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“Yes, he likes it.” He pets Sheriff behind his ear. “Don’t you?”

I ignore that new fact because I don’t think I’ll get more from Hollis on the topic.

We both twist the caps off the bottles and knock the necks of our beers together.

The sound of tires on gravel sounds again, and Sheriff takes off out of the shop once again like a bat out of hell. I arch a brow in Hollis’s direction, and he shrugs.

“Sheriff! Baylor is going to be upset she’s not here to see you,” Elliott says, walking through the shop door, Sheriff by his side.

“You called Elliott?” I ask Hollis.

“What’s with the red bandana?” Elliott asks.

Hollis slides off the table and goes back to the fridge.

“Apparently, Sheriff likes to be pampered.” I shrug and take a pull from my beer. “What’re you doing here?”

“Hollis called me. Said you didn’t sound good on the phone.”

I pin my younger brother with a stare.

“What?” Hollis’s eyes scan up and down me. “You look like shit, so I was right to call reinforcements.” He goes to hand Elliott a beer.

Elliott raises his hand and shakes his head, then hikes himself up on the worktable across from me.

“I figured you’d be picking up Baylor from school.” I set my beer on the table beside me.

He shrugs. “I would be, but Em’s gonna do it for me today.”

“Because you had to come here?” I ask.

“Because we’re a team.”

Then both of my brothers stare at me and say nothing else.

I blow out a breath. “I fucked up.”

“Well, that much is obvious, or you wouldn’t be sitting here with that sad sack look on your face,” Elliott says.

I narrow my eyes at him.

“How exactly did you fuck up?” Hollis intervenes, always the good moderator.

I hang my head and swing my feet. “I kept something from Collins.”

“Which was…” Elliott asks.

I kept something from them too.

“I applied for and got a job with Portland Fire and Rescue.” I raise my head, seeing surprise on both their faces.

“You applied for a job in Portland?” There’s an edge of hurt in Hollis’s voice.

Elliott doesn’t say anything, just watches me and waits.

“Ramsey got the promotion over me…” I explain my reasons and how I hoped to wind up back in Echo Lake someday. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you guys too.” I pick up my beer and take another pull.

“Ansel, we want you here, obviously, but you need to do what you think is best for your life. Not what everyone else thinks is best,” Elliott says.