There's always a little corner of my mind, a littlewhat would Renée do, but even that's gone silent. She's given her opinion. Now she's going to make me figure it out on my own.
Fuck.
17
JOAQUIN
It’s been a few days since Warwick went a little crazy and started talking to himself on the sun deck. My son said that he sometimes got into conversations with Renée after she died, like it was his way of working it out in his head.
It is good to see that he’s definitely affected by our togetherness, but I don’t actually want to hurt him. Colt and I decide not to poke him too much for now.
Today, Wick, Trip, Sebastián, and I are going to the Wills ranch with our first delivery of horses. Sebastián is excited because Trip hired him for the training, and their collaboration has been fun and supportive for both of them.
I look over at Trip as we all disembark, and his easy smile tells me that things at the ranch and in his home life are going well. I know I'm not his family or anything, but I feel a swell of pride regardless.
“Charlie!” Trip says, jogging over to his friend.
Sebastián first met the Wills family a long time ago, closer to when he started working for the Goodnights. According to my son, Trip has always been all cowboy, even when he was a gangly teenager. Charlie, on the other hand, was always a shy wisp of a thing.
Sebastián whistles under his breath. “Puberty and time were kind to him.”
The man before us is certainly not a wisp of anything. He somehow feels both gentle and beastly, like one of those preternaturally calm monks who could kick your ass if they wanted to. He’s not super tall or broad, but anyone with half an eye for such things can read the kinetic energy stored within him.
Beyond that, he’s a gorgeous man with dark blond hair, striking eyes, and a trimmed beard that highlights a square jaw.
“Trip, Sparrow. Been a while. I have no idea what the hell I'm doing here,” he says, laughing, eyes falling to the ring on Trip’s finger. His brows stitch together for a second before he smiles up at Trip again.
“Well, you've got a nice start to your setup for somebody who doesn't know what he's doing,” Trip says, pulling Charlie in for a warm hug.
Charlie returns the hug, then steps back, grimace-smiling. “I’ll be honest—I might’ve bitten off more than I can chew.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Trip says, gripping the man’s shoulder. “And you know that me and Sparrow are here to help you with anything you need.”
The three young men share a look that I can't quite read, but I can’t help but wonder if it has to do with the night that Trip and his family spent in the ER with Charlie’s parents, hoping he'd survive his suicide attempt.
It's clear the man has more than survived, but Trip knows as much as anybody that everything leaves its scars.
“Yeah, with my dad retired, my parents didn't want to manage this property anymore, and they wanted me to take over.”
“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?” Trip asks as we all survey the property.
He toes the dirt, out of character from the rest of his persona. “Don’t know if you’d call it a plan, but I think I can do some good in the community.”
Trip nods. “Sounds good. What were you doing up north?”
His smile is enigmatic. “Little of this, little of that. Sometimes consulted with law enforcement.”
Trip seems to pick up on the fact that he’s not meant to query too much, so he turns to Wick and me. “Sorry, meant to introduce you. This is my foreman, Joaquin, and right-hand guy, Warwick.”
Charlie grins at us. “Hi, sorry. Was so happy to see a familiar face that I skipped the introductions. I’m Charlie Wills. We’ll get going in a second. I’m just catching up with Trip and…Sparrow’s your son, right?”
I nod, my smile a little proud. “Yes, he is. It sounds like you three have some catching up to do. If you have someone who can tell us where to go, Wick and I can unload the horses for you.”
I touch Wick’s arm as I say this, and he startles at the contact, his eyes darting from my hand to my face, the heat in his expression unmistakable.
I have to bite back a laugh. The man’s got no fucking chance against Colt and me.
“Yeah?” he manages.
