Page 56 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

I put that thought out of my head. Leaving Coyote Creek wasn’t something I’d ever really contemplated doing, not like most of my brothers. But if it was what Wyatt wanted, I’d do it.

“Got the stuff,” Cal said brusquely as he dropped some paper takeout bags on the kitchen counter.

“Thanks,” I said, then grinned and gave him a thumbs up when he pulled a bottle of champagne out of another paper bag. “And the cake?”

“Right here,” he said, setting down a white bakery box.

“Flowers?”

“Gotcha covered,” he said, pointing to the plastic-wrapped bouquet on the counter. “Seriously, don’t you trust me?”

I shook my head. “No, I mean, yeah. I do. I do trust you, Cal.”

He grunted at me, lifting a brow. I stepped closer, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thanks for all your help. I really appreciate it.”

He huffed and glanced away. “Wyatt’s a nice guy,” he practically grumbled. “Can’t have you breaking his heart or something.”

I grinned, then squeezed Cal’s shoulder a little tighter. He’d been helping me with the renovations and things had been going surprisingly smoothly, but he still knew how to get under my skin like nobody’s business.

The front door squealed open, and we both turned. The place was small enough that I could look right through the kitchen, through the living room, to the front door.

“Uh, hi?” Wyatt called, peering around the doorframe.

Cal clapped me on the shoulder, nearly knocking me forward into one of the walls we’d just re-drywalled. I glared at him.

“Oh, hey Cal!”

“Hey yourself,” Cal said as he sauntered toward the foyer. “Here, let me give you a hand with that.” He hefted up a suitcase, nearly stumbling under its weight. “Jesus Christ, Wyatt! Youhauling bricks around?”

“If you are,” I said, “turn ’em over. They’re not cheap, and I wanna finish the east wall in them.”

“No bricks,” Wyatt said, flushing. “Just my stuff.”

“Huh,” said Cal, setting the suitcase down near the front closet with a thump. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He paused, then did a double-take at Wyatt. “Look at you!” he cried. “What’s Vern been feeding ya?”

Wyatt turned bright red.Rude, I thought, then elbowed my brother in the back, nearly knocking him over.

“Weren’t you just leaving?” I asked, lifting a brow as Cal recovered himself enough to breathe. “Lisa told me the Orchard sold yesterday.”

“Fuck, really?” Cal asked. “Already?”

“Mm,” I said. I’d told him because I knew full-well it would get his goat. I didn’t know what was up with my brother and the old McLeod homestead—the place we all knew as the Orchard. He’d had a bee in his bonnet since the place went up for sale about a week ago. As far as I could figure, he’d had his eye on the place—which was hilarious.

Wyatt thoughtwewere rich, but there was no way in hell Cal could afford the Orchard.

Without another word, Cal stomped out, leaving me with my thoroughly embarrassed mate. “Ignore him,” I said when the door had banged shut.

Wyatt was still looking at the floor—or, perhaps more accurately, his belly.

Cal had a point—he hadn’t seen Wyatt much lately, and, well, the veterinarianwasa bit … softer than he had been when he first showed up. Still. It wasn’t Cal’s place to say anything, and it was ruder than rude to comment on it unsolicited.

“He’s right though,” Wyatt said softly, then grimaced. “Maybe I should … join a gym or something.”

I barked a laugh. “No gyms in all of Coyote Creek,” I told him. Then I cocked my head. “You could take up riding. Or running or something, if you felt up to it.”

Wyatt pressed his lips into a line. He glanced up at me. I took a sharp breath. “But hey—let’s not worry about that right now. It’s your birthday!” I held my arms wide. “I’m sorry I didn’t get the bathroom done yet, but come look at the kitchen.”