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Strolling up to them, Slade nudged his Stetson up and fisted his hands on his hips. “Morning. Now, tell me what gives.”
Jeff, the cut-up of the group, flashed a cheeky grin. “We love working here so much we cut class this morning just to help out during this busy time.”
Keith sighed and rolled his blue eyes. “Knock it off, Jeff. They canceled classes today, and maybe tomorrow, because of a water line bust.”
That, Slade could believe, but it still didn’t explain their early clock-in. “And?” He zeroed in on Evan, the one with attitude oozing out of every pore all the time. The only reason he tolerated his insolence was because he knew the signs of emotional baggage, and the kid carried a butt-load of it. “Evan? You never beat around the bush. Let’s have it.”
“There’s a kegger starting around four at the reservoir,” he stated with a shrug, his hazel gaze direct, as if defying Slade to lecture them.
“Ah, man, why’d you have to go and tell him that,” Jeff whined. Keith and Riley glared at him.
Slade debated his reply. On one hand, he wanted to lecture them, remembering all too well his youth and the lines he and his brothers often skirted when in partying mode. Their father, Casey, left their supervision and discipline up to Wade after their parents’ split. When he did spare time in between women for his sons while they spent summers on the ranch, it was all fun and games. Those early college days, however, were a different story, as with most kids.
Dropping his hands, he strode forward and hefted a bale to his shoulder, saying, “My authority begins and ends on this ranch. I’m not your father.” For some reason, Evan’s shoulders went rigid at that. Ignoring him, Slade swung the bundled hay atop another one. “But I will remind you to be careful, and don’t drink and drive. I’ll fire your ass if you do. If you need a ride, call me, regardless of the time. You should be able to get two loads out to the feeders this morning.”
Reed drove up to the stable and got out of his truck, and Slade lifted a hand to him. “Reed and I will be working out in the fields. You know how to get hold of us.” He pivoted, Chace racing ahead as he joined Reed without waiting for a response. “Hey,” he greeted his brother.
“Morning. They’re early.” Reed nodded toward the hands, giving the dog a quick rear rub.
“Canceled classes and a lake party this afternoon.”
Reed grinned. “Ah, the good old days. I remember them well.”
Slade scoffed as they went into the stable. “Yeah, right. You were already headed toward the straight and narrow your first year when you decided to become a cop.”
“Cops like to party and cut loose. And,” Reed said, opening Apollo’s stall gate, “I’m not a cop anymore.”
“True,” Slade admitted, strolling forward along the wide, concrete aisle separating the two rows of horse stalls. Bandit head-butted him in greeting, the stallion’s black mane sliding along his muscled tan neck. “Hey, boy, ready to ride?”
Reed led Apollo out of the stall holding the reins, eyeing him with a smirk. “If you crooned to the ladies in that voice, they’d fall at your feet.”
“If I wanted a woman to sit at my feet, I’d find one that’s submissive.” He followed Reed out the back way where they tethered the horses at the corral fence and saddled them.
“Speaking of which,” Reed said as he mounted, “you haven’t said if you’re coming to the get-together Thursday. We have a few new members.”
“I’ll try to make it.”
Slade thought the three of them were nuts when they decided to buy the old run-down lodge off the highway at auction and renovate into a nightclub. He only agreed because the upper floor was an ideal space for their private BDSM gatherings. Growing up with a wealthy father whose public philandering constantly landed him in the society pages of the Casper paper taught them the benefits of keeping their personal lives quiet. None of them would deny sowing their wild oats when they were younger, but they took commitments seriously and stayed off the gossip party line. They had their mother and stepfather’s marriage example to thank for showing them the difference between their parents’ views on relationships.
“You need to get out as much as I do after these weeks of putting in long days,” Reed stated, interrupting his thoughts.
He wasn’t opposed to hanging out at Casey’s, the club they’d named after their father, and doing his part in assisting their friend and manager, Jordon Myers. But he was a moody son of a bitch, and he more often than not preferred solitude and quiet to the loud din of a jam-packed room.
“You have Lily now,” Slade pointed out. “Why are you pestering me?”
“I don’t have to nag her. She’s easygoing and sweet, and agrees you should get out more.”
“She is that, and you’re as whipped as Brett,” he returned, scanning the wide-open range for the herd they should be catching sight of any time now.
“Yep, and I love it.” Reed pointed to their right. “There they are.”
Slade experienced one of those rare twinges of envy at hearing the pleasure in Reed’s voice. Almost six months ago, a deranged stalker had set fire to Lily’s house in Eagle’s Nest with her and Reed inside. His brother’s sixth sense and quick actions saved them both and the woman was now incarcerated in a mental facility for violent offenders. Lily’s compassion toward the woman who had believed the lies her husband fed her during their affair made it easy to see why his brother had fallen so hard and fast. He adored her and Allie, Brett’s wife, but even so, he was content with his life now that he’d learned to live with guilt.
Chace ran ahead, and Reed cast him a quick glance. “Race?”
“You’re on.” They took off, neck and neck, their mounts eager for the run.
With his stallion’s hooves pounding the ground, legs stretching and sides heaving, the wind on Slade’s face and sun on his shoulders as he leaned over Bandit’s neck, racing his brother, he thought life didn’t get better than this.
