“My point remains.” Pulling my legs up under me, I rest my head against the pillows. “Sienna made you a sap.”
“I’m not a fucking sap,” he cuts back. “I’m just saying. Been thinking a lot lately …”
The way his voice trails off hits me right in the heart. My face falls, and I fight the urge to lecture him or mother him in some way. This happens every summer. I think all my siblings start to think of our parents and their accident. It’s the time of year Walker is a bit less cantankerous. Lance drinks a little more. Machlan calls in the middle of the night with philosophical questions that I never can answer.
Before I can figure out what to say, Walker changes the subject.
“Can I ask you for a favor? Well, not for me, but for Sienna?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“Can you meet up with one of her brothers and pick up some paperwork or some shit?” The sound of metal crashing onto a hard surface ricochets through the line. “Fuck!”
I laugh. “What are you doing?”
“Come finish this before I stick a fucking wrench in it!” The line gets muffled before he comes back. “I was trying to take an oil filter off a tractor, but it’s stuck. God knows I’m not gonna get any help with it either. I just shouted for someone to come finish it, but it’ll be there a day from now if I don’t circle back to it.”
“Hey, it’s job security,” I say through a laugh.
He chuckles as the sound of water in the background trickles through the phone. “Anyway, can you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Meet with one of Sienna’s brothers?”
Something about the way he says “brothers” takes me back to the man at the airport today. He was devilishly handsome in his business suit with a Rolex strapped around a thick, muscled wrist. He spoke well and seemed educated, which were bonus points to his light-colored hair and jade eyes.
The problem? I see men like him every day. My office is full of them. That controlled, alpha vibe stops being attractive when you peel off the suit.They’re just like other men—overgrown children who want a woman to fight for them.
And fight for herself.
Because if she doesn’t fight for herself, no one is going to fight for her.
“I’m not sure what my schedule looks like,” I say for the second time today.
“You don’t have a fucking schedule. I made your schedule.”
“I’ll happily refund your money and come home.”
“The hell you will.” He sighs. “It won’t kill you to do her this one favor.”
“For what? So, you can get laid?”
“I’ll get laid regardless …”
“Ew!” I say, getting to my feet. “How did we get here? I don’t want to talk about this.”
“I’ll text you the address, okay?” Walker asks.
Moseying across the sage-colored carpeting, I gaze across the water. Families are holding hands, letting the waves rock against them. I wish I could do that—just throw all caution to the wind and let my guard down. But I can’t. Or if I was like that, I’m not anymore.
“Fine,” I say finally. “But tell Sienna she owes me blueberry muffins when you pick me up from the airport.”
“Will do. Talk to you soon, Blaire.”
“Bye.”
The line goes dead as he shouts at our cousin again.
