Reilly and Chelsea were in the living room, talking under their breaths. If he had to guess, the topic of their conversation was Brady, although Reilly tried to pretend she didn’t have a thing for him. Donovan knew better. He also knew his best friend had eyes for his little sister. Donovan got the feeling Brady was sticking by the bro code:best friends don’t date best friend’s little sister. Perhaps he should’ve been more worried about Brady and Reilly ending up together, but to be fair, Donovan didn’t know a better man for his sister. Brady was a stand-up guy, loyal and honest. Why wouldn’t Donovan want that for her?
Approving or not, he wasn’t going to give them a nudge. Either they would figure it out, or they wouldn’t. Not his problem.
Mom and Dad were talking to Stone, getting the lowdown on all things cowboy. He was the one they saw the least, even though they tried to make it to Houston every couple of months for a weekend. Donovan saw him even less than that, but they kept in touch by phone.
Then there was CJ. He’d been texting on his phone since he got there. If Donovan had ten guesses who he was chatting with, every single one would be the same: Jamie Collier. CJ’d had a thing for her for quite some time now. Since they were texting back and forth, he had to think they’d progressed from the point where CJ simply spent his Saturday nights staring at her across the bar.
Paul, Brady, and Tate were still at the dining room table talking about sports. He found it amusing since Tate wasn’t much of a football fan, yet he could hold his own in a conversation. Donovan could credit Reilly for that. She was a fanatic—a Dallas Cowboys fan through and through—and through the years, she’d imparted her best friend with her knowledge.
The kicker was Donovan had never cared whether or not Tate was up to speed on stats or upcoming games. He’d always considered Tate to be an extension of Reilly. When Reilly and Tate were young, Donovan had seen him as another member of the family. One who was always around.
But Donovan had never seen him as a kid brother. No. They’d never developed that sort of bond. And after their conversation back when Tate turned seventeen, Donovan started seeing him in an entirely different light—the kind that shone with keen interest and, yes, an underlying physical attraction.
There was something about Tate Riggs that called to something deep inside Donovan. Something he’d never felt with anyone else. For years, he’d chalked it up to a distorted sense of family obligation. Or that was what he tried to tell himself, anyway. Truth was, Donovan was attracted to him. Not only physically but on a deeper level. He admired Tate. Perhaps it was Tate’s ability to stand up for himself or how he accepted that other people wouldn’t change, no matter how much you wished they would. Tate was a realist.
A very sweet, very cute one.
Whatever the reason for Donovan’s recent and inappropriate interest in the kid, Donovan couldn’t help himself. On top of that, he didn’t understand it. Then again, he wasn’t trying to. The last thing Donovan needed was to get mixed up with a guy who didn’t understand the meaning of a one-night stand. For as long as Donovan had known Tate to be interested in someone, he’d been in one relationship after another, most at least semi-serious. Donovan preferred the opposite. But what did he know? His usual type was the exact opposite of Tate Riggs, yet he still found himself thinking about the guy far more often than he should.
As though he could sense Donovan thinking about him, Tate’s eyes cut to him. It was only a brief look, but it was enough to remind Donovan there were people around. People who noticed shit he didn’t want them to notice.
“Anyone want another beer?” Donovan asked as he pushed to his feet and headed for the kitchen, taking the route through the living room so he didn’t risk catching anyone’s eye.
“I’ll take one,” his father said.
“None for me. I’m headin’ out in a couple of minutes,” Stone told him, reaching out to stop Donovan before he could pass by. “Reilly showed me the barn. Y’all did a phenomenal job.”
“Thanks.”
Stone lightly punched his shoulder. “It was good to see you.”
“Yeah, you too.” Donovan hugged him. “Don’t be a stranger. And if you’re needin’ company down there, just holler. I’m sure I can round up a couple of assholes and send ’em your way.”
Stone laughed. “You and Brady are welcome anytime.”
“Hey!” Brady hollered from the dining room. “I heard that.”
Donovan laughed and bumped Stone’s shoulder. “Be careful on your way home.”
“Always.”
“I’ll take a beer,” Brady shouted. “Since you’re talkin’ shit.”
With a smile on his face, Donovan headed to the kitchen. He grabbed two beers from the fridge, popped the tops with the opener, carried one to his father, the other to Brady, and returned to the kitchen to get one for himself.
Listening to Stone say his goodbyes, Donovan moved to the back door. He stared at the five acres of dead grass behind his parents’ house. They’d only fenced in a small portion. Big enough for a swimming pool suitable for a house full of kids and an outdoor kitchen they used more often than the one inside.
He took a sip of his beer and looked at the barn. He smiled. It looked so much different than it had this time last year. A year ago, they’d been four months into the significant renovation and had finally completed shoring up the walls and ceiling and cutting out all the dead, rotted wood. Donovan and Brady had put their heads together and come up with what turned out to be Reilly and Tate’s dream house. Or so they claimed. Being that it was practically in his parents’ backyard, Donovan didn’t see it as a forever home for either of them, but he was glad they liked it.
With a grin, he headed back to join the football conversation, slipping down the hallway that ran from the kitchen to the dining room when he nearly ran Tate over. In his defense, no one usually used that hallway, opting to come in through the living room.
“A little crowded in here, huh?” Donovan said, sidestepping Tate.
Tate’s gaze shot up to the ceiling, then back to Donovan’s face, eyes wide.
Donovan looked up and realized he was standing underneath the mistletoe.
Of course he was.
