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Actually, I was happy to see that Sully was managing to get him wrapped up in his stupid shenanigans. It reminded me a bit of the old Finn.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I agreed. I mean, it would be hypocritical of me to say there was anything wrong with a woman who wanted to kill someone who’d wronged her. I’d killed. Would do it again. Hell, Finn’s sister was literally a serial killer of human traffickers. Our aunts and moms, most of them had bodies to their name too.
“Offer still stands if you need help around there,” he said, his gaze moving toward the back of the yard where several girls were hooting.
It sounded like the men were taking their turns on the slide.
“I appreciate it. Go on. Have fun. I’m having another slice then heading home,” I told him.
He didn’t waste any time, nearly barreling into Sutton as he made his way out.
Sutton stopped to watch him go, then nodded as he turned to look at me.
“Good to see him not so low,” he said.
“Yeah,” I agreed, surprised that Sutton even noticed that about Finn since he didn’t know him before. “You’re not interested in licking whipped cream off of a club girl?” I asked.
To that, he let out a dry laugh.
“I caught my girl coming in the door,” he said, shrugging. “Don’t need to play party games to have a good time with a woman.”
That was fair.
Though I suspected his decision had less to do with not liking party games and more to do with trying to avoid Sully.
“You’re not participating?” he asked, waving toward the door as he glanced at the pizza boxes, likely trying to debate if he wanted to indulge.
Sutton wasn’t as strict about his diet as Cary was, but he cared about what he put in his body, and how often he moved said body. Meaning daily. Sometimes more than that.
“First day at the range,” I explained. “Just want some food and sleep.”
“Get that,” Sutton agreed. “Can’t imagine wanting to yuk it up after a long day on the ranch.”
Right.
Yeah.
I kept forgetting that Sutton had left a whole life behind him in Texas. Namely, a family ranch. Full of animals and fields that needed tending. All that shit.
“Well, at least not every night like it is here,” he conceded with a grin.
“After a decade or so, it does start to lose its appeal a bit,” I admitted.
“Yeah, imagine that’s true. Especially with all your buddies shacking up and having wives and kids.”
There was that, yeah.
And, as much as I wouldn’t admit it, there was a sense of jealousy in me that I wouldn’t have expected.
The fact of the matter had always been, though, that I knew I wanted a family from a young age. It was easy to make those sorts of decisions when you had this giant extended family like we did. You learned real early if kids were something you saw in your future. And I did. I had always liked helping one of the younger kids feel confident enough to go without their training wheels for the first time, or figure out how to throw a curveball, or get the ball in the hoop.
All the shit I had fond memories of my old man showing me when I was young.
I wanted, one day, to be able to do all those things with my own kids.
And as the years kept ticking by, and all my buddies who had never been as sure about wives and kids started families while I stayed single, yeah, it got to me sometimes.
That was why I’d focused so much on opening the range, on getting a house and fixing it up to my liking.
Distractions, but also solid foundations for the future I hoped to have.
“If you need help around the range…” Sutton said, letting the sentence hang.
And aside from Finn, Sutton was someone I would consider tapping in if I needed a day off.
“I appreciate it,” I said, nodding. “I’m sure I will take you up on that someday,” I told him as he finally gave in and grabbed a slice.
“Hey,” a female voice called, making us both turn, and there was a pretty girl in what had to be Sutton’s shirt, given the way she was eye-fucking him. “Round two?” she asked, smile wicked, then turned and walked away, knowing she didn’t have to ask twice. Not when she was that pretty.
“Duty calls,” he said, taking another bite of the pizza, then tossing the rest.
Before anyone else could catch me in a conversation, I headed out through the front, driving home, and crashing hard, waking up late, then rushing through my routine to get to the range on time.
As it was, I was two minutes late.
Amos’s black SUV was in the lot.
As was a beat-up old sedan in a hideous mustard green color.
