We dig in, the conversation pausing as we all enjoy the meal. I watch Atlee take her first bite of chicken. The way her eyes close in appreciation, I feel a surge of something warm in my chest. She fits here, I realize, with my family, in this house. The thought should terrify me, but instead, it feels right.
“Oh, Devlin,” Aubree says suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. “I meant to tell you earlier. I saw Deputy Noah Sanchez this morning when I was getting coffee at Murphy’s. He was watching you pretty intently when you left after dropping Atlee off.”
So not only did Atlee see it, but Aubree did too. I freeze mid-bite, my eyes meeting Jesse’s across the table. A silent communication passes between us. We need to talk, but not in front of the women.
“That right?” I say, keeping my tone casual. “Guess I’m just that good looking.”
Aubree rolls her eyes. “I’m serious. It was weird. Like he was waiting for you specifically.”
“Noah’s always had a stick up his ass about the Nelsons,” Jesse says, his voice light but his eyes hard. “Ever since high school, when Devlin here stole his girlfriend.”
“I didn’t steal anyone,” I protest, grateful for the deflection. “She wasn’t happy with him, so she moved on. Not my fault I was the better option.” I don’t mention that she’s the high schoolgirlfriend I assumed would’ve waited for me while I was off fighting for our country.
Atlee raises an eyebrow at me. “Somehow I’m not surprised you were a heartbreaker even then.”
The tension eases as everyone laughs, and the conversation shifts to safer topics. But I can tell from the set of Jesse’s shoulders that he’s as concerned as I am about Noah’s interest in our comings and goings.
After dinner, when the plates are cleared and dessert has been served, Jesse stands, stretching.
“Devlin, why don’t you join me on the porch for a bourbon? The ladies can catch up.”
It’s not really a question, and Atlee seems to sense it. She gives my hand a squeeze under the table. “Go ahead. Aubree and I have plenty to talk about.”
The night air is cool, a hint of the coming winter in its bite. Jesse retrieves a bottle of bourbon and two glasses from a cabinet near the door, pouring us each a generous measure before handing me one.
“Noah,” he says simply, leaning against the porch railing.
“Yeah,” I agree, taking a sip of the amber liquid, feeling it burn its way down my throat. “He’s getting bolder.”
“You think he knows? About the cattle?”
I consider the question carefully. We were careful about the rustling up until a few weeks ago. We made the decision to go legit, but it doesn’t take away all the shit we did before then. Noah has always been more observant than the average deputy, and he did see us the night everything went to hell.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But he’s suspicious, and that’s bad enough.”
Jesse runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I recognize from our childhood. He’s worried. “We need to be careful what we say around others.”
“Agreed.” I take another sip of bourbon. “And if he approaches any of us, we need a plan. Lennon, Atlee’s sister, works for Shawn Cooper. She offered legal help if we ever need it.”
Jesse’s eyebrows shoot up. “She offered? Just like that?”
“Says she owes me for helping Atlee.” I shrug. “I’m not planning on cashing in that chip unless it’s absolutely necessary, but it’s good to have options.”
“If Noah approaches any of us, we call Lennon and request the lawyer,” Jesse says decisively. “No exceptions. We don’t say a word without representation.”
“Agreed,” I say again, raising my glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to staying one step ahead of the law.”
Jesse clinks his glass against mine, but his expression remains serious. “I’m worried about you, Dev.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because you’ve got more to lose now,” he says, nodding toward the house where Atlee sits. “You care about her. That makes you vulnerable.”
I can’t deny it, so I don’t try. “Yeah, I do care about her. But that doesn’t change anything. I mean, you have a shit ton to lose too, motherfucker, unless you don’t think Aubree could be in trouble too?”
“Doesn’t it?” Jesse challenges. “Can you honestly tell me you’re comfortable bringing her into this life? With all its risks?”
The question hits a nerve. I’ve been avoiding thinking about it—about how my feelings for Atlee complicate things, about how I’m putting her in danger just by association if Noah ever finds concrete evidence against us.
