“Not even Axel,” I said, because they’d become super tight the past couple of years.
Flynn drew a cross over his heart with a finger as we made our way to the two dirt bikes parked just outside. We’d built a house just beyond Axel and Dalton’s two years ago, and it was a bit of a walk.
I kick-started the motor, and Flynn did the same beside me, and we jolted over bumpy ground toward our cute little bungalow.
There was already a collection of bikes leaning against the back fence. We were late for dinner with my brothers. Oops.
Flynn opened the gate, and I went through first. Sugar trotted up, tongue lolling out, to greet me. Loki and Oreo both raced toward Flynn, bouncing around excitedly.
Flynn crouched down to give them love. Ever since his days spent working at the junkyard, he’d been one of the dogs’ favorite people.
“Finally,” Axel complained. “I thought maybe you ditched us to fuck in the shop.”
Flynn and I exchanged a look.
“You did!” Axel crowed.
“Did not!”
Just almost.
I jogged across the yard. “I got caught up on a paint job. Flynn had to yank me out of the zone. I can order pizza or pick up takeout or something?”
“I already fired up the grill,” Dalton said. “Don’t worry about it.”
He stood at a big gas grill in the center of a stone paver patio that connected our house to his. We’d created a huge outdoor cooking and eating space between them because Dalton loved to grill.
He’d do it year-round when we let him, which was why we also had a big fire pit, but today, the weather was mild, just a hint of breeze, even though it was already early November.
A big octagonal picnic table sat in the center of the patio, with seating for eight people. Axel was setting out plates and silverware with a little help from Emory.
“It was our turn to cook,” Flynn said. “Sorry.”
Dalton waved a spatula. “No worries. I had some great steaks to throw on. Just pick up a night for me sometime when work keeps me out late.”
“All right,” Flynn said, “you got it.”
Holden and Shiloh emerged from the back door of the house with a few extra beer bottles. Holden passed one to me and Flynn.
“Still feels weird to give you beer,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m twenty-five.”
“Still the baby, though,” Shiloh teased.
I sighed dramatically. There was no escaping being the youngest child. My family would always treat me like a little brother.
Holden had eased up a lot, letting me make my own decisions when I pursued a certification in auto restoration, and he’d taken my ideas seriously when we expanded the business. But he’d never stop trying to look out for me, and maybe I didn’ttotallymind, as long as he respected my opinions.
And my brothers occasionally had to pull my ass out of the fire over at Ball Breakers. The new owners had expanded, adding even more pool tables, so I got my fill of play time whenever I wanted. I was a lot less cavalier about hustling people, but there were always a few guys who couldn’t handle losing, even if I warned them up front that I was going to beat them. Liquor and competitiveness didn’t always mix.
Flynn wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple. “You’re a grown-ass man to me,” he murmured in my ear. “I’ll show you later.”
I perked up at the thought, suddenly in a hurry to get dinner over with so Flynn and I could move on to the rest of the night. Of course, that was a ways off just yet.
Dalton was still grilling the steak. I sat down at the table, across from Axel and Holden, and beside Shiloh and Emory. Flynn wandered over to chat up Dalton while he grilled.
I sipped my beer. “So, did you start that new guy at the junkyard?”
