Well, it wouldn’t be him. Sure, he looked like an idiot. He’d also had Zoe York’s mouth on him, finally. And now he had a valid excuse to retaliate on one unlucky Donnigan. Hell yeah. He just had to figure out which one of them had pulled this stunt.
With Landon so deep into Ava, it probably wasn’t him. Though technically Gavin and Landon still lived together, Big Brother spent most of his waking hours at work or with the doc. Theo was the more likely culprit. Little Brother hadn’t liked the mohawk haircut he’d woken up to a few weeks ago. Gavin thought Theo had looked edgy, but maybe the hair dye had been overdoing it. But that had been Landon’s prank, turning Theo’s hair Oregon State orange. Gavin’s assist couldn’t count as the actual idea, and from what he knew, Theo still blamed Landon for the prank. Had Theo struck back, but at Gavin instead?
Or had it been Hope, his younger sister, showing off the set of brass balls they all knew she had buried under a sweet smile? Conniving little witch. Hell, it could really be any of them. Ava too. The woman had a wicked sense of humor. After all, she loved Landon, didn’t she?
Two women stopped him to give him kisses on the cheek. He flushed.
“It’s okay, Gavin. So long as you’re not small in other places,” Megan taunted. Considering she knew exactly how not small he was, he felt vindicated.
Her laughter didn’t help though. Before someone else could pity him, he swore and ripped off his shirt, assuaged by the momentary silence around him. Megan clapped, someone else wolf whistled, and Gavin hurried past half the gym while he went in search of a new shirt.
Unfortunately, the spare in his locker had also been tampered with. This saying much more visible—and insulting.I might be small down below, but I have a big heart. Don’t hate me because I’m tiny.
“Oh my God. Theo, Iknowthis is you,” he growled and tossed the shirt right back in the locker. He had so many ideas of what to do to his kid brother that he missed Mac and Shane’s entrance.
“So you’re finally copping to the truth—that you have a small brain. The first step is admitting the problem,” Shane Collins, Mac’s good buddy and a fellow former Marine, shook his head. Shane smiled a lot, had a beautiful wife, and would be the perfect wingman for a night on the town. He’d help draw the ladies, then push them toward Gavin—the confirmed single man. Gavin liked him. Normally.
“Not funny, Collins.” Gavin did his best not to belt the guy. “My family did this.”
Mac grinned. “Seems a little immature for Landon, don’t you think?”
“Who the hell knows? With my family, it could even be my father.”
“Ouch.” Mac shook his head. “Let me grab you a gym T-shirt. You know, the new uniform you’re supposed to wear?”
Gavin forced an innocent expression. “I meant to. But I only have two, and I haven’t done laundry.”
“In what, a month?” Shane snorted. “Nice try.” He turned to Mac. “I told you they hated the shirts.”
“Shut up.” Mac left and returned moments later with a bright-red shirt with bold white letters that saidJameson’s Gym. No doubt about where Gavin worked wearing that thing. He felt like a stop sign with arms when he wore it.
With a sigh, Gavin threw it on. “Is this kid-size or what?” The shirt clung to him like rubber.
“It’s an adult large. Not my fault you’re so big you’re growing out of our leftover stock.”
Shane gave him a knowing once-over. “Still, it’s good promo having a muscle-bound freak wearing your name.”
“Hey.” Gavin frowned.
“Sorry. Muscle-bound idiot with a small brain.” Shane snickered. “Seriously, Gavin, do some laundry. That’s just embarrassing.”
“Good thing you can run fast,” Gavin muttered, having watched Shane eat up the treadmill on more than one occasion.
Mac shook his head. “With a mouth that annoying, he’s constantly outrunning daily beatings—and that’s just from his wife.”
“Please.” Shane no longer seemed so amused. “She loves me.”
“Good thing someone does.”
Mac chuckled. “You know, Shane, maybe you should attend our self-defense classes. You might learn a thing or two.”
“No thanks.” Shane’s glare turned even more unfriendly. “I’ve heard the class is all about watching those big, hunky Donnigans prance around.”
“I’m hunky. Landon’s just big,” Gavin offered, trying to be helpful. “But it’s a good thing Shelby’s taking the class. I consider my prancing a public service.”
“My wife,” Shane emphasized, “has learned a few tricks from you two jarheads, I’ll admit. But I’ll be the one teaching her close combat, understand?”
Gavin held his hands up in surrender, stretching his tiny cotton shirt. With any luck, he’d rip holes in the arms and have an excuse to tear off the sleeves.
