RAMSEY
“I don’t knowhow either of you do it,” I said, leaning back against a black leather couch and crossing a leg over the other. “I’m exhausted watching you. Bairns, bairns, and more bairns.”
Flynn and Duncan exchanged a look. “I guess that means you don’t feel the inclination anytime soon?” my brother asked, arching a dark eyebrow.
“Subtle, brother, real subtle.”
Duncan’s laugh was booming, and he sounded just like our father. I felt a sharp pain in my chest, which I effectively ignored.
“We could sit here and regale you with tales of fatherhood,” Flynn replied good naturedly. “But I doubt it will change your mind. If anything, it might convince you to remain a womanizing bastard for all eternity.”
“Says the man who was also a womanizer in his heyday,” I pointed out.
Flynn went to the liquor cart. “Ah, the good ole days.”
“Right.” I shook my head. “You wouldn’t exchange what you have with Barrett for my life, would you?”
He poured us three glasses of scotch. “I’ve already had your life. I enjoyed it when I lived it. Now I enjoy other things.”
“The same woman every night,” I stated. “Sounds dreary. Even if Barrett has enough personalities to keep you entertained.”
“Donotlet my wife hear you say that or she’ll have your bollocks for it,” Flynn said as he walked over to me and handed me a drink. He clinked his glass against mine and then gave Duncan his.
“Why does she need mine, when she already has yours?” I taunted.
Flynn’s smile was slow as he looked at me. “Ramsey Buchanan, I never thought I’d live to see the day…”
“What day is that?” Duncan asked.
“The day that Ramsey is jealous, and tired of the endless parade of women that run through his life.”
“I’m not tired of that,” I lied.
“Aye, you are,” Flynn said with a chuckle. He took a seat next to Duncan on the other part of the leather couch.
“You look weary,” Duncan said.
“Of course I’m weary. Between my sisters-in-law and the flock of nieces and nephews, it’s a wonder any of you find any sort of peace.”
“Well, Ash and Barrett are in the den. The bairns are bathed and asleep,” Flynn pointed out. “We have all the peace we could want.”
“This is rare,” Duncan said. “The three of us together in the same room.”
I finally took a drink of scotch, enjoying the peaty burn as it slid down my throat.
We were silent for a moment and then Flynn said, “You look tired, lad.”
I grinned. No doubt it looked feral instead of the usual charming veneer I portrayed. “An all-night fuck fest before getting on a plane will do that to a man.”
“Who is she?” Duncan asked.
I shrugged. “No one important. Don’t even remember her name.”
Duncan and Flynn exchanged another look.
“Stop that,” I snapped. “You both had your fun. Let me have mine.”
“Doesn’t look very fun,” Duncan murmured.
