by Abby Brooks
Man, was I wrong. I can admit it. It looks like everything worked out the way it was supposed though. This time. It’s obvious as anything he’s never been happier. Hell, just about everywhere he goes, he’s got his clone hanging off his chest in one of those baby carriers. Peacocking around, making a fool of himself. And her too, she’s just too young and too cute to suffer for it. Yet.
Honestly though, I’m happy to let Gabe pick up my slack as the Wilde goofball. I’ve been carrying that torch for years now, and…well, since I’m being honest, the timing couldn’t be better to hand over the baton. See, there’s this girl. It’s a long story, but I think there might’ve been something real between us, except I never had to the chance to find out. One of those missed connections you hear folks go on about. But please don’t get me started on the why’s and how’s that caused me to miss my chance with her. Want a hint?
Gabe.
Or, as I like to call him, Dickhead. Sometimes, Professor Dickhead, but that’s only when he gets up on his soapbox, determined to explain this or that to me. I hate to break it to you brother, it’s not like I don’t already know what you’re saying. Most of the time, anyway. It’s just that I don’t feel the need to always walk around with a stick up my ass. I like to have fun, and life’s short. Besides, you know what they say about taking life too seriously…nobody makes it out alive.
I flip on the turn signal and wave back at ole’ Bill Rogers as he passes. Jeez, hard to believe I’ve known that man for twenty years. And I’m fairly sure he was a hundred years old when I met him as a kid. With the road clear of oncoming traffic, I cut the wheel and pull my truck into the lot next to Belle’s. I park in a couple empty spots near the back. This long-bed dually pickup doesn’t do so well in tight spots. Better for folks to think I’m an arrogant prick for taking two spots, then to leave a racing stripe down the side of their car when I try to back out and don’t have enough room, ya know?
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, Gabby. She’s almost three months old now. I can hardly believe it myself. Spring has officially sprung, well, maybe not officially, but it’s May and the winter weather is behind us. She’s adorable, I have to give her that. My nephew Logan is too, don’t get me wrong, but that boy is as serious as a heart attack (the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, as they say).
Gabby though? She is one hundred percent the polar opposite. Always smiling and happy. I mean, she isn’t much good for anything. Can’t walk, can’t crawl, can’t even eat decent food. But they grow fast, and it’ll all change soon. Especially the food. Some of those jars of baby food are damn good you know. With any luck, as she grows she’ll take after her mother. Entirely. That is, unless there’s a way for her to inherit the lucky gene from her daddy. But heaven help us, if she inherits anything else from him.
I kill the engine and flip down the mirror to look myself over one last time. “Take a breath, stud. What speed is awesome again? Exactly—nobody knows and there’s only one way to find out.” I flip the visor up before opening the door and sliding out. I crack my neck as I cross the parking lot. She may not even be working today. And hell, even if she is she may not remember you. It’s been almost a year.
I think that’s what I’m afraid of most. What if she doesn’t remember me?
Bells above the door ring as I enter. The woman I’m here to see stands at the far end of the diner, topping off a cup of coffee for one of her patrons. She looks back and smiles. “Welcome to Belle’s. Sit anywhere you like. I’ll be right with you.”
I nod and take a seat at the counter up front. Could this girl be my Meredith? Someone who walks into my life and changes it forever? Casually, I glance back at her. Great figure? Check. Ass that won’t quit? Check. Shit, she turns around just in time to catch me staring at her ass. Man, not the best start to making this girl fall in love with you. She smiles, flashing dimples my way, as she walks towards me and slips behind the counter. Adorably cute? Definitely check.
“Afternoon. My name is Mollie. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Belle’s hasn’t gotten its liquor license since I was here last, has it?”
Mollie frowns. “Nope, I’m sorry to have to say we haven’t.”
“Worth a shot,” I say with a laugh. “Coffee would be great, thanks.”
Mollie rests her elbows on the table and leans in to whisper. “If you can wait another minute I’ve got a fresh pot brewing.” She raises the pot of coffee in her hand. “This one has been on the hot plate for an hour or so.”
“Alright then, I’m happy to wait.”
She smiles. “Let me get these orders out and I’ll be right back to fill you up a fresh cup.”
Hank and Mollie? Hank and Moll? Mollster? H&M? Hmmm. Doesn’t sound any worse than Gabe and Meredith, I guess. Speaking of Meredith, as a favor to the family she offered to put that accountant brain of hers to work by looking at the finances for the ranch. Apparently, Dad’s accountant wasn’t too concerned about keeping up to date with all the latest tax info…anyway she’s already found a half dozen or so ways to optimize things. When Chet told Christy about it, she offered to pay Meredith to do the same for the vet clinic, and now she’s getting calls left and right from folks interested in hiring her.
And to think, Gabe was about to give up his entire life and move her three hours away, so she could find work. Idiot. And that there is another example of how he earned the nickname, Professor Dickhead. Hell, if things keep picking up for me, I might need to hire her too.
I don’t know if it’s enough to qualify as a career, but she seems happy with it for the time being. She gets to be a full-time mom, while also having something besides a baby to keep her occupied. Especially out on the ranch. Gabe and Chet can be gone a lot sometimes, and a person could go stir crazy if they don’t have something to keep them busy. Like four wheeling, or semi-professional drinking, or doing both at the same time.
Mollie walks back behind the counter, drops off the half-filled carafe in her hand, and picks up a full one. “Here you go, handsome. One fresh cup of coffee, as promised.”
Handsome? Alright. Now we’re talking.
“Thanks, beautiful. But most people call me Hank. Handsome being so formal and all.”
Mollie pauses as she processes my words. Then she laughs and puts her hand on my arm. “Handsome and a good sense of humor. That’s a hard combination to find.”
“You’d think so, right?” I joke. “And yet, here I sit, rotting on the vine. Can’t seem to find a good woman to save my life.”
“Oh, I doubt you have much trouble finding women,” she jokes as she clears the dishes from a spot just down from me.
I stare down at my coffee. “You know how it goes in a small town. Two of my older brothers both lucked out. Sometimes I wonder if they plucked the last two available women right out from under me.”
“You talking about Chet and Gabe?”
Surprised, I look up at her. “You know who my family is?”
Mollie looks surprised by the question. “You show me one person in here who doesn’t know the Wildes. I dare you to try.”
I rub my chin. “Interesting.”
A cook on the other side of the pass-through yells to Mollie that an order is up. As she picks up the plate she looks back at me. “What’s interesting?”
“Now I’m curious to see what else you know about me? And I think it’s unfair that I don’t know much about you.”
Mollie smiles. “Hmmm. That is interesting, isn’t it. How could we fix that?” she asks as she walks away.
Acknowledgments
To our early readers—Linda, Candy, Joyce, Nicki, and Jackie. You wonderful women worked so hard for Gabe and Meredith. Thank you for all the time you spend in our world.
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