“I gotta head back to Houston tonight.”
“Aw, man.”
“I know, kid. But I promise I’ll make it up to you on your birthday.”
Her birthday wasn’t until February, but she knew Stone would stand by his promise. He was busy, so she understood he couldn’t make his way up here as often as he would’ve liked. He worked on a ranch down in Houston where they raised bulls specifically bred to compete in PBR rodeos. Stone didn’t like to be away from it for too long.
“Is CJ or D here?” Stone asked when they reached the porch.
“CJ should be here any minute,” she told him. “And we gave Donovan and Brady a delayed time.”
“And Tate?”
“He’s at home,” she said, gesturing toward the barn at the back of the property.
“You two get that place finished yet?”
“We did. Back in August.”
“How’re you likin’ it?”
“It’s drafty,” she said honestly. “But don’t tell Mama I said that.”
Reilly had harped on her mother and father for a solid year, begging them to let her convert the barn into a house. They’d never used it for anything other than an extra garage back when her brothers and sisters lived there. She was constantly showing them pictures of fancy barndominiums that had become all the rage around these parts. When they finally relented, it was only with the condition that Donovan and Brady be responsible for the architectural changes. It turned out even better than Reilly expected, with the only downside being the ceiling was so tall it was nearly impossible to regulate the temperature in the common areas.
Stone winked. “Your secret’s safe with me, kid.”
“You should come by before you leave. I’ll give you the nickel tour.”
“Count on it,” he said before he released her to greet their father with a back-slapping hug. “Hey, old man.”
Reilly was about to walk inside when she heard tires on gravel again. She turned, expecting to see CJ pulling in, but the car that navigated the pot-holed driveway did not belong to anyone in her family.
“Who’s that?” Stone asked, coming to stand beside her.
“Someone who’s not invited,” she said, glaring as the car passed the main house and headed for the barn. “I’ll be back in a minute. I’ve got to go rip Tate a new one.”
***
Tate Riggs sat on the barstool andstared at the email he’d received an hour ago. It was from his mother. Against his better judgment, he’d reached out to her a few weeks ago to see how she was doing. Since she never answered her phone and refused to respond to his text messages, he’d resorted to sending an email.
He should’ve known better. In simple terms, his mother had nothing to say to him because he’d chosen the life he wanted, and she had no place in it.
That was the word she’d always used. Chosen. According to her, Tate hadchosento be gay, and therefore, he’d outright defied her wishes. She couldn’t tolerate the idea of it and had decided to shut him out of her life when he was seventeen. She’d kicked him out of her house and told him he could only come back when he came to his senses.
Her email response was:If you haven’t accepted that you’re living a life of sin, I don’t see any room in my life for you.
No doubt he had expected her to say that, but there had been a bit of hope glimmering for a while. Those words effectively doused that tiny flame.
Tate exhaled with a sigh. “I guess the day can’t get much worse.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he heard the sound of a car door shut. He peered over his shoulder at the windows overlooking the spot they used for parking at the side entrance.
“What the fuck?”
He got to his feet, his eyebrows peeled back as he stared at the black Hyundai. Only one person he knew drove that kind of car.
“Spoke too soon,” he muttered, closing the lid on his laptop, intending to head his visitor off at the pass.
