1 #2
I drop both on the counter, bury my face in my hands, and exhale. I need something stronger than alcohol to get her out of my mind. Not even her being MIA for nine months can do it.
Fallon and I—we had something real.
Even if she didn’t feel it.
Because all I did was fuck it up.
Fuck us up.
And before I could work up the nerve to tell her how I feel, she left.
All because of Aiden King.
I bow my head. My hands turn to fists. Even two years later, I want to rage.
That motherfucker could have killed her. And what did I do earlier that night? I walked out on her. Because I threw a fucking tantrum at her bull riding announcement.
And then she was attacked. Taken. Hurt.
I should have been there. I should have protected her. I will never fucking forgive myself.
Because I’m the one who pushed her into that bastard’s arms.
I fucked around with Sheena Wolfington. I played games, acting like I didn’t care about Fallon. I took it for granted that eventually we’d get together. But Fallon’s as stubborn as a mule, and I’m a goddamn idiot. I waited too long, and it came back to bite me in the ass.
The next year, she met Aiden. She got hurt. And she pulled away from everyone.
Including me.
Then, after months and months of watching her in pain, she was gone.
Truth is, I’m pissed. Her leaving fucked me up bad.
Dakota got a note, and I didn’t. It fucking stings. I still have third-degree burns from the memory of her disappearing without a word.
But why would she leave me one? It’s crystal fucking clear she hates my guts.
I’ve tried to forget. Tried to move on. Tried to bury myself in work and a thousand other things that haven’t done a damn thing to ease the sting of her leaving.
Fallon McGraw. One damn woman I don’t have time for anymore. Even if I know it’s another lie in a long list.
The two-way radio on its charger crackles.
“Wyatt. You around?”
Davis.
“Kid? Get your ass on the line.”
Ford now. Christ .
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, dismissing all thoughts of Fallon to focus on equally important, equally annoying things. Like big brothers.
“Wyatt? You there?”
The pretty sing-song croon has me groaning. Reese.
“Goddamn,” I mutter. Now that everyone’s on the family channel, I never know a second of peace.
“Hey, Birdie Girl, fancy meetin’ you here.” Ford’s country drawl.
A sigh from Davis.
“Hey, Country Boy.”
I roll my eyes. Ford’s been married less than a month and is still acting like an idiot.
Unable to take their flirting for another minute, I storm the linoleum floor to snatch up the radio. “What do y’all want?”
“Dinner. Tonight,” Davis orders.
On a testy sigh, I glance at the bottle of vodka and the half-smoked joint. Both prospects look better than getting grilled by my big brothers.
I open my mouth. So many excuses on why I can’t make it form on the tip of my tongue. But if I put it off any longer, they’ll be here in a matter of minutes banging down my door.
It’s easier not to fight it. To get it over with.
“I’ll be there,” I growl.
“On time,” Davis snaps back pointedly.
“Bossy bastard,” I mutter and then shelve the tin coffee can. As I stomp for the door, I pause, running my hand across my rumpled sheets like I can almost feel her.
Trouble.
That’s what Fallon was.
All kinds of gorgeous, devastating trouble.
Hours later, sundown, I ride Pepita over to Davis and Dakota’s place in the Edens. After tying her to the old hitching post outside their gate, I let myself in the front door and stride down the hall to the kitchen, homebase for all our large family gatherings.
The second I enter, three pairs of eyes come up.
“You’re late.”
“You look like shit.”
“Where’ve you been?”
I groan at the immediate ambush of brotherly commentary.
They boss. They bark. They worry. There’s nothing like older brothers.
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble, stepping over Mouse, Ford’s black cat, who’s sashaying her way through my legs. “I’m here, ain’t I?”
Being the youngest means you can get away with murder, but it also means you’re subject to ridicule and scorn.
“Since you’re here, got a beer with your name on it.” Charlie hefts a six-pack on top of the kitchen counter. “Told you he’d be late,” he says to Davis.
“Try next time,” Davis orders gruffly, muscling his way past me to clap me on the shoulder. Keena, his Belgian Malinois, trots beside him.
I exhale slowly and slump onto a stool at the kitchen island beside Charlie, resisting the urge to slam my head against it. I don’t have a favorite brother, but I do have one I try really hard not to piss off. And that’s Davis.
A beaming brunette—Dakota—rises red-faced from the oven. She sets a pan of lasagna on the stove, then shoves a bowl of cookies my way as she tells Davis, “Don’t scare him off. He’s finally here.”
“I live here,” I mutter, wondering why my family keeps acting like I’ve just returned from war.
Ford’s eyebrows lift as he cuts a look in my direction. “Barely.”
“You missed Squish’s birthday,” Davis says with a frown.
“And mine,” Ruby adds, floating into the kitchen with Duke in her arms. Duke, Davis and Dakota’s two-year-old tornado, squeals when he sees me.
Shit.
Ruby’s sweet admonishment stings. I know what I’ve been doing the last nine months. Staying away. Burying myself in work so I don’t have to face facts. Face my heart.
Flashing her a contrite smile, I settle for cracking open a beer instead of one of my brother’s big fat mouths. “Y’all gotta get a new hobby instead of harassing me.”
“Got one.” Ford turns fully toward me, the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on his face. Lainie, Davis and Dakota’s sleeping two-month-old, is cradled against his chest.
“No one take her from him on threat of your life.” Dakota waves a spatula. “He’s the official baby whisperer.”
Reese laughs, strutting across the room in her highest heels. “Bodes well for me.” She leans into Ford and presses a kiss to his mouth.
I smirk at the dopey expression on my brother’s face. Married for less than a month, they’re still lost somewhere in newlywed bliss. Never thought my broody, love-averse brother would get his shit rocked by the sassy country singer, but he did.
Reese ran to the ranch last year after her superstar life spiraled out of control.
Ford was saddled with babysitting her, but over the course of a summer, she had him wrapped around her little finger.
That’s not to say it’s been easy for Ford and Reese.
Her manager, a complete fucking moron, kidnapped her, and needless to say, my brother lost his mind.
Now they live on a new piece of land a few miles away that doubles as Ford’s baseball camp.
I reach for a cookie and cram it into my mouth, hopeful that will stop the barrage of questions.
Duke shrieks, piercing everyone’s eardrums.
Ruby gasps. “Charlie, the cookies.”
“Fuck,” Charlie growls and dives for the platter. I watch in amusement as Charlie tries to hide the cookies, but seconds later, Duke comes thundering around the island. Blinded by the injustice, he latches on to Charlie’s leg and screams, “COOOOKIES!”
I laugh. “C, you are a grown-ass man trying to hide a bowl of cookies from a two-year-old.”
Davis runs a hand over his scalp. “He’s not allowed to have sweets after five.”
“What is he a gremlin?” I snag a cookie and pass it down to Duke. “Here, kid, go nuts.” Duke giggles and crams the entire thing into his mouth.
Davis sighs and scoops up his son. “Wyatt.”
Dakota drops her oven mitts on the counter and lifts a bottle of wine. “Let’s eat.”
Chaos ensues as we all grab food, kids, and drinks and settle at the kitchen table.
I drop onto a chair at the end in case I need an early exit, scanning my eyes over Davis and Dakota’s family room that faces the kitchen.
There is a leather sectional couch facing a rock wall fireplace.
Both the kitchen and living room open onto a massive deck that overlooks the ranch.
A good thing, too, because our family keeps growing.
The entire house smells like fresh lemons and sage. Like there’s so much life in it.
We all flinch as Duke cheerfully bangs a spoon against a tin plate. Mouse, curled up in the toybox, lifts her head at her interrupted nap.
I nod at Charlie and Ruby as I pour myself a glass of whiskey. “Y’all ready for that?” The surrogate they hired at the end of winter is four months pregnant. We can’t fucking wait. Another Montgomery.
Ruby’s answering smile and her bright eyes say it all. “Oh, yes,” she chirps, pulling her hands to her heart.
Charlie grins. “Can’t damn wait.”
Ruby looks like she’s going to explode from happiness. Charlie, too.
Ford holds up his beer. “Flower shop and a baby, y’all gonna be burnin’ the candle at both ends.” Charlie and Ruby finally landed a space in town, putting a deposit down on the vacant candy shop on Main Street.
“Ready for it,” Charlie gruffs. His blue eyes land on Ruby and soften. “All of it, Sunflower.”
Ruby arrived in town three years ago with a bucket list and a heart condition.
Charlie gave her a job and a place to stay, and soon, my grumpy brother fell head over boots for the sunshine girl.
She turned the ranch around but got hurt and almost died in the process.
Now that man can’t stop grinning like he won the damn lottery.
It’s about damn time, too.
After Charlie’s fiancée died in a rodeo accident over ten years ago, there was no other option but to follow him out to Montana to make sure he kept his damn head on straight. But I couldn’t do it alone. Ford came. And then Davis. We all got our asses to Montana to support our brother.
But it was Ruby who brought him back to us.
Truth is, she saved all of us. Because if he was a goner, so were we.
Charlie’s my brother. My best friend. I’ve got his secrets, and he’s got mine.
Most of ’em.