Page 3 of Their Juicy Woman


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Shawn didn’t say anything. Casey was a bit of a player; he loved the women, and they loved him as well.

Many times, he’d caught Casey with some girl in the barn. None of the girls seemed to mind that he didn’t want anything but a good screw from them.

“Is this about Poppy?” he asked.

“Last time he came, he made her cry,” Shawn said.

“It’s still Poppy?”

“It will always be Poppy. She’s my best friend.”

“And if it doesn’t work out, what then, Shawn?”

He glared at his brother and headed up the hill, away from him. Casey was following him though. He always did, and it was driving him insane.

“I get that you don’t like her, but I do.”

“There’s no problem liking her, Shawn. Just be the friend that means she can cry on your shoulder.”

“I love her,” Shawn said.

“I know you do.”

“I want to marry her.”

“Really? You’re sixteen.”

“I don’t care. I love her. I want to marry her. I’m going to marry her.”

“Okay, then.” Casey held his hands up. “Whatever you say.”

At that moment, he heard his mother’s laughter, and he glanced toward the barn in time to see Bruce, one of his fathers, catch her around the waist. Seconds later, Elijah, his second father, was there. He watched his parents as they all laughed, both of his dads kissing his mother. The love among them was so absolute. They’d been the talk of the town for years, but it hadn’t stopped any of them from loving each other.

His mother always held her head high, and she didn’t take crap from any one.

“Do you think we’ll be like them?” Shawn asked.

Casey glanced at their parents. “Do you see us sharing a girl? We can’t even share a pie.” Casey ruffled his head. “Come on, you big girl. Let’s get you some chocolate ice cream to mourn your girl.”

****

Two years later

Today was Poppy’s eighteenth birthday, and as a gift, the doctors had diagnosed her mother with cancer. She sat at the Smiths’ lake and just stared at the water. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she felt sick to her stomach. They had to do a lot more tests to determine how fierce the cancer was, and then they had to see if it had spread. Breast cancer, and there was a survival rate, but it all depended on how far it had gone.

“Is that any way for you to be on your birthday?” Casey said, startling her as he walked up behind.

She didn’t look back at him, not right now. The pain was too raw, and she didn’t want him to see her as vulnerable.

He didn’t take the hint and leave her alone.

Casey sat down next to her, and then she noticed he held a box in his hand. “I bought this for you. Happy Birthday, Pop.”

She smiled at his little nickname for her. Staring at the box, she wondered if she could just pause in that moment and not move.

Seconds passed, and feeling rude, she took the box from him and stared at it.

“Normal people open it.”

Tearing into the wrapping, she turned the box over and was surprised to see a velvet case. Opening it up, she saw a silver cross necklace nestled in the fabric. It was stunning, and she’d been admiring it at the mall several months ago for Christmas.

“This is beautiful,” she said.

“I saw how you were giving it the eye. I swear if it was a guy he’d have been all over you.”

She chuckled. Casey was always telling her that she could have any guy she wanted. A few years ago, she had decided she didn’t want to be like other women chasing after the Smith brothers. Now, she just wanted to be their friend. They were attractive men, and she loved them all differently, and that in itself was wrong. She couldn’t love three men.

Shawn would always be her best friend. Parker and Casey would have to be like brothers, even though she didn’t even think anything remotely “sibling” toward them.

Casey took the necklace from her and placed it around her neck. She was aware of his knuckles as they brushed her flesh, but she ignored that awareness of him.

Each brother had a way about him that called to her heart. She hadn’t given anything away, and she never would. One day they’d settle down with wives or one wife, and she’d learn to deal with that kind of pain.

“My mom has cancer,” she said, speaking the words aloud.

“I know. She called a little while ago. I knew you’d be here. This is the one place you’ve always come to help you think.”

Just hearing that he knew her in some way, helped.

“Hey, beautiful, and evil one,” Parker said as he joined them. “Happy birthday, Poppy.” He held a present in front of her. It was long and rectangular.

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