And since our parents are dead, Ry became what I no longer have.
Father and brother.
Protector and pest.
“I’m seriously questioning whether you’ve learned anything at all, Nova.” He slaps the side of the truck, startling my eyes back up to his. “Daydreaming? Really? There could be snipers in the trees, kid. They could have you in their scope already.” He revs the truck, disappointed as he shakes his head from side to side. “Eyes open, or you’re dead meat. You know that.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” I start down the porch steps and circle the hood of my sixty-something-year-old Chevrolet Silverado. It was once a shining gold.Probably.These days, it’s more of a poo-brown, and the gleaming showroom pizzazz it once had is now nothing more than chipped paint and flaking speckles flying off every time I top fifty miles per hour.
Dragging my squeaking door wide, I climb into the cab and plop down beside my frustratingly charming, obnoxiously naggy, minutes-older brother. But when the scent of chopped wood, engine grease, and aftershave hits my senses again, I settle back and smile. “You’re being dramatic.”
“You think so?” He taps the gas and brings us along my potholed driveway. “I haven’t eaten since last night, Nov. My body is basically consuming its own muscle at this point.”
“The fact you’re almost never here is theonlyreason I tolerate you when you are.”
He reaches across and tickles the side of my neck, so I whip my hand up and slap his away with a resoundingcrack.
“And daydreaming on my own porch? In my own backyard? A yard wrapped in forty-foot trees and absolutelynoneighbors for at least a mile in any direction? Dude!” I smack his hand away again. “This is Mount Gaines. It’s safe. It’s home. There are no snipers in our trees, and you’re not hot-wiring trucks on the wrong side of a battlefield today. Chill.”
He pulls out of our driveway and onto a slow, winding, small-town road, and because there’s no traffic—ever—he settles in and opens his legs wide, resting his arm on the back of our bench seat and glancing across to look me up and down. Sunglasses cover most of his hazel stare, but I see the flicker of his lashes behind the lenses. The expression that conveys frustration with my nonchalance.
“Paying attention is important, Nov. If you’re floating through life and completely unobservant, I’m gonna worry. And if I worry?—”
“Then you won’t be able to do your job,” I repeat the line he’s fed me for years already. But since I don’t want him to worry about me tucked safely in the mountains and trees and practical fortress of my home while he’s… wherever he is, dodging explosives and fighting a war he never started, I concede with a nod. “I’ll be more observant.”
“Good choice.” He flicks my neck.
“Ryan!” A snarling, snapping growl tears along my throat as I bring my fist up and smack his arm. “Stop it!” I punch his ribs, hammer-hand style, and revel in his squeak of pain. His wheezing choke. And under that, the chuckle of an older brother content with his duty. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
“It’s my birthright.” He rubs his side. “My legacy, even.”
“Oh, you wanna talk legacies? Great!” I flash a beaming smile, and thrill in the panic flaring behind his sunglasses. “You dated Violet for five years, but I see no ring. There are no wedding bells or cute little nieces or nephews for me to obsess over.” I fold my legs and sit criss-cross-style as we head toward town. “Five years is a long time, Ry, and then you just… stop. Like it never happened. Care to explain yourself?”
“Absolutely not.” He shoves his palm into my face, blocking my too-smug smile. “My dating life is none of your business.”
“Yeah, but?—”
“And before you even consider it, I don’t wanna hear aboutyourdating life, either. I don’t want to know. Not a fucking peep. And I swear to Christ, if you bring a man home while I’m in town, I’ll cut his nuts out before morning.”
“You said that when I was fifteen.” I push him away and lean against the door frame as he gently brings us around a bend in the road. “You had a point back then. But we’re twenty-seven now, which means you?—”
“Still own a sharp knife, and unusually specific knowledge on how to use it. Don’t test me, Nova. Not while I’m in the next room. He won’t survive the night.”
“Big baby.” I turn the radio a little louder as a soft country song plays on the wind, dragging me right back to driving in this truck, on this road, a decade and a half ago, but with mydad at the wheel. His hat pulled low over his eyes, the sun blinding us from ahead. His stubble-covered jaw and his long, slow smile that always made me comfortable.
If he was happy like that, relaxed and tapping along to the beat of whatever music was on, then the world was at peace. Back then, nothing could hurt us.
“Are you dating anyone?” Ryan side-eyes me, his jaw clenching and gritting. “I didn’t wanna know. Idon’twanna know. But is anyone sniffing around?”
“Are they dogs?” I set my elbow on the door frame and my head against my palm. “Sniffing around implies a certain animalistic trait.”
“Men?” he clarifies. “Yeah. They’realldogs. All douchebags. So?”
I wrinkle my nose and consider. I don’t think meeting a guy at the bar last month really counts as dating, especially since I left him there. And talking to Old Man Duke down at the dinerdefinitelydoesn’t count, since he’s married and old enough to be my grandpa. “I’ve got nothing to report, Cap’n. I’ve been working a lot this year, and even if I let a guy buy me a drink sometimes, they almost always say something stupid within the first five minutes. It’s hard to like them when the bar is set so high. I wouldn’t settle for anyone who isn’t even half as good as?—”
“Me?” Like a peacock, he flutters his metaphorical feathers and lifts his chin in pride. “I know. Setting the standard so high was intentional.”
“I was going to say, Daddy,” I snicker. “But sure, Ry. You, too.”
