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I’m pinching the bridge of my nose when I hear a clink on the coffee table in front of me. I look up to see a young man in a black polo with a little floral logo on the right side. He pulls out a tablet and taps and scrolls a few times before looking up at me.
“The family of Gayle Farrow?”
“Yes, I’m her daughter.”
“Sign here, please.” He holds the tablet screen out in front of me and I scribble my signature on the black line with the tip of my index finger. He turns the screen toward him to check it, then nods his head. “Have a nice day, ma’am.”
“Dang,” Warren drawls out the word dramatically as he walks back into the room holding three large to-go coffees in a drink carrier. “You got a secret admirer I don’t know about?”
I know he’s joking around. But I freeze and study his body language anyway. I don’t think he’d be upset if he found out Gage and I had a thing going on. He might even be happy, honestly. They get along so well and act like brothers already from what I’ve seen.
He might not love the fact that he’s been railing me from behind while I scream into the pillow across the hall though. Or the fact that we’re not exactly a “thing” at all, and have no plans of pursuing an actual relationship.
Brothers can be protective. Warren has always been that in his own way. He’s mature and understanding while still looking out for me. I just can’t imagine him leaping for joy if he ever found out his friend was secretly using his sister for orgasms behind his back.
These flowers aren’t from him, though. I’m sure they’re from a family friend or one of my parents’ coworkers. I have nothing to worry about.
He casually hands one of the coffees to Dad, who’s sitting in one of the complimentary massage chairs facing the floor-to-ceiling windows.
I laugh nervously to brush off his sarcastic comment and pick up the card attached to the tall vase of colorful wildflowers. There are stems of golden wheat and a few cream-colored feathers mixed in. It’s a stunning arrangement. I lift the card from the envelope and hold it out in front of me to read.
Mrs. Farrow,
Don’t let your kids convince you that ice cream isn’t the superior recovery food. Get well soon.
-Gage
I hold the card still, staring at it for at least another minute. Warren peeks over my shoulder and reads it for himself.
“It’s a wonder that dude is single. He’s great, don’t you think?”
“I… yeah. He’s pretty great,” I sigh.
He sent my mom a flower arrangement and a card? I shake my head in disbelief.
“Maybe a little sketchy at times though,” he says between sips of coffee. He sits down on the couch. I look at the flowers again, admiring them. Then take a seat next to him.
“Sketchy? What do you mean?”
He leans forward and uses his hand animatedly while he explains. “You know. Like, how did he know where Mom’s surgery was at today?” He raises his eyebrows and juts his chin out like he’s well aware he’s presenting good evidence. “I never told him where it was at or what time.”
I remain as stoic as I can be. He has no idea that I was the one that spilled that information. While wrapped around his naked body, no less.
“I’ve worked with him, lived with him, been friends with him for I don’t even know how long. Somehow I feel like I know nothing about him at all, yet better than anyone else all at once? I know that doesn’t make sense. But you get what I’m saying.”
Join the club. I can’t even remember him telling me his last name for crying out loud. I never expected Gage to spill his guts to me. In fact, I’m glad that he hasn’t. It keeps the barrier between dating and fucking less likely to break like a dam in a flood. I’m fine being in the dark about all the nitty-gritty details.
“I don’t know if I’d call that sketchy. He’s just a private person is all,” I defend him automatically. “Not everyone feels compelled to share their life story.”
“Yeah… it’s a little weird though right?” He’s looking for validation and looks at me like this might actually bother him a little bit.
“Maybe a little,” I reassure him. “But Gage is a good guy, just like you said. The rest of the stuff doesn’t really matter, does it? You can be a good person and a private one at the same time.”
He nods his head and looks out the window, deep in thought.
“He’s been there for me. Saved my ass more times than I deserved. I trust him,” he says. He thinks for another moment and then meets my gaze again. “Before Tripp and Heston came on to work at the ranch, it was just us. It was a lot smaller of an operation then, and we went through a lot together getting that place to where it is today. He’s like a brother to me and I mean it when I say he’s my best friend. But I can’t help but feel like there’s something he’s not telling me.”
I fiddle with the rings on my fingers and my leg involuntarily bounces.
