He hoped he wasn’t one to base all future decisions on one lapse in judgment, it was just that he’d yet to find a woman he cared enough about to flay himself open. Krista was soft and kind. She was the first to withdraw from the party to sit with someone who needed a listening ear. When he asked where she wanted to eat, her answer was always, “You choose,” which he both loved and hated.
She was a path of no resistance, and he’d gladly taken it. Like he would again if given the opportunity. He’d been tagging out of relationships that required effort for over a decade. The fact that he only felt relief each time they left made him feel like a piece of shit, but there it was.
Knuckles rapping on the window of his back door snapped him out of his thought spiral. Country set the frying pan on the stove and flipped the deadbolt to let his brother Polk into the kitchen.
“Morning. Was that Krista I saw peeling out of the driveway?” Polk kicked off his boots and took a seat at the round wooden table in the middle of the kitchen.
“Yep.”
Polk nodded as Country poured them each a cup of coffee. He took the steaming mug and cupped it in his already cold hands if the chapped tips of his fingers were to be believed.
“You want toast or something?” Country asked.
Polk shook his head. “Had an omelette before I came. It's cold as Santa's ball sack out there. I needed something to warm my belly.”
Country chuckled. “Getting all domestic on me, eh?”
“Somebody has to. Since neither of us is going to settle down anytime soon.”
Country popped a piece of sourdough in the toaster. “Speak for yourself.”
Polk shook his head. “Yeah. Things with Krista are going well. That's why I've only seen her car here once in the last two weeks. And the one time she does stay over, she shoots out onto the main road like a fox caught in the chicken coop.”
Country pulled the butter and marmalade from the fridge. “She was so energized by my intense physicality. Couldn't keep her foot off the pedal.”
Polk snorted. “Intense something.” He took a tentative sip of his coffee and smacked his lips. “At least one of us is getting some. The most action I've seen is Old Granny Goat sucking on my earlobe over the fence when I was trying to fix that post Tuesday.”
“She's got a thing for you.” Country waited for the toast to pop, then put it on a plate and slathered it with butter and jam. “Have you broached the topic of distribution with Dad?”
Polk shook his head. “Did I want to spend three hours being lectured like I was seventeen again? Hard pass.”
Country took a bite, and crumbs dropped to the counter. “So you're just going to wait until he finds out?”
“No, I'm going to wait for my older brother to do my dirty work.”
Country grunted. “That right there is why you aren't getting laid. Too passive.”
“Mm. Good strategy. Make me link conversations with Dad to sex. That won’t send me to therapy.”
“You've already got mommy issues. Figured it wouldn't hurt to add that to the pile.”
Polk took a long drink of coffee then stood and set his cup on the counter. “Let's get at ’er, eh? Don't you have that important meeting today?”
“I have a meeting. I don't think it's important.” The night before, he’d gotten an email from a producer at GCBN asking if he’d come to their offices and meet with their Hockey Evening in Canada team. When he’d given them his limited window of availability, they’d scheduled the meeting within minutes.
“And that's why Krista left in a Wile E Coyote dust cloud.” Polk slapped his brother’s shoulder. Country frowned. “You pretend not to care about this, but I see you checking the video views on the Tok.”
Country finished his toast and pulled his toque and coat off the table. “You're right. I should be way more invested in my fifteen seconds of fame.”
“Or maybe you should accept that you have a talent for entertaining. Lean in. Isn’t that what those self-help books say?”
“First of all, I only read one of those books. Second, I’m happy to lean in, but my skills are specific to the ice and the bedroom.”
“I believe one of those is true.” Polk swung the door open, and they exited into the yard.
All it took was a whistle and Licorice was at his side. They spent the morning between the barn, feedlot, and equipment shed working alongside the ranch hands to get the feeding and maintenance finished up a few hours earlier than usual.
Up until an hour ago, Country wasn't sure if he’d attend his not-important meeting at the network. He wasn't sure what they wanted from him, and he was in the middle of the Snowballs’ hockey season.
