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“Macy talks about that place like it’s thriving.”
The mention of her name draws my attention to her, catching the curvy beauty in a full-on infectious moment of laughter. She slaps the table, practically falling out of the booth.
As if she can feel my focus like a caress, her gaze flickers to mine for a full second. Those beautiful eyes sparkle in a way that causes the coldest places inside me to thaw. Places that have never been warm before. Pretty sure I’m fucked.
I swallow hard. “Yeah, could you tell her to tone it down some? She’s got Paps all excited about renovations and improvements and turning the ranch into an official animal rescue. She keeps sending him all these damn animal videos.” I didn’t even think the man could access social media. If I thought it were possible to turn the ranch into some sort of profitable animal sanctuary, I’d have already done it. But things are too far gone for that option to ever pan out. The numbers don’t lie. We’re way past sink or swim.
“Sheriff, I’m sorry to bother you.” Annabelle caps a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder, giving a subtle backward nod to the table where Chad is camped out.
“Time for someone to find a ride home?”
“I called him an Uber.”
“We have Uber?” Emerald Creek isn’t exactly a large metropolis, population 2704 after the Hanson twins were born last month. But this odd detail causes me to frown. I’ve let myself become wholly buried in the ranch since I came home. Outside of some errands I run for Grams and the occasional ice cream indulgence at The Cow’s Moo, I hardly leave the place. If it wasn’t for Grams’ updates at the breakfast table, I wouldn’t have even known about the twins.
“Just Todd Bowler,” Annabelle clarifies as Wyatt scoots out of his seat.
“The high school history teacher?” The man is Paps’ age, but if rumors are true, he refuses to retire.
“He makes a killing on the weekends.”
“Need help?” I offer to Wyatt.
“Not yet.”
Another eruption of laughter from the women’s corner booth threatens to be my undoing. At least my twitching dick seems to suggest I desperately need a distraction from the too enticing Macy Knight. While I wait for Wyatt to escort Chad and his buddies outside, keeping a discreet eye on the scene in case he needs backup, I pull out my phone. I need some backup when it comes to the ranch and Paps. I’m sick and tired of doing all this shit by myself.
Ryder: Family meeting ASAP. It’s about the ranch.
Liam: Not tonight. Been working OT all week.
Weston: In Hillsdale until tomorrow. Working on an estate project.
Ryder: Colt, you better be fucking home this weekend.
Liam: He’s home. Had dinner with him at Mom’s last night.
Liam: Can’t promise he’s not in jail today, though.
Ryder: Colt, you’re not in fucking jail, are you?
Colt: Not today ;)
Colt: Who the fuck calls a family meeting on a Friday night?
Colt: Oh, right. The brother that has no fucking life.
I scrub a violent hand through hair that is more than a week out of military regulation. This is why everything has fallen to shit in the years I’ve been gone. Everyone’s too damn busy staying away from the ranch. I’d bother Dad, but I already know he’s not interested in saving the ranch. He’d probably fucking celebrate if the bank took it.
Liam: Go easy on him, Colt. It’s not his fault there’s a stick wedged so far up his ass he can’t get it out.
Weston: Is Paps okay?
At least one of my brothers is taking me seriously.
Ryder: Paps is fine. Party’s still on. I’ll ambush you fuckers then.
I’m muting my phone when the familiar floral scent rushes my senses.
