bit too.
The thought is exciting. Somehow, so is eating dinner at some future date with him, even if it’s meatloaf.
We leave the small town that honestly looks quite picturesque with its rural, comfy vibe.
I can imagine tourists who come to the resort taking a quaint getaway day trip to Great Falls when they need a break from skiing.
But for the locals, it’s home, with a cute downtown Brody says is where they have festivals, playgrounds teeming with kids, and an old-style movie theater with only two screens.
It’s different from Morristown on the other side of the mountain for sure, which is mostly commercial in contrast. We have a downtown and locals, and it’s home to me, but it feels more businesslike all the time.
Not the same welcoming warmth Great Falls has.
I should’ve come over here more often. Not just the occasional farmer’s market trips with Emily.
Maybe I will come over more often with Brody here, I think. I meant it when I said I don’t have time for anything serious, but a little part of me isn’t ready to drop him off and drive away. Not today, at least, when the garage is closed and the day is mine to do with as I please.
The road becomes more deserted, only an occasional truck passing us, and Brody directs me well beyond the outskirts of town.
“There’ll be a break in the fence on the right.
” I see it and turn in carefully, feeling the bumps of metal beneath the truck.
“Cattle guard,” he explains. “Keeps them from just waltzing out the front gate.”
“You leave it open?” I ask. I don’t know why, but that worries me.
Like I know shit about taking care of cows, but that doesn’t sound safe.
Is cattle theft still a thing? If so, a thief would just need to back up to the front door and rob ’em blind.
Okay, maybe that’s an overreach, but I’m a total city slicker and proud of it.
Brody shakes his head. “No, I texted that I’m incoming so someone rode out to open it because I don’t have an opener with me. I’ll close it after you leave so we’re secure for the night.”
Relief washes through me. That the cattle are safe or that he is? As if he needs protection. I internally roll my eyes at my protective streak. It’s just habit. Protect Emily, the garage, Mom and Dad, the whole damn country.
We pull up to a two-story country house, white with black trim that matches the barn set off to the right. There are several trucks parked outside, and I can’t help but mentally take their measure. Mechanic’s habit.
“Shit.” Brody’s murmur is under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” I look around, looking for . . . something?
Two men appear in the doorway of the barn. I can see the grin on one from here, it’s that bright. The other guy looks thunderous, murderous.
“Who’s that?” I ask, on edge as I switch out my feet to put my left on the brake and right hovering over the gas. Old habits die hard, and if we need to move quickly, I’m fucking ready.
“My boss, Mark. His brother, Luke.” Brody’s voice has a tinge of affection to it, but I suspect he doesn’t realize it. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
The adrenaline coursing through my blood evaporates to be replaced with fizzy nerves as I throw the truck in park.
I hop down and meet Brody at the back gate.
Neither of the Barn Door Boys moves. That’s what I’m calling them because in my head, they’re a boy band and therefore the least intimidating guys ever, not that I’m scared of anyone, ever. Usually. Mostly.
You know how mirrors have that warning, ‘objects are closer than they appear’? Perspective is like that as we walk closer to the Barn Door Boys too. Only as we get closer, they get even larger.
Dear God, what the hell do they feed these guys out here?
I know I’m small, have dealt with that disadvantage my whole life, and Brody’s big.
No doubt about that. But I’d figured he was a one-off.
Nope, there are at least two more just like him—tall, broad, muscled, with a healthy dose of asshole.
Different versions of it—one cocky, one mean—but different sides of the same coin.
Been there, done that with a veritable buffet of options when I got my uniform.
Military guys all have a good streak of asshole-itis.
Me included. You have to if you want to handle even a single enlisted day.
And that thought makes me stand a little taller and face the Barn Door Boys head on with my own five-foot-nothing version of a swagger.
Brody makes introductions. The mean one is Mark and the cocky one is Luke. “Good to meet you, Rix.” Luke holds out his hand.
It definitely did not escape my notice that Brody introduced me as Rix, though he’s never called me the name everyone else does. I know it started as an easy way to irk me, but I like that he calls me Erica. A little. Fine, a lot.
“Mama Louise set an extra plate at dinner.” Mark’s simple statement is heavy with meaning.
Brody turns to me. “You are absolutely welcome to stay, but don’t feel like you have to. She’ll understand if you want to run. I sure as fuck did when she first got her claws into me.”
Luke snorts. “We were stuck with her from birth. You could’ve run. You chose to stay around.” Mark clears his throat, which could mean nothing, but I’m pretty sure he just subtly told Luke to ‘shut the fuck up.’
Brody’s eyes flash something dark and pained, but it’s gone quick as a blink so maybe I’m wrong because his answer is light and teasing. “Don’t let him fool you. Mama Louise is the scariest thing on this ranch and no one stands a chance against her.”
All three guys nod like that’s the God’s honest truth, and I’m curious as can be about a woman who has these monsters damn near quaking in their boots. “I could eat before my drive back, I guess. Though I’m a vegetarian. That gonna be a problem?”
Mark and Luke lose their foreheads to their eyebrows. Brody’s lips quirk in amusement without giving away that I’m fucking with them. He knows I’m full of shit since he saw me pack away a huge corndog at the car show today.
“Just kidding. Take me to the beef show.”
The Barn Door Boys breathe a sigh of relief as Brody chuckles. But they quickly set him right, Mark telling Brody, “Shay made a pot roast today.” Again, such simple words, but everything Mark says seems to have three more meanings, each deeper than the last.
“Shiiiit.” Brody’s horror doesn’t equate with the dinner menu, and that confuses me until he asks the guys, “What’s she been up to?” Mostly, he’s giving a hairy eyeball to Luke, and I remember Brody said that he’s married to Shayanne.
“Little bit of this, little bit of that. Ranting about you quite a bit. But don’t worry, I distracted her for you.” Luke’s grin is back in full force as he offers a wink to go along with the day’s report.
I elbow Brody, sensing his torture and piling on the way only friends can. “Cowboy, I think that means he was dicking your sister to shut her up.”
Blink. Blink. Blink.
Three cowboys look at me blankly for a long, slow heartbeat as they process whether I actually said what I said.
Brody, used to me already, unfreezes first. “Damn it, Erica. Don’t say shit like that about my sister.”
Mark snorts and Luke points at me. “I like her, Brody.”
As we head into the house, the Barn Door Boys stomping their boots to get the dirt off, Brody whispers in my ear. “I like you, too.” The sweetness is tempered when he nibbles my earlobe a little hard, a nip for my own biting words.
I take a steadying breath as we walk in the back door, ready to face down the monster inside if the guys’ description of Mama Louise is accurate.
From behind the wall of the Barn Door Boys, I’m invisible because I hear a woman’s voice say, “Well, where is she?”