“Thank you.” He slid behind the register, nervous as a hooker on nickel night. “I like vanilla.” He placed my purchase into a cloth bag with the store name imprinted on it. “Cash or debit?”
“Oh, uhm, cash.” I had a few bucks in an account in Oklahoma but I needed to hang onto whatever funds I could now I was behind the eight ball in terms of income. I paid for my books then passed my now empty cup back to Aubrey. Our fingers slid over each other’s at the hand off. A tingle of attraction coursed through me at the contact. “Guess I’ll see you around town then.”
“You a newcomer like me?” He carefully handed over my tote. No touching took place.
“No, no, I’m from Chance. Just coming home to rehab,” I explained for no reason other than hearing the sound of my own voice being answered by another voice. His attention flittered to my neck, which was badly bruised and swollen from the break and the surgery. The discoloration had even crept up to my jaw. “Yeah, broken clavicle. Bull stepped on me.”
His pretty eyes went round as a manhole cover.
“Thanks again.” I rubbed at my nose, the itching starting already, and eased out of the bookstore with a twinge of regret. Sitting around discussing poets with him seemed a whole lot more fun than what I was facing next. There was still time to change my mind. Just keep driving until I hit the Arctic Ocean. Maybe I could live with the polar bears. Eat seal. Scare people. Play on the ice floes. Eating raw seal sounded way more enjoyable than seeing Abel but reality was one cold mother fucker so I climbed behind the wheel of my beater truck and headed to the ranch, my pink trailer rattling along behind me. If Lady Luck were with me I’d fall asleep at the wheel then all my worries would be over. Tree meet Hoyt. Hoyt meet tree.
Lady Luck was a cold-hearted bitch.
I didn’t crash once. The meds had me feeling a little soft in the head but I’d somehow managed to keep in my lane until I couldn’t then I pulled over to sleep it off. Upon waking I found it to be two hours later. Cotton mouth had set in but I had nothing to drink. Again. I did find some stale gum in the glove box so I chewed on that until I reached home.
Home.
That word should have been filled with Norman Rockwell oil-painted emotions. Instead it filled me with dread. Easing the truck to park in front of one of the barns I sat there, Dodge idling, unsure if I should cut the ignition or floor it. I was leaning towards gassing her when Jesse stepped out onto the front porch of the main house. The dwindling daylight fell on the porch. He appeared older, which no shit Hoyt, but his eyes were big and bright like I recalled. Big man, strong, rugged, handsome. Wearing jeans, a Carhartt coat, and a wariness that translated perfectly across the distance from porch to truck.
He lifted a hand. I did the same. My gut was tight as a banjo string as I killed the engine.
Guess we’re staying.
Like we had anywhere else to go.
I eased myself out and down, feet stepping onto land they had not trodden for over twenty years. Jesse came down the front steps, hands at his side, his face unreadable.
“Hey,” I called just to put something out in the air other than the lowing of cattle.
Another guy stepped out onto the porch. Stranger, good-looking, with a protective aura about him. Slim, shorter than Jesse, curls.
“You got taller.”
Jesse nodded. “You got older.” His gaze went to the purple and black bruises. “You look bad.”
“I know.” We stood about three feet apart, brothers who had drifted so far apart we might as well be on separate continents. “The bruising will fade. The ugly is here to stay.”
“Stupid,” he mumbled and it took me right back to when he was a little guy who possessed about a dozen words. Stupid and Hoyt two of his favorites. “You were never ugly. Just stupid.”
That made me chuckle. He moved in fast like a rattler, to throw an arm around me in a fumbling hug that made me wince and groan.
“Sorry, shit.” He released me quickly as the guy on the porch moved closer.
“It’s fine.” My gaze went to the stranger. Twinky for sure now I had a closer look. Maybe gloss on his lips. Wow. That was…unexpected. Who exactly was this dude? I wanted to ask who he was but that was none of my business. Not now anyway.
“This is my…this is Lucas. He’s the majority owner of the ranch now. Walter’s grandson.” A moment ticked by. Jesse then pulled Lucas into his side. “Actually, Lucas is my boyfriend.
“Oh.” That was my stellar response.
Holy shit. Holy. Shit. Okay, well things had changed round here. Guess that’s what happens when you ignore your family. They move on with life.
I held out my right hand. “Hoyt.”
Lucas gripped my hand, firm. “Hi, nice to meet you.” His smile was polite and open.
“Likewise.” It was killing me to dig deeper but this ranch and what happened on it was none of my business now. Majority owner. Huh.
“I was expecting you sooner.”
