7. Duke
DUKE
We usually have the ranch hands do this job because it’s sweaty and miserable. But I needed to let off some steam and exert some energy. Holden and Sam seem to know that’s what I need more than to talk about my feelings, so they came with me and haven’t said much.
I’m up on the back of the trailer, sitting on the stacks of square hay bales.
Holden is driving the truck, just like he did when we were kids.
We finished the last field and are heading in for the evening.
Sam is sitting across from me, drenched in sweat like I am.
The familiar manure and hay scent fills my nostrils as we pass by a herd of cows in one of the front pens.
They’re waiting to be sold off at the next auction, complaining loudly.
My once-white T-shirt is practically soaked through, and I’m itchy all over from the hay.
Holden backs the trailer up to the barn. I start carrying the bales off the trailer to Sam, who’s stacking them against the back wall. My Stetson keeps the sun and sweat out of my eyes. My stomach growls with hunger from the hard day’s work.
When we’re about halfway through, the hem of my shirt gets caught on a loose wire on the trailer and tears the bottom up a few inches. I’m already itching like crazy, so I just rip it the rest of the way.
I look up as I’m peeling it off my shoulders, my gaze meeting the widened eyes of Dallas Hayes. I smirk as I finish taking the destroyed shirt off and toss it to the ground.
“Hey there, darlin’.”
She swallows, her eyes trailing down over my sweaty abs and arms. My muscles are aching from lifting so many hay bales. I grab another, tossing it off the trailer to Sam. Dallas’s twin boys are running around her in circles with Rosie and the girls coming up behind them much more calmly.
“Hey, how much longer? Dinner is ready,” Rosie says to Holden.
“We’re just about done, angel.”
I grab another bale, tossing it to Sam. We have about ten left, but I don’t see any reason to delay the show for our new audience. I take off my cowboy hat, wiping the dripping sweat from my brow while Holden talks to Rosie.
One of the small boys climbs up into the trailer while his mom is distracted. Dawson, I think, starts trying to grab the closest bale and pull it toward the end of the trailer.
“Wow, you’re strong.” I grab the other wire and start tugging with him.
He grunts, barely making any progress until I pull with him.
Pretty soon, Dutton hops up there with him and goes for the next closest bale.
They look adorable while dragging the squares toward the end of the trailer.
I move behind them, grabbing a wire from each of their bales to help them get it to the end of the trailer.
“That’s what I’m talking about. Just the kind of help we needed out here.”
They’re both grinning at me when Sam and Holden take their bales to stack them.
“We’re not done. Gotta keep working,” I tell them, leading them back over to the remaining few bales.
We do the last few the exact same way. Their cute little faces are focused on the task as they follow my lead.
They don’t give up, helping me until we finish unloading. I hold my hands up to give them each a high five before meeting Dallas’s eyes.
She’s gaping up at me, eyes shiny. I step down from the trailer, and each of the boys hops off after me. She blinks up at me, finally closing her pretty mouth and swallowing.
She looks incredible, as always. Her blond hair is up in a messy bun with a red bandana tied around it like a headband.
She’s wearing a cropped white T-shirt that shows off her tanned stomach and the faint marks I still want to run my tongue over.
Her jeans are so tight on her hips that they look like they could be painted on.
She’s wearing minimal makeup, and I already know she smells like jasmine and a hint of vanilla.
The gold hoops in her ears must be her favorite because she always has them on.
I’d give my left arm to hear her inner thoughts, hidden behind those emerald eyes. Her gaze scrapes over my sweaty abs one last time, but she doesn’t say a word before she turns away, trailing behind Rosie and Holden.
“Mama, did you see us helping? We’re cowboys now,” Dawson says.
I look down when I feel a tiny hand grab mine. Dutton has stepped up to walk beside me. He peers up with his mama’s big green eyes. Something squeezes in my chest.
When we get to the backyard, he doesn’t let go.
All the food is already laid out on the picnic table under the oak trees.
It’s a spread of chicken and beef street tacos with chips, homemade guacamole, queso, and salsa.
There are colorful toppings, like diced tomatoes, lettuce, cilantro, and shredded cheese.
“Looks great, ladies. Thanks for cooking,” I say.
Dolly is setting a pitcher of iced sweet tea and another one of lemonade in the center of the table.
“Where’s Pops?” I ask her.
“Inside, sleeping. He didn’t want to eat,” she says, eyes downcast.
Sam approaches her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“You guys are filthy,” Dolly complains.
Dutton doesn’t seem to want to let my hand go. Everyone is gathering around the table. Dallas stares at me as Dutton leads me over. I take a seat at the end of the picnic table, across from Dallas. Dutton plops down next to me.
“Are you going to put a shirt on?” she asks, her voice low.
I lean across the table. “Why? Is my bare chest distracting you, Mamas?” I wink at her.
Her cheeks flame bright red. She slowly shakes her head.
“Then I guess I’ll just eat like this then.” I grab the pitcher of sweet tea. “Tea?”
She nods, holding up her glass.
Her left ring finger is bare, making me curious about how things are with her husband. I fill her cup up, internally debating how to bring it up.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” she says quietly. “Rosie told me about …” Her voice trails off.
My gut feels hollow. I haven’t fully come to grips with the reality of my dad’s terminal diagnosis. After a few moments of tense silence, I finally nod.
“Thanks. Holden, quit hogging the queso.”
My older brother passes it down the table. I pour it onto a plastic plate. I notice it takes Dallas a few minutes to serve up her boys’ plates before moving on to her own. I’m already eating before she even has a chance to sit down and take her first bite.
I wonder where her useless husband is tonight.
Sam and Dolly are discussing the wedding with Rosie, but I’m tuning most of the conversation out. I’m internally debating how out of line it would be to just outright ask Dallas why he isn’t here. I mentally debate how to bring it up.
So, you’re not wearing a ring. Is there something you want to share with the table?
I can’t stop thinking about what you tasted like the other night, and I can’t force myself to care that you’re married. Are you still married, by the way?
Darlin’, you’re way too fucking beautiful to be wasting your life with a pathetic son of a bitch who’s never around.
I just wanted to let you know that if he ever sets foot on this ranch, I will take full advantage of my property-owner rights to beat his face with my fists until he’s unrecognizable. Sound good?
No matter how many ways it plays out in my mind, I don’t see it going well for me. She’d get all angry and embarrassed and leave. She might not ever speak to me again, and she would definitely skip out on the roping lessons for the twins.
“Duke, are you even listening?” Dolly interrupts my fantasies of whether or not I’d rather break Dallas’s husband’s nose with my left hook or the right one.
Definitely left.
I shake my head, looking over at my dark-haired little sister. “Sorry, what?”
She rolls her eyes. “I was wondering if your brown Stetson is still in good enough shape for the ceremony.”
I shrug. “Don’t know. Ask Dallas. She has it.”
My gaze meets hers, and I smirk when her eyes widen and her lips part.
“I—it’s in the car.” She turns toward Dolly, her words tumbling out. “I was wearing it and accidentally took it home the other day, after—I, it’s in the car. I’ll get it after dinner.” Her already-pink cheeks darken.
The entire table falls into an awkward silence. I almost regret making her feel so embarrassed.
We all know what it means when a woman wears a man’s cowboy hat.
I let her suffer for a few more seconds before finally laughing and facing my sister.
“Yeah, I think it’s in fine shape. When are you having the ceremony?”
Dolly’s eyes narrow at me before she answers, “In three weeks, out in the south pasture, under those two big oak trees. I want you to play a song for the first dance.”
I clutch my chest. “I’d be honored. What song?”
“‘Worst Way’ by Riley Green.”
“Done.”
Sam and Dolly’s wedding having to move up drastically because of Pops’s diagnosis is something we’re all silently miserable over. Sadly, we’ve known he was going to die from his addiction. It’s not that we want him to leave us, but the fact of the matter is that he’s been gone for a long time.
I’m thankful Dolly will get to have him here for this big moment in her life, even under these circumstances.
Rosie speaks from the other end of the table. “Dallas offered to help with invitations and anything else you may need.”
Dolly turns to look at Dallas. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m trying to keep things as simple as possible. The main thing we’re waiting on is the dress.”
“I can’t wait to see what you picked out. You’ll look stunning in anything,” Dallas says.
My sister smiles warmly. “I’ll show you a picture later, when it’s just us girls. You should come over early to get ready with us.”
“I would love to. That’s Matt’s weekend, so I won’t have the mini tornados with me.”
As if to emphasize her point, Dutton chooses that moment to launch his half-eaten tortilla at his brother’s head across the table. Dawson feels it smack him in the face and loudly protests.
“Hey!” His face scrunches up. He picks up a corn chip and hurls it at his twin.
Wait. That means they’re not together anymore.
“Did you two get divorced?” I ask her.
She gapes at me, slowly nodding.
Shit. She thought I knew.
Relief, mixed with a double shot of hope, courses through me.
Dutton throws his empty cup and narrowly misses his twin’s head.
“Boys, that’s enough,” Dallas scolds.
It’s wrong and twisted, but the sound of her mom voice turns me on. I shift in my seat.
Mommy issues much?
My mom passed away in a tragic car accident when I was nine years old. I’ve had an unhealthy attraction to moms ever since I hit puberty and was old enough to start crushing on them.
Sam’s mom was never around either, so the first mom I remember being attracted to was Rosie’s.
Yeah, I had a crush on my high school girlfriend’s mom. I used to play that song “Stacy’s Mom” when I ran in the mornings before school. And I’ll probably take that little twisted part of my history to my grave.
“You boys about ready to start your roping lessons?” I ask the twins.
Dawson nods vigorously.
Dutton looks up at me. “I wanna go right now!”
I nod, standing up. “There’s no time like the present. Let’s do it.”
Dawson exclaims, clapping, “Yes! Right now!”
“You boys had better ask your mama if it’s okay.”
Dutton runs around the table, and they both start begging her with their big eyes.
“Pwease, Mommy. Pwease, pwease.”
She sighs, nodding. “Just for a little bit. We’re going to leave soon, before it gets dark.”
I wait for her to stand. Everyone else is still eating and talking about the wedding plans. The four of us make our way over to the arena, where a rope is looped around one of the iron fence posts. I grab it, expanding the end through the knot to create a wide loop for roping.
“All right, first off, we gotta get our loop the right size. You stretch it out like this. You want it big enough to hook around the horns, all right? But not too big so that you can’t handle it.”
I open the side gate and let the boys and Dallas walk through before following behind them. She seems to be avoiding looking at my bare torso like it’s her full-time job. Her eyes are on the dirt, the boys, and the fading orange light in the distance as the sun sets.
I grab the cow dummy that’s up against the fence and drag it over to the center.
“Let me just show y’all a few tricks tonight, all right? It’s getting dark, and your mama wants to get home before then.”
The deer will dart out in front of a car on the road if you’re not careful, and considering that’s how I lost my mom, I’m not going to hold her up for too long.
The boys step back, eyes big as they focus on my getting the loop the right size. Then I twirl it around and throw it toward the dummy.
They cheer loudly when I get both horns on the first try. I look over at Dallas, resisting the urge to wink.
She’s not even looking at the dummy, where the rope is, because her eyes are glued to my bare chest.