by Sean Michael
Cash led her out, easing her to the door. “Ma’am. Don’t do this to the babies. I don’t know what the deal is with you and Brad, but y’all have to let it go.”
“Val should have left me in charge, not a pair of light-in-the-loafers boys.”
“One of those boys is yours, and you’re being a bitch to him. Shit, lady, he’s the only kid you have left.”
Her head went back like he’d hit her. “Are you calling me a bitch, you no-good hick?”
“No. I said you were being a bitch. Two different things.”
“I’m leaving before I’m insulted any further! You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!” She charged out in a cloud of righteous indignation and slammed the door hard behind her.
Brad was still standing where he’d been, looking so fucking sad.
“I’m sorry, man. I tried to talk to her,” Cash said. They needed to talk to a lawyer.
“I’m done talking to her.” Brad shook his head. “We never got along like a house on fire, but it was always Val who used to have real screaming matches with her. I guess it’s my turn.” Brad sighed. “She’s got papers now, and I don’t put it past her to try to make it fly in court so she gets her own way. I think we need to talk to Radcliffe. Make sure the will’s incontestable.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I think we’d better.” Cash patted Brad’s back. “Come on. We’ve got scared babies to comfort, buddy.”
“Shit. You know if she’s only going to come here to get everyone riled up, I’m fucking tempted to ban her from the house.” Brad headed for the TV room, knocked on the shut door before going in.
Ben looked over at him, holding Brenna close. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. She was in a mood.”
Brad was making an effort to keep it light. “Just the same old same old with your grandmother. Nothing ever really changes.” Brad went to his haunches. “Now I want a kiss. Who’s going to give me one?”
“Me!” Brian leapt first, his short little legs running for Brad.
Brad wrapped his arms around Brian, and he fell back, making a show of being knocked over, whole body relaxing as he played with Brian. Of course, that meant Bethy and Brenna had to tackle him too. Bella-Bella watched and snorted, too grown-up to play.
“Oh no! The monkeys have me again! Who’s going to save me? I need a fair princess to slay the dragons for me.”
“Ben, your uncle Brad needs your help.” Cash ducked as Ben tossed a pillow at him.
“Belle?” Brad called out, hand snaking out from within the pile and waving pathetically at her. “Don’t abandon me now!”
Cash could see her debating, trying to decide whether to jump or not.
Brian gave an enthusiastic bounce, making Brad groan realistically. Very realistically. “Damn, someone remind me to put on a cup next time I do this.”
Belle laughed and went for it, tickling Bri until the little blond boy screamed happily. God, look at them. Look at them all. Why couldn’t their grandmother see this?
Brad eventually sat up and pulled them all in for hugs. “Okay, Enough. Time to sit a minute, okay?”
Cash plopped down on the floor, opened his arms, and got the twins. “Man, y’all are all getting big.”
“Big. Big. Big!” Brian bounced on his leg, making Brenna laugh.
Brad had the girls, and Ben was sitting on the couch, Branson’s snores coming from the baby monitor on top of the TV.
“How would you guys like to spend spring break at Uncle Cash’s ranch?”
“Oh, dude. I would. Can I call Charlie?” Ben stood up, grinning wide.
“You mean right this minute? Sure, go ahead.” Brad grinned, looking far more relaxed now. “What about the rest of you—do you remember the last time you visited the ranch? With the horses and stuff?”
Belle nodded. “There’s a trunk filled with craft stuff and horses and a garden and a swimming pool and a trampoline.”
“A trampoline? How come no one told me about the trampoline before now?”
Oh, now, if Cash’d known it would only take a trampoline to get Brad down to the ranch, he would’ve mentioned it at the start. “Jack liked having kid-fun stuff when they came.” And God knew he had dribs and drabs of company all summer long.
“Sounds like a good start, then.” Brad met his eyes, and Cash could see his decision in his face. This visit was a formality.
Thank God.
“It’s a good start. A good plan.”
“God knows we’re going to need one,” Brad said.
“Hell, Brad, honey. We’re going to need six.”
Chapter Six
BRAD SCANNED the restaurant. It had linen tablecloths and napkins, little candles on all the tables, and there was no kiddie section on the menu. The kids were back home with their regular babysitter, Melanie, who’d been happy to get called up to work. Apparently babysitting six kids was good money.
He grinned across the table at Cash. “It’s almost like we’re on a date.”
“God. You. Me. Food with knives….”
“I can cut your steak up for you if you’re missing helping out the kids.”
“Don’t make me kick your butt, man.” Cash grinned, looking amazing in a pressed shirt, starched jeans.
Brad was wearing a suit himself, the tie now in his pocket, his top button undone. They’d been in to see Radcliffe. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Not here. This is a nice place.” Smiling asshole.
“It is. I think we should have a bottle of wine with dinner. Seeing as we’re playing at grown-ups.” And steak. He was having the filet stuffed with blue cheese.
“I’ll have a beer.” Cash pinked. “I don’t know shit about wine.”
“You don’t need to know about wine to enjoy a glass of it now and then. I don’t do any pretentious crap. I just ask for a bottle of their house red. Which you are not going to make me drink on my own.” They were in this together. All of it.
“Well, okay. Okay, sure.” Cash gave him a wide-eyed look, then a nod.
Brad bit his lip to keep from grinning too hard. “Don’t worry. I won’t order for you.”
“I know what I want to eat. Shrimp and sirloin.”
“Cool, I know what I’m having too.” He caught their waiter’s eye and the man headed right over. He took their order and promised homemade rolls and butter would be arriving soon.
“You feeling better about things now we’ve talked to Radcliffe?” Brad asked. The lawyer had assured them that the will would stand. Val and Jackie had dotted every i and crossed every t. “I know I am.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I think so. I’m trying to believe it, you know?”
“Yeah, well I like the idea of sitting down with him and a mediator and Mother. Making her see that any sort of custody battle is going to hurt the kids.” He wasn’t convinced she could be entirely rational about this, but he sure hoped so.
“Yeah. Yeah, I want her to see her grandkids, but I’m not giving up custody.”
“She can come down to Texas anytime she wants to see them.” Brad didn’t point out how going to Texas had somehow become a given.
“Yep. They’re all excited as hell about the trip, huh? Have you figured out how we’re handling the plane ride?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. Belle and Beth can sit together, and Ben can have Branson next to him. Then you and I each take a twin. The trick will be getting all eight seats close. We’ll have to warn the airline and make sure they follow through on that.” It had the potential to be a nightmare. They were good kids, though, and he had hopes that it went better than any worst-case scenario.
“Well, if we got two three-seats and one two, we ought to be okay. Should we call a travel agent?”
“Yeah, we might have better luck doing that.” He grinned. “Enough talk about the kids. This is a grown-up date, remember? Tell me about yourself.”
“Huh?” Cash chuckled, ran one hand through his newly crew-cut hair. “I’m a cowboy, f
ull-time. I got a degree in husbandry, raise buckin’ bulls and American Quarter Horses. I got a pickup truck at the house, and I spend a lot of time on my boat.”
“Boat?” The rest Brad knew; the boat he hadn’t heard about yet.
“Yeah. Just a little bass boat with a motor. Nothing fancy, but I can take it out to Lake Fork, tool around.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been fishing.”
“You’re kidding.” Cash looked at him like he’d admitted to murder. “How can you not have gone fishing?”
He shrugged. “My father was never around very much—worked himself into a heart attack, as you know. And, well, you’ve met my mother. Does she seem like the outdoors type to you?”
“Maybe in that weird old-lady, rose-gardening way.”
“Oh yeah, she’s got prize roses. Of course she’s also got a gardener.” Brad knew his mother was a prize. The booby prize.
“Well, I got roses at the house. Big old rambly ones my granny planted when Uncle Harold was a baby.”
“Yeah? You ought to mention that to my mother when next you see her. She’s really big on heritage flowers.” If he could find something for his mother and Cash to have in common, she might warm to him a little.
Cash nodded, lips twisting. “Yeah. She can call me a fudge-packing floral boy.”
He was glad he wasn’t drinking because he’d have sprayed Cash with whatever was in his mouth. His pale eyes never wavered, just glinted with laughter. “She wouldn’t be caught dead saying anything so vulgar.” Brad cleared his throat as the waiter brought their salads and the wine.
“I don’t know, honey. You haven’t heard her talk to me alone. She’s pretty damn direct.” Cash dug in, humming over the salad.
Brad frowned. “What? What’s she been saying to you?” Dammit.
“Oh, the same shit. She’s got some serious issues about us being gay, man.”
“She’s got serious issues about not being in control. See, if we were straight, we wouldn’t be getting on so well, now would we? If we each had a wife, this whole thing would be way more complicated.” Brad’s mother hadn’t changed since he was little; he knew what was going on now. “Plus she figures she’s got a knife, she’s gonna twist it as much as she can.”
“Well, I think it’s shitty, and I think she ought to be ashamed of herself.”
“It is, and she should be. I don’t expect anything different at this point.” He’d stopped hoping she’d change a long time ago.
“Yeah.” Cash sighed. “Man, we’ve talked kids, we’ve talked your mom. Politics? Religion? Favorite sexual position?” Then he got that wicked, happy grin.
Hello! Brad’s cock perked right up at that look. “Is yes, please, a valid answer for that last one?”
“I reckon so. So, sixty-nine, doggie style, rimming….” The words were low, barely making it to Brad’s ears.
“Cash!” Brad grabbed his napkin and spread it out over his lap.
“Well, it made the mood more adult, didn’t it?”
Little shit.
“Made it absolutely X-rated.” That mouth. Whether it was talking or sucking, it blew Brad’s mind.
“Uh-huh. That’s a good thing, right?”
“Shit yes.” Brad dug into his salad, and it was the best-tasting salad ever. Possibly it was the company.
“So, movies?” Cash asked.
“My big loves are spy movies, thrillers. Give me a mystery and a good-looking man on the lam, and I am one happy dude.”
“Yeah? I like shit with explosions, cops. I really liked that Sahara one with the pretty guy from Austin.”
“Oh, I know the one you mean. He’s sexy with that scruffy thing he’s got going on.” Brad thought maybe they had that one at home. He’d have to put it on and see if he got lucky with Cash watching it.
“You know it. It makes me laugh too. That’s one of my favorite things in movies. Laughing.”
Brad could see that. “You’ve got a great laugh—it’s nice you like to use it.”
“Hell, with those babies, who couldn’t laugh? I mean, shit. They bounced back. They coped.”
“They’re amazing, aren’t they?” He laughed. “And we’re back on the kids again.”
“Damn, buddy. We’re old farts.” Cash grinned as the steaks showed up, the waiter trying not to laugh.
“Who’re you calling old? Just because we’re in bed before ten most nights….”
“And you smell like formula most of those….”
“Better formula than dirty diapers.” Brad winked and started in on his steak.
“Ew. None of that talk at the table, man. None at all.”
Laughing and eating, talking. It felt good, being a grown-up, spending some time with Cash in an entirely new setting. The steaks were perfect, the potatoes warm and rich. Damn, they needed to do this more often. By the time they were done, he was feeling relaxed and easy in his skin.
And horny. Cash was a good-looking man and better company. Brad found himself sitting back with his glass of wine, grinning goofily at Cash.
Cash finally tried the wine, nose wrinkling a little. “It’s different than I thought it would be.”
“You’ve never tried wine before?” And he had thought Brad was strange, not having ever gone fishing.
“Nope. I mean, hell, I can buy two six-packs for a bottle of wine….”
“Oh, I can probably find you wine that cheap. It’ll taste like rotten vinegar, but it is available.” He caught sight of dessert coming to the table next to them. “Oh, we should get something sweet.”
“Man, look at that hunk of cake.” Cash nodded, grinned.
“I like hunks….” He winked, eyes on Cash. “If we get two different things, we can share.”
“Works for me. One should be chocolate.”
“You won’t get any argument on that from me.”
With perfect timing the waiter appeared to find out if they wanted anything else.
“We do. Two coffees and we’d like a piece of that chocolate cake and a piece of something else not chocolate.” Brad wasn’t picky.
Cash looked sated and pleased, and it made him wonder where they’d go in Texas—some bar? A steakhouse? Because they’d have to go somewhere every now and then. Just the two of them.
Fuck, he had it bad. Not just physically either. If there were no kids, he’d still want to be with Cash. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he downed the rest of his wine.
“You okay, buddy? You went all pale.”
“Yeah, yeah. I… I’m fine.” He nodded and smiled across the table at Cash. He was so fucked. Lucky for him Cash and he were in this together for at least another twenty years or so.
“Cool.” Cash reached out for him under the table, patted his leg. “Man, I can’t wait to take you home, show you everything. I hope you love it like I do.”
“Even if I don’t, I’ll love the people under the roof, yeah?” He slid his own hand beneath the table to take Cash’s.
“Yeah. Yeah, Brad. All of us. Just like I do.”
Oh.
Oh damn.
He nodded, holding Cash’s gaze. Yeah. Just like they both did.
It took the waiter coming back with their coffee and two plates with enough cake for the two of them plus the kids to break that look. Clearing his throat, Brad managed a thank-you for the waiter, but his attention was still mostly on Cash.
Cash grinned at him, shook his head. “You know, I never thought losing Jackie would get me a family.”
“I hear you. I never expected to have kids of my own and now… well, it’s the whole package, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, man. It is.” The look in Cash’s eyes was serious as a heart attack.
Brad held tight to Cash’s hand beneath the table, squeezed it. “We should probably eat some of these desserts.”
“Yep. The whipped cream’s deflating.”
“I’m not.”
Cash gave him a wicked, wicked grin. “Me either
.”
“Sexy fucker,” Brad muttered. “I guess we’d better eat and see if we can get out of here without getting arrested.”
“Yeah, that would for sure have your momma’s lawyers after our asses.”
“Yeah, our asses are the problem, aren’t they?” Brad winked, spearing the chocolate cake with his fork.
Cash’s laugh rang out, even as he took a bite of whipped cream. Oh, now, cream on those lips was something that had Brad harder than ever.
Trying not to stare, he pushed his piece of cake into his own mouth. “Oh, this is good!”
He offered the next piece to Cash. Cash took the fork, humming around the bite.
“Maybe we should get the rest of this to go.” He wanted in the worst fucking way.
“Maybe. We can pay the sitter and then lock the bedroom door.”
“That sounds like a plan.” Brad waved at the waiter, eager to get their bill and get home.
Cash took another bite of cake, humming low. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”
They had the desserts boxed up, and Brad reached for the bill.
“I’ll get this one.” Cash grabbed the bill away from him.
He narrowed his eyes. “And why exactly are you getting the bill?”
“Because I’m the boy.” Cash winked.
Brad’s mouth dropped open, and for a half a second he was going to take offense. Instead, he laughed, and after the waiter had taken Cash’s credit card and left to run it through, he leaned forward to murmur, “As long as you prove it when we get home.”
Cash nodded, eyes holding his. “Just like you proved it to me two days ago. I was still walking bowleggedy this morning.”
“I noticed.”
He noticed everything about Cash. Hell, he was a little obsessed.
Seeing as he wasn’t the only one, that was okay.
The waiter brought back the receipt and Cash signed.
It was time to go back to the house, to their family. “Take me home, cowboy.”
“UNCLE CASH! Uncle Cash! Gram’s here with the police!”
Cash hit the stairs running, the baby in his arm. “Don’t open the door, Bella. You let me talk to them.”
He handed Branson off to Ben. “Son, you get on the phone. Call Brad. Tell him to call the lawyer and get the hell home. Now.”