"Let me help you load up?—"
"Oh, no. I got it, really."
"I insist," Luke said, coming around the counter.
"Alright then, after you."
When the supplies were loaded up, Luke met me at the driver's side door of my truck.
"Listen," he palmed the back of his neck in a movement that was so like one I'd seen Brody do a dozen times already. "I was wonderin' if you might like to go out for a drink sometime. We only got the one bar in town, but could always head down to Bozeman if that's more up your alley."
Fuck.My brain ping-ponged between ways to answer this genuinely kind and not-unattractive-at-all man. On the one hand, havin' a drink with Luke sounded like a good time. On the other, I'd seen his brother's dick up close and personal—and even though I said we'd best stick to being just friends, I'd really like to see it again.
I didn't wanna give Luke the wrong idea. And I didn't want to hurt Brody by bouncing from him to his brother.
"Well, Luke. I'd love to have a drink with you, but maybe just a friendly drink, yeah? I'm not really in the market for much more right now."
Not a lie. Not the whole truth.
Six o'clock ona hot June night and the sun was still showing off. Still glowing bright like it was just starting off its day while the rest of us were beat to hell from a long day's work. It lounged over the Bitterroots, flirting with the jagged peaks, daring them to try and swallow it whole—but it'd be hours yet.
I clomped my Docs up the three wide steps to the wraparound porch of the main house with a case of PBR tucked under my arm, the cardboard already damp and soft where condensation had soaked through. The porch stretched wide on either side of the door, shaded but still holding the day's heat in the floorboards. I shifted the case to my hip and rapped my knuckles on the screen door, then turned around and rocked back on my heels while I waited.
I gave the mountaintops in the distance another long, lingering look.
It was a sight I could get used to.
And that was exactly the problem.
The best part about leavin' was nobody got to keep their hooks in you. You didn't stick around long enough to be used.
Or controlled.
Or anything.
"Calvin, hey."
I turned around to see Sassy opening the door. As she did, shouts rang out from the inside of the house, followed by the telltale sign of a glass shattering. Her eyes went wide and she scurried out onto the porch with me, letting the screen door slap shut behind her.
"Jesus, he is in rare form today."
Didn't miss the disdain in her voice or in her expression as she walked to one end of the porch toward a cozy set of outdoor furniture.
Color me confused.
"Who, Rhett?"
Other than some words of lethal warning, I hadn't seen the man so much as raise his voice all week.
Sassy snorted as she dropped onto one end of a cushioned wicker sofa, tucking her bare feet under her. "No way. Have you met him? Not much ruffles his feathers."
We'd have to agree to disagree on that one. I'd say the Brody-Sassy drama had given his feathers a big ol' fluffing.
"That'd beMr.Calloway." She made a little air-quote motion before jerking her chin toward the door. "I take it you haven't met yet?"
We hadn't, and I'd been curious. It wasn't Rhett's name on this ranch. I knew it had been purchased by his father a couple decades ago.
But I wouldn't pry. Didn't need any cause for suspicion.
