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Scoffing, Hassie raises a brow, clearly unimpressed. “Like you know anything about romance. Let me guess, you want him to give Delilah some Carhartts, wine and dine her with some sandwiches in the feed truck?”

I roll my eyes, regretting asking for help. The last thing I need is these two idiots chiming in with their bright ideas.

“He should do it. Show her what she’s in for getting together with a cowboy.” Warren’s serious gaze goes to Hassie.

“Leave him alone. He doesn’t need your help.” Hassie grins. “He has mine.” She swivels on her stool to look at me. “Whatever you do for Delilah, she needs to be treated nice, Cole.” Her finger punches my chest. “So treat her nice.”

“I intend to.”

“Why aren’t you at work? You’re late.” Warren’s eyes haven’t left Hassie’s face, that smug smile long faded as he stares at her.

“Shit.” She checks the clock behind the bar.

“Your store opens at ten. And you have therapy today.” Warren has her schedule memorized like it’s his own. “That always comes first, Hassle.”

I watch Hassie bristle at Warren’s lecture. She’s never been one to follow law and order. Even when she lived with us for those few short years, she was unwilling to be bossed around by any of us.

“Blah blah blah, War. That’s what I hear when you talk.” Hassie rips off her stool, spinning around to look at me. “Will you tell your brother I’m a grown woman perfectly capable of taking care of myself?”

“Barely,” Warren counters, disapproval evident in his tone.

She flaps her hand dismissively. “Fuck you, boss man.”

“Gonna raise your fuckin’ rent if you’re not careful with that mouth.”

Hassie bares her teeth, looking like she’d like to bite out his throat. “I’d like to see you try my mouth, asshole,” she goads, and Warren’s cheeks flush. “Good luck, Cole.” She grabs her bag, gives me a sweet smile, and slams out the front door.

“Goddamn woman,” Warren complains, wrenching a hand through his dark hair.

“She wants to kill you.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Warren sits beside me, his face serious. “So, what’s the problem?” A memory comes to me—sitting with him and Jack in our tree house, flipping through our dad’s Playboys, and talking about the girls we had crushes on in grade school.

“Do girls really look like this?” I asked, letting the centerfold fall open. Warren leaned in, mouth open.

“Some girls.” Jack cocked an amused brow. “Why? You thinking about getting one?” He chuckled when I made a face, trying not to let on that I was thinking about Chloe Crandall from history class.

“Well, you come see me when you get a girl, little brother. I’ll lay it all on you.”

“I don’t know.” I roll up my cuffs, the bar suddenly hotter. I’ve barely spoken about personal things to War since I left.

Warren regards me with a hard stare he usually reserves for our younger brothers. “What? You sick? What’s with you? You need a drink?”

I shake my head, shifting on the stool. “I don’t know, maybe I’m—”

“In love.”

“What?”

“You’re in love, Cole.” My brother sighs. “You fucking idiot. You fell for the girl.” He says it sympathetically, as if it were a thing I could have ever controlled.

I open my mouth to tell Warren I don’t know when I fell for Delilah, but it’s a damn lie. I do. The second I found her sleeping in the Creek House I was a goner. She’s deeper than physical attraction. I crave our conversation. There’s a damn ache in my soul when I’m without her. Grief, the vise around my lungs, disappears whenever she’s near.

This entire summer, slowly, I’ve been sinking.

All we should have been was temporary.

Now, I want this woman until the end of time.