7. Milo
7
MILO
Thankfully, the ride to Magnolia Manor is uneventful.
It’s also silent.
Could hear a pin drop, silent.
So much so, this is the first moment since I upgraded my truck, buying my very first brand-new off-the-lot vehicle last summer, that I regret it. Because we don’t even have the road noise to help fill the space between us. Nope, nothing but silence.
And fuck, is silence loud .
Almost as loud as my mama’s kitchen when we’re all home. Or well, most of us. It’s been a while since all seven of us kids made it to a Sunday dinner. Even longer since we all made it regularly, something that I know hurts Mama’s heart. She understands that we’re adults now, and that life has its own way of taking over, but I know that deep down she wishes all of us were always around. Sometimes even still living under this roof.
Personally, I think that’s because she’s never attended Munch—short for Monday Lunch—the weekly executive meeting at Hayes Industries for the director of each branch of the company. Which, coincidentally, is the seven of us Hayes kids.
“Seriously, Gus?” Willa shrieks.
Her shrill commentary cuts through the Braves game our father, Auggie, has on the radio as he grills. I slowly sip my beer, not bothering to move from the spot on the railing of Magnolia Manor’s large back deck.
Sitting pretty in the middle of large, rolling acres, just down the road from the family’s original plantation house, Magnolia Manor is by no means small. It did have to house nine of us for a number of years. It’s Mama’s dream home, built for her by our father shortly after they got married, since neither of them wanted to live in what is now referred to as Hayes House, which is used as housing for our seasonal workers.
“We can understand and respect history without celebrating it,” Auggie always says when asked why he doesn’t live in the massive antebellum house that his ancestor built with their Civil War fortune.
Instead, he built this place, a bright white, Victorian house with wraparound porch, large back deck, and built-in planters to fulfill Miss Belle’s dream. She named it Magnolia Manor after the region of Georgia that Hickory Hills sits in—and proudly points out that she named our home long before a TV network made another home with a similar name a household name.
“So, Brandt make it to Colorado okay?” Auggie asks, ignoring whatever is going on in the house.
“Yeah. Made it safe and sound, and as far as I know, didn’t forget anything.”
We both chuckle, knowing exactly what my best friend is like. We’ve been inseparable since preschool, so my whole family knows how brilliant and charming the guy is, if not a little absent-minded at times .
“When does it all start?”
“This week. Not exactly sure which day or what his schedule is, other than he won’t be back ’til the week before Rhythm and Brews, leaving me with all the prep work.”
“Nothing you can’t handle.”
Glad one of us thinks so. What he doesn’t know is that I still don’t have any idea what to name this new beer. And the clock is ticking.
“No, I will not calm down!” Willa shrieks again.
Auggie and I both wince, but keep our comments to ourselves. If Willa’s voice can be heard out here, even though she’s still inside the house, I don’t need to be anywhere near that. Actually, come to think of it, moving farther away might be a better idea.
“It’s a solid business question,” Gus, our oldest brother, retorts.
Uh-oh, this isn’t going to end well.
Auggie turns away from the grill, giving me a look expressing the exact same thing I’m thinking. I love my siblings, and we’re about as close as they come, but we’re also all very different people. Each one of us is about as unique as the parts of the company we handle. Gus and Willa, the oldest and youngest of the family, respectively, are no exception.
The back door slides open, Brenna slipping out onto the porch, eyes wide and full of worry, like she’s escaping a war-torn country.
“It feels safer out here,” she says with a soft giggle.
Only because you can’t read my thoughts…
She smiles at me, the awkwardness of the last few days fading a bit—but only a bit—I’m sure aided by the fact that we’re surrounded by my family to help diffuse it. Because Lord knows, it’s not helping that she looks as beautiful as she does right now in those shorts showing off her legs and that tank top that is doing absolutely nothing but drawing my eyes to what I now know to be a stunning pair of tits. I just have to remember that she’s a little sister. Just like Willa.
“I dunno,” Auggie responds. “I’m pretty dangerous with the tongs.”
Errrr…what?!
Brenna lets out a strangled scoff, a horrified look on her face. A sentiment I share. Because apparently my father felt the need to up the awkward. Sweet Jesus.
“Seriously, Dad? Let’s never say that again.”
“What?” He claps the tongs together a couple of times, sending both Brenna and me reeling back. Auggie laughs, realizing that what he said was more than a little weird, holding up his hands in surrender. “At least I’m not Jack Keller, wearing an apron that says I like my pork pulled and butt rubbed. ”
This is true. We are all very glad that Auggie has never worn that. Although, I make a mental note that I need to ask my father’s best friend where he got that, and if they make it in T-shirt form. It would be a great addition to my collection.
“Miss Brenna, do I dare ask what those two are arguin’ about now?” Auggie asks.
“Gus asked Nash about a landscaping discount.”
“He what?” I about spit out my beer, her answer taking me by surprise. Big brother just put his balls on the chopping block.
I’m not sure why I’m surprised; such a thing is very on brand for Gus. Leave it to him to ask our sister’s boyfriend for a discount at family dinner. In his defense, he did at least wait a couple of months after the two of them finally removed their heads from their asses and admitted their feelings for each other. Watching Willa and Nash circle each other like two lions in heat for the last I don’t know how many years was starting to get old .
Auggie mutters something under his breath that I can’t make out, but I’m not sure I want to either. Turning toward me, he holds out the tongs, silently telling me to take over the grill.
“I assume that Jace is not helping matters?” he asks Brenna as he heads for the door. My second youngest brother, also the family wild card, is undoubtedly sitting there, letting the scene play out, while he sits back with a bowl of popcorn. She shakes her head, confirming what we already know, and Auggie sighs. “Let me go fix this before your mama steps in. Dinner won’t be pretty if Miss Belle is annoyed.”
Ain’t that the truth…
“Families are fun,” Brenna comments, sinking into an Adirondack chair next to the grill.
I smile at her, then turn my attention back to the veggie skewers, not wanting anything to burn. It’s also a fabulous distraction from her boobs. I’ve paid enough attention to them already. Still, I need to do something to fix the weirdness between us. She and I are going to be living together all summer. We have to move on.
“Try working with them.”
“I don’t know how you do it. Speaking of, though, catch me up. Because the way Gus was in there talking, it sounded like he’s in charge now? I thought he was the head of guns and ammo. Did Auggie retire and I missed it?”
“Not yet,” I tell her. “Though, it’s probably comin’ in the next few years. Gus is executive vice president, on top of being over guns and ammo, although we’re looking for someone to take over that if you know of anyone.”
“Everyone I know has a pharmacy degree.”
Good point…
“ Other than that, everything is still the same. Brandt and I run Southern Brothers, Ewan bought Knox County Bait and Tackle and renamed it the Booby Trap, Hux is over paper and the mill, Anton heads up agriculture, maintaining those precious three Ps…”
“Peaches, peanuts, and pecans!” Brenna says in unison with me.
“Willa is the director of corporate giving and”—I’m cut off by the sound of the screen door opening, Jace laughing as he joins us—“and this joker is our personal safety expert.”
“You’re over personal safety and yet you didn’t move out of the way of that fight?” Brenna pokes, smiling brightly. A smile that makes my dick twitch.
“Eh, that’s nothing,” Jace says, waving her off. He settles into the chair next to her, clinking the long necks of their beers together before he takes a swig. “Those two are harmless.”
“I don’t know. I witnessed the catfight between Willa and Kitty Cattaway earlier this year. Your sister’s got some claws on her.”
“When did Willa and Kitty have a catfight?”
“I told you about that,” I say, flipping the skewers again. Not to mention, I thought everyone in town knew about our sister getting into it with her longtime rival. “Miss Belle broke them up.”
“That I would have liked to see.”
Brenna and I give each other a knowing look, the shared memory of that moment like our own little secret. My heart squeezes, enjoying our inside knowledge a little too much. Or, maybe not. Big brothers can have this kind of moment with little sisters, can’t they? I share them with Willa, so Brenna should be no different.
There, problem solved.
The conversation lulls, the three of us content to sit in the quiet. That, and none of us want to disrupt the balance of being able to listen to the argument going on inside with being far enough away that we’re not involved. If given the chance, either side wouldn’t hesitate to rope us in, both believing that we’d support them.
I can’t speak for either Brenna or Jace here, but I'm on Willa’s side. Not that I’m inserting myself.
“Special delivery!” Anton declares, pushing through the doorway, hand full of plates and utensils.
“Oh, let me help!” Brenna says, popping up out of the chair. She makes it look easy—which anyone who’s ever tried getting out of an Adirondack chair knows it’s not—and my eyes fly to her backside, mind running wild.
I have got to stop that.
“Oh, it’s you,” Anton replies, smirking as he laughs.
Brenna gives him a curious look, taking the plates and turning to the large table on the other half of the patio.
“Were you expecting someone else?” Jace comments.
“I just walked in the door and was handed plates and instructed to set the table. Then was automatically scolded and told to be on my best behavior because we had a guest . I assumed that meant one of y’all brought a date.”
I freeze, tongs in midair. A date? Anton thought I brought a date?
I glance over at Brenna setting the table, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. Which is easier said than done, since she’s currently bent over said table, her shorts riding up her thighs, making my dick twitch all over again.
“Nope, just me!” she replies over her shoulder.
“You’re a guest,” Jace suggests.
“Is she though?” Anton questions. “Or are we just graced with another little sister for the day?”
“Sister,” I reply without thinking.
Brenna’s face falls slightly at my answer. Not enough for anyone else to notice, but I can see it in her eyes. One second they’re a bright, happy shade of brown, and the next they dim a tad. My gut clenches, immediately regretting my answer and the speed at which I blurted it out. It was more a reminder for me than anything else.
“Not that we’re not happy to have you, Brenna,” Anton backpedals. “But for a second I thought Sunday dinner was going to see its first date.”
“First date?” Jace questions.
“None of y’all have ever brought a date to Sunday dinner?” Brenna asks. “What’s Nash?”
“Nash,” I retort, laughing. My brothers join in, but Brenna quirks up one eyebrow, clearly missing the joke. Guess I should loop her in. “Nash didn’t start attending until after everything went down between them. Our dads are also best friends. So there wasn’t quite the same ‘meet the family’ vibe.”
“And Milo never brought Kimberly,” Anton continues.
“Kelly,” I correct him.
“You sure it wasn’t Kimberly?”
“Yes.” I think I’d know my own ex-girlfriend's name.
“Never?” Brenna says, the word coming out half question, half confirmation. I keep my focus on the grill, the meat and veggies just about done.
“Nope,” Anton continues to poke because that’s what he does best. Instigating little shit. “Never even introduced us.”
“You met her,” I defend.
I shift uncomfortably, wishing that we weren’t having this conversation, desperate to change the subject. Or at least the focus. Can we shift it to Jace and his love of romance novels? Or maybe Anton, and how he’s not exactly Mr. Long-term Commitment either.
“Barely. It was once, in passing, and only because she brought her friends to a Rhythm and Brews,” Jace tacks on.
Anton snickers. “Tell me, were you embarrassed by her, or us? ”
I sigh, flipping him the bird and seriously considering chucking one of these skewers at him. Suddenly I’m jealous of Ewan’s fishing expedition and Hux having to play wedding planner with his best friend, Dolly McLain. Right about now I’d do anything not to be here.
“Neither,” I bite out.
The real answer is pretty basic and not at all exciting—Kelly and I just never got to that point. Sure, we were together for what seems like a long time on paper, but we were also more than a hundred miles apart for most of that time. We started out casual and then stayed that way. By the time we broke up, we were more like friends with benefits than an actual couple. No part of me was surprised when she told me that she thought it would be best if we went our separate ways, because she was looking for more than I could give her. She deserved that.
Deserved more than I was willing to give her.
“I dunno. What do you think, Brenna? If the guy you were dating for almost two years didn’t ever take you to meet his family, would you think it’s because he’s embarrassed by you?”
I pull the last of the items from the grill, killing the gas. I’m so focused on ignoring my brother that it takes me a moment to realize that there’s a pause. One that’s more than slightly uncomfortable.
Turning around, I look at Brenna, her cheeks tinged pink, lips pressed together, like she’s just been called on in class and asked a question she doesn’t know the answer to.
“Errr…well, I…”
“Don’t feel like you have to take Milo’s side; you’ll still have a place to live this summer,” Anton pushes. “You've met parents in relationships shorter than that, right?”
“Anton!”
Instigating little shit …
“Oh, I…ummmm…” Brenna fumbles again.
The pink in her cheeks deepens. I would say it makes her even more adorable if it wasn’t plain as day that she couldn’t be more uncomfortable if she sat on a cactus. Which is about what I’m about to tell my brother to go do.
“Dinner time!” Miss Belle announces, breezing through the door.
Calm and even, ever the perfect Southern belle, my former beauty queen of a mother saves the day. Relief visibly washes over Brenna, who turns her focus to finishing setting the table. My insides ache, hating that we put her in the spotlight like that. Even if that is the exact thing we would have done to our own sister.
Grabbing the plates of veggies and meat, I give Anton a shove before heading to the table. He laughs, assuming that my reaction is in response to him calling me out over Kelly, rather than because he upset Brenna. Hell, I’d be shocked if he even realized he’d done the latter.
I’m not going to call attention to it though. Brenna deserves better. She’s also been embarrassed enough by the Hayes men this week to last a lifetime. No need to add anymore to that.
That means I need to get my head in the game and stop letting my dick remind me of how good she looks naked.