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“Oh, guess you didn’t die from sex overload,” he jokes, checking his watch.
I look up at the clock over the door. “I’m five minutes late.”
“Which still makes you late and now behind,” Fisher says, and I glance over, rolling my eyes. Nothing they say will spoil my good mood this morning. Life is too fucking perfect.
“I’ve already fed the animals,” Diesel says.
“Your hustle’s been quite impressive lately,” Fisher tells him, and I nearly die of a stroke that he gave Diesel a compliment. It’s kinda scary how they’re getting along. Maybe they’ve turned a new leaf, or maybe Diesel’s more concerned with Rowan dating an older man and has forgotten about Fisher stealing Gretchen. Though I don’t really want him thinking about my little sister either.
“Grandma said she wanted a new garden shed built for all of Mila’s tools. Right now, she’s keeping them in the barn with all the side-by-sides, and it’s becoming too crowded.”
Diesel huffs, crossing his arms. “A few shovels don’t take up that much space.”
“She has eighteen bags of fertilizer and forty bags of soil, six shovels, a cart, three wheelbarrows, and a dozen water hoses,” Fisher corrects.
“Fuck. She’s serious about this gardening, isn’t she?” Diesel eyes go wide. “I had no idea.”
Fisher gives us the plans for the building, and I study it. “I think we can have it framed by this afternoon.”
Diesel looks over my shoulder. “We’re pouring concrete for this? Seriously?”
“It won’t be that bad,” I encourage, though I can tell he’s already in one of his moods. Fisher sends us on our way, and we start loading the supplies in the back of the old work truck—hand mixers, a dozen bags of cement, and extra shovels.
“You survive last night after I left the show?” I ask him as we drive across the ranch.
He looks at me with a lifted eyebrow. “I should be asking you the same thing.”
I chuckle. “I survived just fine.”
“I want to bash that Trace guy’s head in. What the actual fuck?” Diesel is livid all over again, and I can feel my blood pressure rising at the thought of it.
“I want him to stay away from her,” I admit as we pull up to the garden. The area where Mila wants the shed is already staked out, so it makes our job a lot easier.
Diesel continues talking shit about this Trace guy as we start unloading everything. “He’s too fucking old for her and knows exactly what he’s doing with a girl that young. I don’t want her to get taken advantage of,” Diesel admits. “Because then I’ll have to bash his ugly face in.”
“Spoken like a second older brother,” I tell him, chuckling.
He stiffens, then changes the subject. “Has Zoey made up her mind yet? I imagine you two didn’t do a whole lot of talking last night.” He sets the bags of cement down and then pulls out the mixer.
I want to scream out so everyone can hear the good news, but I somehow contain my excitement. My smile’s so wide it nearly hurts. “Yeah, she’s decided to stay and be my wife. We’re gonna make it work for the long haul.”
“You’re welcome,” Diesel says proudly. “If it weren’t for me…”
“Oh, don’t even give me that bullshit. But since it worked out, I guess I can thank you now.” I snicker. Grabbing the two-by-fours, I check the specs Fisher gave me this morning, then remeasure our cuts before we build the form for the concrete slab. After everything is set, Diesel and I nearly break our backs mixing the crushed rock and water.
“So I get to name your first kid, right?” he teases. “Wait, does she want to have kids? A boy named Adam?”
I laugh. “Yeah, she does eventually. I’d seriously have a million babies with that woman.” Hell, I’d knock her up now if she were ready. Imagining her carrying my child with a cute round belly makes my cock twitch.
“Maybe I should dare you to get her pregnant now.” He smirks. I wouldn’t put it past him, though. The asshole.
“I still owe you one first,” I remind him. Smirking, I remember all the stories my uncles have told me about how their dares got them into a ton of trouble growing up. Specifically uncle Jackson. “Maybe I’ll dare you to stay away from my sister for good,” I threaten. “Or maybe dare you to go find that Chelsea chick. Have you even called her since Vegas?”
“What the hell? How’d we get on this subject?” He grunts. “Whatever dare you pick better be mild, considering you got the girl.”
Checking the time, I realize it’s a quarter past nine and text Zoey; however, I bet she’s still asleep. We didn’t get much rest last night. I mentioned we should meet for lunch at the B&B and to keep an hour free afterward. As long as we can get this framing done today, Diesel won’t mind the unplanned break.
