“Yeah, Maddie. You think you’d remember the name of the gal who asked you for birthday spankings a couple months ago,” Colt teased. I tipped the bottom of his bottle up when he went to take the next swig, making it dribble down his chin like he’d just learned how to drink. It didn’t phase him, but then again, nothing ever did. Nothing ever made him grow the fuck up, not even for a second. When I was his age, I was running an entire ranch on my own.
“She was drunk as fuck,” I grumble as he pulls up the bottom of his shirt to wipe his chin, flashing his abs and a new tattoo on his side. “She had to be carried out of the bar that night. Probably thought she was talking to one of the ranch hands.”
Jameson hid his smirk behind the neck of his bottle. He wouldn’t say it, but we were both thinking it. She had to be carried out of the bar, but I didn’t have to be the one who did it.
I had, though—carried her out of the bar and straight to my pickup before someone I didn’t trust could do it. I held the rat’s nest she calls hair with one hand and drove with the other while she upchucked out the window and down the side of my truck. I’d even been nice enough to plop her down in bed with Kenny instead of taking her back to her dad’s. My sister had dipped out on her best friend’s party early since she had to go to class the next day, but I’d promised one of us would make sure Austin got home safe.
I’d stopped seeing Austin as a kid that night and it had a lot to do with the way she’d drunkenly pressed her body up against mine on the dance floor and made the very request Colt was going on about. We’d all danced with her that night, but she didn’t ask any of the others to spank her.
Granted, she hadn’t been a kid in a long time, four years legally, but the ten years I had on her and her friendship with my little sister hadn’t helped.
“You should probably take her up on it,” Jameson added, teaming up with Colt, pulling me from my thoughts and my eyes from Austin’s ass. It wasn’t until I had to tear my eyes awayto look at Jamie that I even realized I’d been staring at her in the first place. I took another sip of my beer to ignore how wide his smile had grown. It was the only one I could have tonight since I was driving. “Mama’s gonna go crazy if she doesn't get a grandkid out of one of us soon.”
“She’s got Callie,” I said, gesturing with the rim of my bottle to Theo. Theo snorts and rolls his eyes, but grins after. He always seems so happily surprised when we treat Callie like part of the family. “Besides, the only one of us with any chance in hell of making that happen for her is Tatum, and that’s only if she can get her head out of her ass long enough to realize Tyler thinks she hung the moon.”
“I can’t believe he still follows her around like a lost little puppy,” Colt says, a wry grin on his face. “I always forget how whipped he is till I’m home to see it for a while.”
Jamie’s eyes cut over to me and I know he hears the opening Colt gave me as well, wondering if I’ll take it. I want to tell Colt he wouldn’t have an issue remembering what goes on around the ranch if he came home more often, but we’re having a good night and there’s no sense in bringing down the mood.
“Nah, it’s not you. Hehasbeen worse lately. I think he’s getting restless waiting on her. If he wasn’t such a good worker—when heisworking—I’d fire his ass for how often I’ve gotta go looking for him. It's always easier to just text Tate and ask where she’s at.”
Colt laughs, but Jamie agrees with me. “Shit, I always call before going to look for them. I’m half-scared I’m gonna end up walking in on them one day and find out they’ve been going at it like rabbits for years and fooling us all.”
My lip curls at the thought. I’m not some idiot that thinks his little sisters should stay virgins until they’re forty or anything like that, but I still don’t really want to think of them ‘going at it like rabbits’ with anyone.
“Well, that’s the first step to getting Mama a grandkid andgetting her off the rest of our asses, so if they are, I support it,” Colt says, which doesn’t improve my mood in the slightest.
“Too bad Bailey and Chase broke up. They would’ve definitely had one by now,” Theo says and my jaw clenches.
“Cheating dickhead,” Colt grumbles, still taking his twin’s heartbreak personally even though it’s been five years. Sometimes I wonder if he knows the whole story, but it’s not my place to tell him. I promised Bails I’d take it to the grave.
TWO
AUSTIN
Rowdy isn’ta strong enough word to describe Colton Whittaker and it never has been. He takes rowdy a step too far every time. I keep one eye on that table the whole night, and for once, it’s not because I want a ride on my best friend’s older brother’s mustache.
Four beers in, Travis Whittaker and his girlfriend Presley show up to drink with his cousins, adding insult to fucking injury because Colt is bad enough on his own. Throw Travis into the mix and it doesn’t matter how many sane-minded people there are in this bar as a buffer, there’s no way this night isn’t ending with a bar fight.
Presley walks up and I can’t help but raise a brow. What kind of man sends his girlfriend to the bar to get the drinks instead of coming up himself? When my eyes flit over to the Whittaker table, I notice I’m not the only one with this thought. Jameson’s watching over Presley with a set jaw.
“Two Coors?” I ask, already reaching for them.
Presley nods, pulling her jacket tighter across her front and crossing her arms over it. She looks back at the table over her shoulder, a bit of her blonde hair falling out of her ponytail with the movement.
“You good?” I ask, getting cagey vibes from her. She seems like she’d rather be anywhere but here.
Her head whips back around, eyes wider when she pastes a fake smile on her face and nods. “Yeah. I didn't really wanna come out tonight, but Travis wanted to see Colt before he leaves for the circuit this weekend,” she explains, checking over her shoulder again.
I don’t try to hide how unimpressed I am by that. “Doesn’t that mean you’ll be leaving soon, too? You and Colt typically have pretty similar schedules, don’t you?”
I pop the tops off the two bottles just as Travis looks over at us and whistles for Presley.
Whistles.
Like she’s a dog.
I can’t fucking stand that.
