I slap the steering wheel hard, shaking my head in frustration, wondering why Maggie would do something like that to disappoint her father.
I know I’m acting ridiculous. It isn’t my place to care. She’s always been just a kid to me—the babysitter for my nieces and nephews and fifteen years younger. I’d made sure to drive that point home last summer, like an asshole, when she’d finally mustered the courage to tell me she thought I was handsome. It was just a simple compliment, but I’d seen the way she’d observed me over the years, and I wanted to shut it down, stop her young imagination from running wild.
I shake my head, trying to erase the sad look on her face from my memory when I did my best to gently let her down that summer.
But damn if she hasn’t grown up.
And damn if I’m not a man who had taken a second and third look at her in that tiny sundress today.
She is forbidden to me. Not only is she closer in age to my feral nephews, the little thirteen-year-old monsters who I’d lay down my life for, but are consistently fucking up just about everything they can possibly get their hands on at Ashwood ranch, but she’s also my new boss’s daughter, and Lonestar Junction’s sweetheart.
If I remember correctly, I think she’d wonLittle Miss LonestarJuniorat the town’s fair four years ago.
Definitely not going there.
My attention thankfully shifts as I pull into Ashwood ranch’s driveway, ready to help my brother with his list of tasks that the employees we pay to do have messed up.
After three hours of non-stop hard, manual labor, six in the evening has rolled around. I’m mentally and physically exhausted, and hungry after the long day I’ve had juggling both jobs.
“Are you staying for dinner tonight?” Nash asks.
“I think it’s the least you can do to repay me for all of the free manual labor I’ve just done for you.”
Nash chuckles, slapping me on the back as he guides me into the rancher. His wife, my sister-in-law and friend Jovie, has made a hearty meal of pork roast and green beans with enough food to feed a small army though I guess with twin, teenage boys, it probably feels like she’s feeding a fleet most days.
“What’s up, shithead?” my nephew, Cody Cameron—better known as ’Twin A’—greets me as I enter the dining room. He is already at the table, halfway through his dinner, still in hismiddle school football jersey, tearing into his meal like he hasn’t eaten in days.
“Hey Twin-A. How’s school going? Staying out of trouble?”
He shrugs, “School’s alright. Football is fun.”
“He means he’s failing Algebra, and he likes the attention he gets from the girls by being the star quarterback,” his twin, Wilder Cameron, also now as ′Twin B,′responds.
“Does the obsession with girls’ attention really start this young?” I ask Nash who’s just entered the room, catching the tail end of the conversation.
“You’d be surprised how soon a lot of weird teenage stuff starts.”
I laugh while the twins groan and roll their eyes at their dad.
“Would you like wine or beer with dinner?” Jovie asks.
At only forty-two years old, she’s still one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. We’ve shared a special bond from the moment we’d met, likely because I was the only Cameron who hadn’t given her a hard time when she moved down to Lonestar Junction, trying to find her footing in the ranching world and take control of her grandfather’s property. I believed in her and took a focused interest in helping her get up to speed at Ashwood Ranch and supporting her and Nash’s relationship as it developed along the way. She’d repaid me with unwavering friendship and an ear to listen, something I’ve come to rely on over the past few years.
“No thanks. I haven’t felt like drinking much lately,” I respond.
Nash raises a brow but remains silent. He’s never been one to instigate or pry, unlike my oldest brother Wylie, though I know inside he’s dying to ask what has suddenly caused me to sober up. Especially since the last few years have revolved around me stumbling into his house every night, black out and half naked.
“Well, change is good,” Jovie says taking a seat with a gentle smile.
“Is change good, or do we just tell ourselves that in order to appease the fact that we have no choice but to change in the face of challenges?” Wilder asks.
Jovie smiles at her son, “I think you might have a point. But embracing the fact that change, even when it feels bad or hard, can work for our good, is more of a mindset shift than anything.”
He sighs deeply and I wonder what couldpossiblybe burdening a thirteen-year-old who has zero worries, bills and knows nothing about serious heart break.
“So how are things going with the Fire Department?” Jovie asks.
“And when are you quitting and coming back to manage Ashwood for me again?” Nash interjects.
