Page 6 of Blue Jeans in Low Beams

My blood starts to boil, my mind whirring with what on earth they could have possibly said about my middle brother.

“Apparently they could just use a little extra right now.”

I scoff. “That’s rich. Since they’re mooching off your parents while the Scarboroughs rebuild their rental house Topher ‘accidentally’ burned to the ground?”

Brandt just nods, letting the whole thing settle in the air, curdling as if it were spoiled milk.

“She does realize that Southern Brothers is a division of Hayes, so even if we found it in our hearts, he’s subject to the same pay scale and taxes, and accounting would likely put it all on the same paycheck. Hell, your dad is in charge of payroll!”

I shake my head. Things I didn’t think I’d be upset over today.

From the outside, I’m sure to many it looks like Brandt and I were gifted success. After all, I’m a Hayes. As in Hayes Industries, Fortune 500 company based in Hickory Hills, with divisions tackling industries such as guns and ammo, agriculture, paper, personal safety, the brewery, and the local bait and tackle shop. But success wasn’t guaranteed just because my family has money.

No, our success was earned.

Because what people don’t see is all the hard work the two of us put into our operation. All the late nights and early mornings. All those times one of us slept at the brewery to make sure that everything was okay overnight. They don’t know the inner workings—how my dad, Auggie Hayes, President, CEO, and owner of Hayes Industries begrudgingly gave us the seed money, and then told us we were on our own.

We built this business from scratch and are damn proud of it.

“Puh-lease, she wanted me to pay him under the table. That way Dad wouldn’t know.”

I about swerve off the road again. Sweet Jesus, Brandt’s middle sister has got some nerve. But enough of her. If we stay on this subject any longer, I’ll lose my cool. Back to the real topic at hand.

“Do me a favor while you’re gone, and don’t think about any of that. Enjoy this time. I’ll make sure Brenna is taken care of. Same love and care I give Willa, I will give Brenna.”

Which means I need to remember she is a baby sister…even if she is suddenly a lot more grown up than I remember…

“Blatant harassment and relentless teasing? That works.”

I laugh, unable to hold back at his assessment of my treatment of my sister. He’s not wrong. I am a sass-hole. And all-around little sister tormentor. Being child number two does have its advantages.

“Exactly.”

“Maybe you should have your own hot-girl summer,” Brandt suggests, teasing back. “’Bout time you got laid.”

I scoff. “I do just fine.”

“Do you though? I got ten bucks that says the only action you’ve seen since you broke up with that teacher up in Macon is your right hand.”

“First off,” I quip, “sometimes I use the left. You know, to switch it up. And second, cute blonde wine distributor when we were up in Atlanta back in March.” I smile wide at him, a shit-eating grin if there ever was one. “I accept cash.”

Brandt rolls his eyes, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. I’d say that I hate taking money from him, but that’d be a lie. I love it. Even if he does have a fair point. I’d broken up with Kelly, the teacher he mentioned, almost a year ago. No, more than a year ago. And the gal up in Atlanta, whose name I’m embarrassed to say I don’t remember, wasn’t anything to write home about. We were both so sloppy drunk, I’m surprised either of us remember it at all.

“Promise me you won’t work too hard this summer?”

“Stop worrying about us,” I reiterate. “Go back to the Fort, show off Southern Brothers, and make us proud. When you get back for Rhythm and Brews, the beer will be named, Brenna will be a certified pharmacist, and all will be right with the world.”

I hope…

3

MILO

I don’t know where my camel towing shirt is.

Yes, as in that camel toe.

Black, with the picture of a tow truck, a camel silhouette on the door, with the words “Camel Towing—When it’s wedged in tight, we’ll pull it out” across the front, it’s been one of my favorites since my brother Hux gave it to me a few Christmases back. Right up there with the “Bearded for her pleasure” one he’d given me the year before.