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Women who wouldn’t call him sweet.
And if they called him daddy it would be in an entirely different context than the one he’d been thinking of the word in lately.
And he would be fine with it.
“Great. Well. See you at dinner.”
“See you.”
And the rest of the day passed pretty quickly. At least he wasn’t chasing down horses.
And when he and his brothers went back to the main ranch house, he was...blown away by how clean the place was. And it felt...different. Warm. There was a candle lit. On the coffee table in the living room. There were pieces of fabric draped over things. Making it all soft and...different. Some extra lamps. Light.
“Wow,” Tag said, looking around. “This is...different.”
For some reason, Tag using the same word he’d just thought irritated him.
“Oh, Gus.” His sister-in-law Nelly looked at him with big liquid eyes. “This is so wonderful.”
They were treating him like he was a small child who had done something amazing, and he hated it. Because yeah, as far as they were all concerned, getting a woman to come live with him probably was amazing. Even if they knew the circumstances behind it.
“Damn,” Hunter said, coming in with Elsie.
“Wow,” said Lach and Brody at the same time.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s clean. Be bigger dicks about it, all of you.”
“Sorry,” Tag said.
Hunter, Brody and Lachlan said nothing of the sort.
“It smells great too,” Brody said, walking into the kitchen. And then he grinned. “Now, that is a sight for sore eyes. Gus, did you know such a pretty woman was in your kitchen?”
Gus came in behind Brody and stood just close enough for his brother to feel his presence. “Don’t flirt with my wife, dumbass.”
Alaina scrunched her face and laughed.
“Oh, Gus,” she said. “Be nice.”
And everybody piled in around him, and he felt decidedly disgruntled.
There was a huge pot of spaghetti on the table, a steaming red pot with sauce and meatballs, Parmesan cheese and garlic bread. There was also a green salad. And it really was just...
“Perfect.”
His eyes had drifted to Alaina, and he hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud. But there she was, standing in front of the window in the dining area, the light illuminating that red hair of hers. Making her look like she was on fire. And she was just the damn prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
And his brothers, who had their women, were sitting next to them at the table, touching them. Casually. Like it was just another day. Another moment. Like any other. And he had to stand back from his wife. Because he wasn’t the same. Because they weren’t the same.
Why is that?
He gritted his teeth. It was because he didn’t need to enter into some kind of transaction with her. Because the distance was necessary. Because he had offered this, and he couldn’t go making it seem like he needed sex in return.
Martyr.
He called himself a lot of things. He told himself a lot of stories.
He was honest. That was the thing. He didn’t bullshit. He knew what he was. That was...that was part of being a man, accepting all that.
