by Kennedy Fox
Almost as if it’s a divine intervention, I get a text message from Trace, a guy I sorta dated for a short time two and a half years ago. When we first met, he’d just moved here because his job transferred him to San Angelo. He’s older than me, nearly thirty now, but mature and well established in his life, which is a change from the guys my age. Things ended mutually when I left to go back to college, and we kept in touch as friends.
My smile grows even larger.
Trace: Welcome back to Nowhere, Texas! I didn’t forget to text you when I got back in town, but wanted to give you some time to settle back home. Hope we can get together soon!
Rowan: I’m ready when you are! When are you free?
Trace: Next weekend?
I think about my plans with my cousins and know I can’t cancel on them. I wouldn’t anyway, especially not for a guy, but Trace is one of the good ones. He’s also not bad to look at either.
Rowan: Dang! I’m busy next weekend. What about the one after?
Trace: I’ll be traveling that weekend. Hmm…we’ll have to reconvene again ;)
Diesel shifts in his seat. “Are you talking to that old asshole again?”
Frustration is written all over his face, and I find it adorable he’s so damn jealous. When I first introduced Trace to everyone at the Bishop’s traditional Fourth of July party, Diesel and Riley nearly lost their minds. They don’t like the fact that Trace is so much older than me, but I am a grown ass woman and will do whatever I want. The last thing I need is their permission or approval.
“What’s it to you, Adam?” I say his real name and watch him stiffen even more.
“It’s nothing to me. When you’re in public, though, everyone’s gonna wonder why you’re dating your dad. That’s all.” The snark in his tone isn’t lost on me.
“My dad?” I laugh. “Trace isn’t much older than us,” I remind him.
“Nearly ten years, Rowan.”
“Seven,” I correct.
He scoffs. “You need someone who won’t pull their back out to keep up with you.” He tilts his head. “Someone who’s used to working hard and not sitting behind a computer all day.”
“Oh really? Someone like you?” I snort. “No, thank you.”
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” He waggles his brows.
I think back to when he kissed me when I was thirteen, then I remember how he denied it, and I hated him for ruining the memory. All night I’d been rejected, and it was just another reminder that I wasn’t good enough to be claimed by anyone, not even him.
My phone vibrates in my palm as I watch Diesel from my peripheral. He’s trying to play it off like he doesn’t care, but it’s more than obvious he does.
I look around, making sure none of my family is close, and it seems most of them have cleared out. They’re probably all stuffed in Zoey’s tiny little room or waiting in the hallway to go inside. “I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life than try it. I don’t want to catch a disease. I have no idea where you or your traveling dick have been.”
“You can only deny me so much before you jump on board, Row.”
I scoff. “I’m not jumping on anything, especially you.”
“We’ll see,” he says confidently.
“Whatever. Shit in one hand and wish in the other. See what happens quicker.” I shake my head, knowing he’s trying to get under my skin. At times, I think he might really have a thing for me, but I’m convinced he flirts just to aggravate the piss out of my brother and me.
Instead of giving him any more attention, I unlock my phone and reply to Trace. We decide to play it by ear and plan something another time. A smile touches my lips, and Diesel tightens his fist as uneasiness drifts from him.
Knowing he’s jealous as hell only encourages me to keep chatting with Trace because poking the beast and watching him squirm is fun. If Diesel wants to play games, maybe I’ll appease him, but it doesn’t mean I’ll ever be crawling under the sheets with him. I don’t care about his cute, boyish grin or how great he smells; he’s off-limits. The last thing I need is my brother punching Diesel in the face, but I do smirk at the thought.
Chapter Three
DIESEL
Two weeks have passed since Rowan moved back, and as much as I try, I can’t seem to get her off my mind. It’s nearly impossible, especially when she’s working at the Circle B Saloon nearly every night. Hanging out at that bar is one of my favorite pastimes, and knowing I’ll see her has me putting on cologne and taking showers twice a day. When I get off work, I just want to have a beer and relax, but now, I’m changing into nice clothes as if I’m going on a date. “Dress to impress” is one of my mama’s favorite sayings.
After work, I do exactly that, then sit at the bar for hours. I was actually kind of disappointed when I arrived and didn’t see Rowan there. Apparently, she had the night off, or at least that’s what Kenzie told me after giving me shit for asking. They all think it’s just an act, but I’m gonna prove to her and everyone else that it’s not.
I’ve had a thing for her since we were kids, but knowing she was Riley’s little sister has always deterred me. Thinking back on my past relationships, though, the reason I haven’t settled down is because they weren’t Rowan. The heart knows what it wants, and while Rowan’s favorite hobby is pushing me away, I’m confident that one day she’ll see what’s always been right in front of her.
Saturday’s her birthday, and I got her something she’d never guess. She probably doesn’t think I remembered, but I’ll never forget her special day.
I thought she’d be working tonight, but she’s spending time with her nephew, so I’ll have to give it to her some other time. With her name on my tongue and thoughts of her dancing in my head, I start taking shots. It doesn’t take long before I drink too much and have Grayson taking me home. He’s a good, responsible sidekick while Riley’s busy with his family.
“Want me to pick you up in the mornin’?” he asks, my vision slightly blurring.
“Yeah, don’t be late, though, because Alex will chew me up and spit me out.”
“Yep, will do, but remember all this when it comes time for a raise,” he tells me, grinning. “Need help gettin’ inside?”
“Imma big boy. I can handle it.” When I open the door to the truck and step out, I nearly lose my balance and laugh. Grayson waits for me to make it on the porch before he backs out of the driveway and leaves. It’s really dark out and idiot me forgot to turn on the porch light, so I end up tripping over the mat in front of the door. I catch myself before falling and lean against the wood for a second, noticing my mail haphazardly sticking out of the box. I reach over and grab it, then walk inside and plop on the couch.
Most of it is nothing but stupid fliers and junk, but one envelope grabs my attention. The handwriting is neat and is addressed to my nickname instead of my formal name.
I open it and pull out a single sheet of paper. The curly handwriting matches the front.
Diesel,
My sister, Chelsea, didn’t want me to contact you, but I feel it’s your right to know that she gave birth to a little boy named Dawson, and I believe he’s yours. She could really use your help right now. If you could, please call me.
-Laurel
There’s a phone number and name at the bottom, and all I can do is laugh. I’m ready to throw it in the trash because this seems like something Riley would do, especially after I bragged about how cute his son is to everyone. Word around the ranch travels fast, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s trying to pull my leg or something.
I set it on the coffee table, kick off my boots, and end up falling asleep on the couch. Hours later, I wake up to pounding on my front door. Disoriented and a bit confused, I roll over and land on the hardwood floor, then look up and realize I’m home. When the knocking continues, I stand, unsteady on my feet, and open the door to see Grayson’s smiling face.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s time to go to work, ya
big dumbass. It’s five,” he says, pulling his phone from his pocket and shining the bright screen in my face. “And you look like shit.”
“I drank too much…again,” I mutter, needing to brush my teeth because the nasty taste in my mouth makes me want to vomit.
“I know, I was there. You have five minutes. We gotta go, or Alex is gonna be pissed.” Grayson snaps his fingers, and I’m two seconds from shutting the door in his face and going back to sleep. Instead, I get dressed and cleaned up, take some headache meds, and before I follow him out, I grab the letter from the coffee table and shove it into my pocket. I thought I’d imagined it all but guess not.
I need a gallon of coffee and a bottle of ibuprofen, and the sun hasn’t even risen yet.
When we pull up to the B&B, I say a little prayer that today won’t be too hard. I should learn my lesson about not going to the bar on a weeknight, but until I start dry-heaving next to the boss, I might not.
“Damn, Diesel. You sure you’re okay?” Grayson asks, actually looking worried.
Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I suck in a deep breath. “Yep. I’m good,” I lie. I feel like a giant sack of shit, and considering it’s supposed to be well over a hundred degrees today, it’s not gonna get any better. The heat always makes my hangovers worse.
Grayson pats me on the back, and we walk inside the shop. Alex is kicked back in a chair with his feet on the desk, sipping his coffee.
“Mornin’,” Alex greets. He’s had a permanent grin on his face since becoming a pawpaw. If I wanted to try to get away with anything, now would be the time because he’s been in such a good mood. I break out into a cold sweat.
Alex notices as he goes through our schedule today. “You okay?”
I nod, walking to the fridge and grabbing a cold bottle of water and taking a long sip. “Yeah, I think I’m just hungry.” I can’t remember the last time I ate, which might legitimately be a part of the problem.
“Well shit, go to the B&B and eat. You know what needs to be done now.”
Grayson agrees. “Yeah, and if you don’t feel any better, I can take over and let everyone know.”
“Hell no. Duties need to be done, rain or shine,” I argue.
“Hungover or not.” Alex shrugs. “Been there. Sucks, but all of our choices have consequences. I gotta hand it to you, though, at least you were on time.”
Grayson looks at me. “You’re welcome.”
“Shut the hell up.” I grunt.
Alex glances back and forth between us. “You better get going before I change my mind and give you tomorrow’s chore list too.”
“Not needed,” Grayson says as we leave.
When we get into the truck, Grayson cranks it and backs out. “Maybe next time you’re on beer eight, you’ll stop drinking before ordering two shots. Don’t you know the rule? Beer before liquor, never been sicker.”
I close my eyes. “Once I eat, I’ll be good to go.”
As soon as we arrive at the B&B and walk inside, I smell the homemade bread. My mouth waters as we help ourselves to the buffet. Before I sit with my plate stacked high, Maize comes around the corner glaring at me.
“That’s for the guests,” she says with her arms crossed.
“I’m a guest. I’m just visiting until my plate is empty,” I taunt, shoveling food into my mouth like I’ll never see a biscuit again.
Grayson doesn’t say a word while she’s around, and eventually, she walks off, muttering some cuss words. I shrug, completely unbothered by her. He picks up his fork and begins eating.
“So, boss, where do you want me to start today?”
We’re digging a trench to place pipe so we can get water to a new area on the property that has more shade for the cows. It’ll take us at least a week to complete, which is okay.
“I was thinking maybe a few of you can mark the area first, then half of you start on the east side. Eventually, we’ll meet in the middle.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” he says. I’ve had some time to think about it because Alex had mentioned it last week in passing.
“You think you can get everyone started? I wanna go check on Riley after breakfast. I’ll grab some keys to a side-by-side and meet you out there when I’m done.”
“Sure thing,” Grayson says around a mouthful.
Once we finish eating, Grayson sits back and pats his stomach. “Damn, that woman can cook.”
“Right?” I grin. “She should open a restaurant, but this is much better because then I can eat for free.”
Grayson chuckles. “If we keep eating triple amounts of food, she might start charging us or really kickin’ our asses. The woman hates us.”
“Comes with the territory.” I shrug, not that worried. “But if she did that, I’d call her grandma and snitch because Mrs. B told me I could eat here anytime I wanted,” I explain. “And no one crosses Grandma Bishop. Not even her own kids and especially not her grandkids.”
I stand and pick up our extra plates and place them in the dirty dish tub. We say good morning to John and walk out the back door before he has the chance to give us a hard time.
“See you in an hour?” Grayson asks as I look out at the rolling hills, feeling slightly human again after eating some carbs.
“Yep, an hour should be good. Hey, after work, can you take me to the bar to get my truck?”
“Yeah, not a problem, boss.” He nods, and we go our separate ways.
Walking to the shed, I grab the keys to a four-wheeler and climb on. It takes no time to get to Riley’s house. Even though he’s not working at the moment, he keeps his early morning schedule to help take care of the baby or spoil his wife with breakfast. We’ve been waking up at the butt crack of dawn since we were teenagers. Chores had to be done, which meant rising early, and it’s hard to reset an internal clock after that long.
I lightly knock on his front door, and within seconds, Riley opens it and lets me in. He rushes back to the kitchen where he’s cooking. I glance around and notice all the lights in the house are off except in this room, which means he’s the only one awake. Every move we make seems amplified, or maybe that’s just my hangover.
“So what’s up? You’re visitin’ early,” Riley says as he pours oatmeal into a boiling pot of water.
I pull the letter from my pocket, grinning like an idiot before I sit. “You almost got me.”
Riley looks confused. “What’re you talkin’ about?”
I pick up the envelope and tap it against the table. “This.”
His forehead creases. “I really don’t know what that is.”
Riley comes over, and I hand it over. He takes the paper out and reads it. “I didn’t send you this.”
“Shut up.” I laugh. “You really don’t have to keep up the act.”
The look on his face is pure seriousness. “I swear to you on my great-grandfather’s grave, Diesel. I didn’t send it.”
It only takes seconds for my smile to fade. Riley never jokes around about family like that. I take off my cowboy hat and set it down before running my fingers through my hair.
“You want something to drink?” he asks as the blood drains from my face.
“Is it too early for whiskey?” I glance up at him.
He pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the cabinet, and I shake my head, wanting to puke just from looking at the liquid. “I’ll take some coffee instead.”
A mug is set in front of me, and Riley hands the envelope back. “Did you call the number?”
“No, because I thought this shit was a joke,” I admit.
“Chelsea. Chelsea,” Riley repeats. “Wasn’t that the chick’s name from Vegas?”
I think back to my birthday nearly two and a half years ago and try to refresh my memory. “I don’t remember.” Sadly, I don’t even remember what she looks like either, but I don’t say that out loud.
He begins plating food. “Did you wear protection?”
“I always wear protection. There’s n
o doubt about that.”
Riley shrugs. “If you know for a fact you wore protection, then I wouldn’t worry about it until she comes knocking on your door with a kid in tow. You know? If she’d have sex with you after one night, then you probably weren’t the only person she slept with at the time she got pregnant. You weren’t exclusive or anything. Hell, you didn’t even exchange numbers.”
“Right,” I agree, tucking the letter back in my pocket.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Riley encourages. I push the thoughts away and refuse to give it any more of my attention.
“How’s the dad life so far?” I ask with a grin, changing the subject.
“Feels like a dream,” he admits. “I can’t believe I have a son. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“I’m happy for you, man. And envious as fuck,” I say, wishing I had what he has.
“You’ll find someone. She might be an idiot for gettin’ with ya, though,” he teases.
“Shut the hell up. That’s no way to talk about your sister,” I add and then hightail my ass out of his house before he beats the shit outta me. I tell him goodbye and ask him to give Zoey and Zach my love before I hop on the four-wheeler and head to the east side of the land where my ranch hands are hard at work.
By the time I make it to where the guys are working, my stomach has settled. The food I ate and coffee I drank made me feel like a million bucks.
After parking, I walk toward them and look over what they’ve accomplished so far. The area where we need to dig is marked with spray paint, and they’re spaced out in twenty-foot sections with shovels. Working with them makes my life easy because I don’t have to micromanage anything they do, and they’re self-sufficient.
“Make sure y’all are drinkin’ plenty of water. Don’t need anyone gettin’ heatstroke out here,” I tell them.