Page 30 of Rope Me, Cowboys

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not really.”

I laughed and lifted another canvas. “Maria?” I asked, holding up yet another of the dark-haired woman standing beneath a stormy sky.

He swallowed before giving a curt nod.

“It’s okay,” I said, setting down the painting and touching his elbow. “Sawyer told me about her.”

“I know.”

I pulled back in surprise. “You do?”

“We share everything,” he said with a shrug.

“Everything?” I asked with a meaningful look at the paintings.

“They know I paint,” he said. “We’ve lived together all our lives.”

He was so innocent I didn’t want to spoil it by telling him what I really meant. After all, that’s how I’d gotten into this whole awkward situation with them.

“So this bitch who broke your heart,” I said, sitting down and gesturing to the painting. “Can I hunt her down and kick her ass?”

24

Amber

Before Holden could respond, his phone rang. He checked it before shutting off the ringer and setting it back on his bedside table. I was glad he hadn’t used the phone call as an excuse to get out of answering my question, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a woman calling, and that’s why he hadn’t answered. A little flare of protectiveness rose in me. If I had anything to do with it, I’d be joining in on their application process for future lady friends. Not just anyone was good enough for my gentle giant of a stepbrother.

“So about this Maria,” I said, gesturing to a painting. “Do you know where she is now?”

“No,” Holden said with a shrug, staring at the picture. “We haven’t talked to either of them since they took off. That was three years ago.”

“And you’re all still hung up on her?” I could barely remember my boyfriend from three years ago, the one before Charlie.

“It’s not like that,” he said. “We’re not in love with her anymore. It just taught us to be careful with who we trust.”

“Well, thank you for trusting me enough to tell me,” I said, touching his arm again. “And to show me your paintings.”

“You’re our sister,” he said with a shrug.

Both of us turned to the painting on the easel at the same moment. “We’re not related,” I reminded him. “Not by blood.”

“I know,” he said. “But most people don’t make that distinction.”

“I think they do,” I said, my hand lingering on his arm. God, I wanted to feel up that muscle. I must be getting really desperate if I was fantasizing about groping his arm. And feeling them wrapped tight around me, crushing me under that barrel chest of his…

“You saw Mrs. Grimes last week,” he said.

“I hope she never sees these paintings,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

Holden smiled. “Lord help us if she does.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I actually came in here to ask about that. And to say I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For the other day,” I said. “When we ran into each other. I don’t want things to be awkward anymore. I’ve been so bored and lonely since you stopped talking to me.” I didn’t mention that I’d been so lonely I’d almost broken down and called Charlie. I had lots of time to think about him while my stepbrothers were ignoring me.

A pained expression crossed Holden’s face. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right, we’ve been rude. I didn’t think how…” He broke off and shook his head. “You’re alone here, and we’ve got each other.”