Page 8 of Smoking Gun


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I sniffle and nod my head.

“Let’s get out of here. Classes are over, you’ve graduated, and programs around the country will still be knocking down your door in a few weeks to offer you a residency position.” Her hug tightens as she tries to convince me that what I swore I didn’t have time to do is actually what Ishouldbe doing. Going home.

“You’re the best. And that’s not going to change if you go home and take a little break. I don’t have to work this weekend,” she goes on, “so I’ll go with you for a few days. It’ll be fun!”

She’s never steered me wrong, and I’ve backed myself into a corner this time with no choice but to follow her sound advice.

“These sheets are itchy,” I whine and we both break out into a belly laugh. This conversation is too serious and emotional and I had to break the tension somehow. Then, I pull back to look her in the eye. “Alright,” I whisper. “I’ll go.”

Chapter 5

Gage

“You can’t miss it. You’ll see the big hanging sign over the cattle guard on the side of the road. Turn your camera around. Let me see where you are,” Warren says from where he sits on the arm of the couch in the bunkhouse living room. He brings his phone screen closer to his face, trying to see better.

It looks like he’s on FaceTime and judging by the giggles and pop music coming from the other end of the call, he’s got girls coming over. Fantastic.

“There! Turn there!” he stands up and shouts.

“I know where it’s at dummy. I grew up down the road, remember?” a female voice says through the phone.

Grew up here? Who is he talking to? I keep listening in on his conversation but don’t bother looking up from the computer. I have too much data to enter into this spreadsheet to be worrying about what girl Warren’s got on the roster.

“Right. Did you stop by Mom and Dad’s?”

“Yes. They sent a huge loaf of bread. It smells amazing and I might have taken a few bites already,” she laughs.

A smooth, sultry, incredible laugh. I smile to myself then shake my head back and forth to right my expression. Cracking my knuckles, I try to focus back on what’s on my laptop and not whoever is on the phone.

Focus is hard to come by around here. The bunkhouse is more like a madhouse most of the time. Myself, Warren, Tripp, and Heston all live here. But other guys that work at the ranch part-time come over quite a bit as well, sometimes for breakfast or just to hang out. Not to mention the girls Warren and Tripp always have over.

I could tell them to stop having girls over. They’d respect it if I made it a rule. It’s annoying when there are articles of girls’ clothes strewn down the hallway or I have to pound on their door to get their asses to work instead of laying in bed with a naked chick all morning.

It’s not too bad though. Especially with Tripp. He usually kicks them out before they fall asleep anyway. At the end of the day, the friend in me is happy to see they’re having a good time.

I haven’t felt a connection to anyone enough to bring them home in… well, almost ever. I’ve had plenty of hookups over the years. But with strict rules and never here at the ranch where I live.

I’m not jealous of my friends enough to cock block them though.

“We’ll be there in a minute, I can see the lights at the barn up ahead! We’re hanging up now, bye!” A different female voice sounds through the phone.

I hear the tone signaling the FaceTime ending and against my better judgment, decide to pry a little.

“Big plans?” I smirk knowing he’s always got big plans.

“About that…” Warren runs a hand through his dark blonde almost brown hair, and gives me the look he always uses when he’s about to ask for forgiveness instead of permission. My eyes narrow.

He looks back and forth between me and the front door. “My sister and her friend flew into town and they’re planning to stay.”

“Okay?” I question.

“Here.”

“Here as in Westridge?”

“Here as in,” he clears his throat. “The bunkhouse.”

“Uh…”

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