Completely and utterly alone.
But I guess that’s one thing we have in common.
Because even with the twins and whoeverthemisin the house, I’ve never felt as isolated as I do now.
TEN | COLTEN
“I’m not going to get her fucking dog.”
Cam folds his arms over his chest, glaring at me while Bren lights up a cigarette—an addiction he picked up a few weeks after my father was arrested to help combat his anxiety.
I have enough shit to worry about right now as is. Someone has to keep this property maintained and the company running. Between the books, logistics, physical labor, and keeping this family high above water, I can’t fuck around like my twin brothers. And I sayhigh above waterbecause we know too damn well that even touching the water gives it the authority to drag us back under. My siblings and I spent too long fighting to get out of the current fed by all the family issues caused by my father; it won’t fucking happen again.
I played my part.
I got her here.
It’s done.
She’sbeen too much of a distraction already.
I toss the wrench aside and tug the oil pan closer. The metal grating across the concrete floor produces a screech that raises the hairs on the nape of my neck.
Wiping my grimy black hands on the red towel on my lap, I lean against the massive back tire of our green tractor. Propping one arm on my knee, I release a frustrated breath tainted with annoyance.
“It will only take you an—”
I crush the cloth in my fist, aiming for Cameron’s dick. It soars rapidly but contacts his stomach. His grunt of surprise fills the air, along with more tension than there already was between us. The towel lands on one of his boots.
“What the hell, man?” Cameron barks.
Bren conceals a snicker beside him.
I push myself to my feet, marching toward him. “I am swamped around here, and you two need to start pulling your weight again!” I point a finger at his chest. “Why don’t you two go fetch her dog? I have more important things to do around here, and peak season is approaching.”
Cam throws an arm out. “Because Bren and I have to go get the damn truck she left at Crocks!”
They should’ve thought about that and the dog when they made their plan. But no, they wanted to play with their food. On the other hand, I have no problem demolishing it right there and reveling in the fight they give me before hopelessness dawns on them. It’s poetic.
“It will be easier to get back to normal once she’s settled,” Brennan mentions. “She’s just being—difficult right now.”
I hold back the smirk that’s attempting to pull at my lips. Thinking about her feisty personality and foul mouth has the blood rushing straight to my cock.
“I hope so,” I agree sternly. Their matching green eyes magnetize toward each other’s. “You need to forget abouthow she makes your dicks feel for one goddamn minute and remember that the reason why she’s here in the first place is that I need your help around here, and Jess is leaving for school. I’m not paying you to be pussy-whipped.”
Lindenvale Hill Orchard doesn’t run independently, and I’m getting exhausted. I always thought one day I’d receive the family inheritance and all that comes with it, but it’s different when you can prepare for it versus it getting dumped on your shoulders overnight.
I had barely any responsibility, was mourning, and woke one day with everything on my shoulders. It’s a lot of fucking weight to carry, and it’s been slowly dragging me to the depths.
“You’re one to talk,” Cameron snips, breaking the silence. “Do you think we miss those women coming in and out of your cabin every night?”
They’re a warm cunt. A release. Nothing more. Because all relationships are hopeless, and someone is bound to end up with a knife in their fucking heart.
They are the ones who willingly come back because they enjoy my particular taste in pleasure. And keeping them on a repetitive loop will keep me from indulging in the one thing I’m afraid I’ll want.
Raising my arm to my head, I wipe off the bead of sweat dripping down my brow. I glance down at the ink snaking across my arm, admiring how it glistens from the moisture under the shop lights.
Running my tongue on the inside of my bottom lip, I peer out the two large doors pulled back to give a view of the edge of the orchard across the field. Keeping my eyes trained on the trees, I follow the movements of their branches and fruit swaying from the steady afternoon breeze. The circulating air carries the scent of approaching rain, the smell bringing a little clarity when I inhale deeply.
