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“I don’t know anyone around here by that name,” Sunny said, his voice careful.
His father waved a hand at him. “Of course, not. I think he’s stationed in Japan. You look like a Seal, so I thought you might know him.”
Sunny’s brow furrowed. “Dad, it’s me, Rafe.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, son. Rafe is a scrawny thing too scared of his own shadow to say boo. You’re a strong young man.”
“Marjorie, who the hell is this? Does he know Ford?”
Sunny turned to see his mother standing in the doorway.
“Mama?”
“He’s been talking about someone named Ford a lot the last few months. I think that must be the name of one of the men he served with. I can’t think of who else it might be because I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Ray, little Ray came home to help us out.”
Ray Sr. snorted. “That boy’s worthless, Marjorie, and you couldn’t even give me a son worthy of the name. Just two more pathetic girls. Trudy’s Ford, now that’s a boy to be proud of.”
Sunny shook his head and left the room, his mother trailing him.
“Rafe, honey, now you see, he ain’t right. I can’t do this on my own—”
“I suggest you sell this house and find an assisted living facility—”
“Rayford Gaskell Junior, how dare you! Your grandaddy built this house—”
“And his son has run the place into the ground. Tell Tina and Bobbi Jean to stay in touch. Don’t call me for him,” he said with an emphatic point toward the living room, “again. I won’t come.”
His mother’s waterworks came right on cue.
“I don’t understand how you can be so ungrateful—”
“Stop,” he ordered, and she did. “You never once in my life stood up for me against that old bastard. I have a new family now. Leave me be, Mama,” he said and without waiting for an answer, he left the house and got into his car, throwing it in gear before he could think too hard about it.
He made it five miles down the road before he pulled over to get his phone out. It took less than ten minutes to book a flight across the country. He drove the rest of the day to get to Atlanta. He turned in his rental car at the airport, boarded his flight, and didn’t give his father another thought.
His life was with his team now. They might not be in the army anymore, but they’d be brothers forever. His home was where they were.
* * *
Three Months later
Sunny glancedaround the bar he sat in and felt even more tension build up in his shoulders. Maybe this weekend had been a mistake. After two solid months of running a ranch, just him and Eagle, they’d finally hired some hands and Eagle got his woman home safe. Hell, even most of their team was here now. Eagle said Cap was on his way and then they’d be complete. Almost. But Chess and Doc were never coming back.
A shudder ran through Sunny at the thought of his two brothers who had lost their lives on that last mission. The one that ended the careers of an entire Ranger team because they couldn’t face it. Their training should have been enough to let them continue on, but once Cap had decided he was done, the rest of them had followed him.
Then the man had disappeared for almost a year. Now, according to Eagle, Cap was going to join them. Together they could help Eagle run this ranch. And maybe now he would have time for things he wanted. The future he’d turned away from at eighteen played out in his head. Looking back, it had been the right choice. If he hadn’t joined the army, he wouldn’t have his brothers. Still, he had his regrets. Maybe once things quieted down, he’d finally take some classes, online or something. He didn’t know if he’d ever do anything with it, but maybe it was worth a try. Seventeen years later, but it was better than never.
He was pretty sure his brothers would understand that working as a ranch hand long term was not what he wanted to do. If they didn’t, then what? Sunny shook his head. This weekend wasn’t the time to think about that.
His phone beeped, distracting him from his thoughts. Checking the message, some of the tension bled out of him. The first thing Sunny had done when he’d decided to drive to Vegas for a weekend away was register with the local BDSM club. He had references from multiple clubs across the globe where he’d played casually on leaves over the years and that had gotten him in atBittersweetthis weekend. He called the number in the text and a cool female voice answered.
“Bittersweet,how may I help you this evening?”
“My name is Rayford Gaskell. I received a message saying I had a meet-up possibility for this weekend.”
He listed as she clicked at the other end of the line. “Hmm, yes I see it, Mr. Gaskell. Though, I’m not sure…”
