Nash’s warning doesn’t land the way he probably hopes. I’ve got two pair, aces over kings. Not much beats that. I push the chips in. “Call.”
Nash flips his cards over and has the decency to wince. “Sorry, brother.” He reaches over and claps my shoulder before scooping the chips toward him.
“Such a fucking liar.” Ryder rolls his eyes at Nash, pulling the cards toward him for the next shuffle and deal. “Rebecca would be ashamed.”
“Vanessa’s the one who would feel shame at how her husband folded first, Bannon.”
Those two have been bickering since middle school, and I don’t see the cousins stopping anytime soon. Pushing back my chair, I head toward the bar for a refill. Zane joins me, clapping me on the back.
“Good to see you, man. It’s been a minute.”
Zane is a full-time cattle rancher who has his hands full with twin boys and a daughter, so he can’t make poker night every week.
“How’s Capri?”
“Fine, now that the boys are sleeping through the night. How’s Violet holding up in Wildridge?”
“She’s good.”
I was born and raised in Bozeman, Montana, growing up there alongside my cousin Violet and her siblings. Well, until my parents died, anyway. Turns out that Violet is related to Zane’s wife by marriage. Small world.
Zane grabs a handful of chips, tossing one into his mouth. “Saw you at Kaleidoscope the other night. Gorgeous woman, 5’11” or so, dark hair, cocoa skin?”
This conversation’s going nowhere fast. “Your point?”
“You were kissing Bree in the studio vault at Sun Ridge that same day?”
I pour two fingers of whiskey, my jaw clenching. Sometimes living in a small town bites.
Zane waits a beat before proceeding. “No judgment, man. I know you don’t want to be tied down. But be careful where Bree is concerned. She’s family to Nash. Plus, she’s a trust fund baby. Parents own Winthrop Enterprises.”
Holy freakin’ mother of the universe. She’s Bree Winthrop of the Winthrops? I swallow air, my voice thick. “I know Winthrop Enterprises. They own several mills in the Pacific Northwest.”
“Her dad’s the president.” He grabs a handful of pretzels. “They own many companies, including my largest competitor.”
The message sinks in loud and clear. There’s nothing Nash wouldn’t do for his siblings, and Bree has a family that will back her no matter what.
But as we play the next hand, the realization that no one has anything to worry about sinks in with such clarity that I lean back in my chair with a big grin on my face.
Because me and Bree? She’s my endgame. And I don’t give a damn what anybody thinks.
I swing the axe high overhead before slamming it down toward the tree stump. With each strike, the crack in the wooden rings gets wider. Two of my brothers are with me, working out our frustrations instead of letting them own us.
Saturdays at the mill can go one of two ways: easy or fucked. There’s never an in-between. Today was a literal shitshow from the second I stepped foot onto the pavement. Two of our truckswere late from a spill on the highway. Then, a key shipment we were waiting on got diverted, so I spent the morning scrambling to find alternative sources so production doesn’t slow down . To top it off, one of our new guys dropped a full pallet of graded lumber right onto the loading dock, splintering half of it.
My house sits on a couple of acres just outside of Indigo Hills, on what you might call a family compound. My uncle owns several hundred acres at the end of a private road, and over the years he’s sold off parcels to me and my brothers. Gunnar and I each own about twenty acres on the left side of the road; Ford and Brock each own about twenty on the right. We’re spaced far enough apart for privacy, but close enough to help each other out when needed.
Like right now. Gunner and I had a rough morning. We both had to be on site this morning, which is why he’s at the house with me. Ford wants to meet Ladybug, so he got here before us. He brought several toys, a bag of treats, and a plush dog bed because, as irritated as I get at my youngest brother, he loves big.
The sun is still high overhead, sweat pouring down our backs as we chop wood, the fresh scent of pine filling the air. I still have time to finish this, then take a shower before Bree stops by to drop off Ladybug.
It’s been two days since our third incredible kiss. We’ve been flirting a little back and forth via text, but we haven’t discussed our connection. I can be a gentleman, contrary to what my brothers believe.
When Bree comes over, my plan is to ask her out on a date. There’s a jam-making class in town that should be fun. I don’t want to do dinner or drinks. I’m going to do something different, something that makes her brown eyes light up. Battered Bliss Emporium has one tomorrow at 10, and then maybe we can grab a bite after.
With the sun beating down, it’s too hot for shirts. Sweat pours down my back as I heft the axe overhead. Gunner and Brock stopped chopping to plant a new sapling to replace the one we just cut down. Ford is digging a hole while Gunnar carries the young tree on his shoulder toward our youngest brother.
A strange sensation overcomes me, as if I’m being watched. I slam the blade into the ringed wood before turning to my left, where I see Bree and Izzy and Nash’s sister, Hannah, staring at me and my brothers from the driveway.
