Читать книгу Those Texas Nights - Delores Fossen, Delores Fossen - Страница 13
ОглавлениеTHIS WAS A new level of Hell. Sophie was sure of it.
It was barely 8:00 a.m.; she hadn’t even finished her first cup of coffee and had paperwork to do on the sperm and the bull pump Garrett wanted her to purchase. But she wasn’t doing paperwork. Mila was on one side of her, Sophie’s mother, Belle, on the other, and they both had opened tablets to show Sophie what they’d found through their internet search.
They’d found Hell aka dating sites.
“It’s been six months since the unfortunate incident,” her mother reminded her. “It’s time to move on before winter sets in.”
Maybe winter was a metaphor for life passing her by, but knowing her mother she could simply be thinking of Sophie needing someone to snuggle with once it got cold. And she did miss snuggling. But she doubted she’d find that on a site called Type-A-Businessmen.com.
“They’re all professionals,” her mom said as if that would help.
“Brantley was a professional,” Sophie pointed out. A lawyer. On paper he was perfect for her, but Sophie hadn’t been able to marry the paper.
Her mother hesitated, no doubt thinking up a comeback. “Well these are professionals who haven’t jilted anyone.”
Sophie had no idea if that was actually in the bios or if her mother was just making that up to get her to take that first step into Hell.
“There are plenty of other sites,” Mila piped up. To prove that, she promptly showed Sophie the page for Cowboy-Match.com.
After one glance, Sophie concluded that not all cowboys were hot. Some were downright ugly and one had what appeared to be a lump of chewing tobacco in his jaw, complete with brown spittle on his chin.
“You like cowboys,” Mila added, frowning at the spittle guy.
Sophie did. When she was looking at shirtless pictures of them on the internet. She liked the snug jeans, boots and hats. She liked the way chaps framed their junk. But those cowboys who’d posed for man candy pictures probably didn’t need dating sites.
“How about this one?” Her mother pulled up another site. “This one is Well-Endowed-Hunks.com.”
Both Mila and Sophie turned to her mother, giving her blank stares.
“What?” Belle protested. “There’s nothing wrong with a man being large in that area.” She pointed to her own nether region.
So, her mother did know what it meant. Sophie had considered that maybe she thought that meant they’d inherited a lot of money.
You couldn’t always tell if her mother was clued into reality or not. She looked prim and proper as if she should be on one of those TV shows from the sixties, the ones where the moms wore high heels to do housework. Not a hair out of place. Lipstick was a necessity, and she wore hard padded bras that could bruise you when she gave you a hug.
“Well, if you don’t want a large endowment,” Belle went on, “I’ll look for a site for men with small weenies.”
Sophie groaned. “Don’t. Please don’t. In fact, you both need to leave so I can get some work done. Mila, shouldn’t you be at the bookstore?”
“It doesn’t open for another hour.”
Sophie groaned again. “Well, I need you both to leave. I have to order a machine to jack off the bulls. After that, I have to order some sperm.” If she’d had her coffee, Sophie was certain she would have phrased that better. Supplies for the ranch would have sufficed.
The color blanched from her mother’s face. Not a pretty sight since that only made her bright red lipstick glare like a baboon’s butt. “God, Sophie, you’re not thinking of artificial insemination.”
She wanted to groan again, but her throat was getting sore. “No. It’s bull semen for all those cows that were delivered yesterday. Garrett wanted the machine so the hands could, well, get some from the bulls we already have. But it apparently won’t be enough so I have to buy more. And I really do need to get it ordered this morning to stop the cows and Garrett from getting testy.”
Sophie might as well have been talking to her coffee because once her mother got back her color she just continued advancing into those levels of Hell.
“Here’s one I bookmarked. NicheDating.org, and you put in exactly what you want, and it matches you with your dream guy.”
Sophie laughed and didn’t bother to take the sarcasm out of it. She drank some more of her coffee and started filling out the sperm order, hoping it would prompt her best friend and mother to leave. It didn’t.
“Go ahead,” her mother insisted. “Tell me your dream man, and I’ll type it in for you.”
“Tall,” Mila answered for her. “And dark hair.” She stopped, snapped her fingers. “What about Shane Whitlock, the hand who used to work here? He owns his own ranch now near Bulverde, and I’m pretty sure he’s single.”
Shane. The guy Sophie had had a semicrush on in middle school. Because her attention had turned to Brantley in tenth grade, the crush hadn’t led to anything, and it wouldn’t now.
“I’ll look up his number for you.” Mila opened another browser screen and got started on that.
“I don’t want Shane’s number,” Sophie said. “And I don’t want my dream guy from Niche.com.”
They didn’t listen so Sophie ignored them, too, and got busy on the paperwork. Hard to tune out their comments, though.
Her mother: “You really should get serious about this. You’re only weeks away from your thirtieth birthday.”
Mila: “You’re not like me. You like having a man in your life.”
Her mother: “And I’ll never get grandchildren if you stay a virgin like Mila.”
Mila was indeed a virgin, but Sophie didn’t tell her mom that she’d lost her virginity when she was eighteen. Not to Brantley, either. They’d just broken up for the umpteenth time, and Sophie had met a bull rider in San Antonio. Lucky McCord. She had some sweet memories of him, but even if she’d wanted to reconnect with him, she couldn’t because she heard he’d gotten married.
“If these dating sites are so great,” Sophie argued, “then why haven’t the two of you used them? Mom, you’ve been a widow for ten years, and Mila, you could certainly find that special someone you’ve been looking for on a site called NicheDating.org.”
Her mother: “I don’t want another man. Your father was more than enough for me.”
Which could be taken several ways since her father could be an overbearing control freak. He was still controlling them in a way with letters he’d written and had arranged to be opened after his death. Heck, he’d even left her mother appointment calendars with reminders of birthdays, to schedule physicals, etc.
Mila: “I’m not looking for a man.”
Oh, yes, she was. But she was looking for Mr. Special.
Sophie wouldn’t bring it up in front of her mother, but Mila was obsessed with a BDSM Fifty Shades of Grey guy and wanted that kind of experience for her first lover. Sophie had figured her friend would give up by now, but the obsession was hanging on a little longer than her previous obsessions with Mr. Darcy, Captain Jack and assorted The Lord of the Rings characters.
Mila had somewhat eclectic tastes when it came to her fantasies.
“Seeing someone will help you get over Brantley,” Mila said, obviously moving this conversation back to her.
“I am over Brantley,” Sophie insisted.
But they ignored her again.
Her mother: “People feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for you.”
Sophie suddenly felt sorry for herself. And not because she’d been jilted six months ago but because two people she normally loved were making her insane.
“What about Chief McKinnon? He’s hot, and you like him,” Mila asked.
This was an easy argument to win. “He’s Brantley’s brother-in-law.”
And it didn’t matter that last she heard he still wasn’t happy about his sister’s marriage. Sophie didn’t want to get involved with someone who had that close a connection to a man she now saw as navel lint. Of course, she’d seen Clay since then. Hard to miss anyone in a small town, but thankfully he’d seemed as eager to avoid her as she had been to avoid him.
Man, oh man, she’d made a fool of herself twice in front of him. Once the day of the wedding that didn’t happen and again when she’d gone mute after hearing that Brantley and April were married. It was best if she didn’t get close enough for round three. Her foolery seemed to escalate whenever she was near him.
“Probably for the best that you aren’t looking in Clay’s direction,” Mila went on. “There’s something a little off there.”
That got Sophie’s attention. “What do you mean?”
“Well, there’s almost nothing about him on the internet. No social media accounts, only a smidge of info about him being a cop. You’d think there would be plenty more since Reena said he’d been a Houston cop for twelve years.”
Sophie shrugged. “Not everybody splashes their lives on social media.” Though it did seem off that there’d been nothing about his investigations.
“Reena thinks maybe Clay did hush-hush cases, like undercover stuff,” Mila went on. “But whatever he did, something must have happened for him to give it up and move here.”
“He moved here for his sister.” At least that was the main reason. But maybe there was something else.
“Ohmygod,” her mother blurted out. “Look who popped up as a match when I put in all the things you wanted in a man.”
Since Sophie was reasonably sure her mother didn’t know what she wanted in a man, she didn’t hold out much hope for an accurate match. Still, she had no choice but to look because her mother put the tablet right in her face. And she saw a familiar face.
Shane’s.
Mila squealed. “It must be fate because I just found his phone number.” She scribbled it down on a piece of paper and tried to hand it to Sophie, but when she didn’t take it, Mila stuffed it in the back pocket of Sophie’s jeans.
Fate. Was this really some kind of cosmic sign that she needed to start dating? She didn’t have to think long on that.
No.
It wasn’t a sign. It was a coincidence, and she wasn’t ready to risk her heart again on an eerie happenstance.
“Am I, um, interrupting anything?” someone asked from the doorway.
It was her sister-in-law, Meredith, looking her usual perfect self despite the fact Meredith wasn’t a morning person.
“Not interrupting a thing,” Sophie assured her.
“Sophie’s going on a date with this hunk,” her mother announced, turning the tablet so that Meredith could see Shane’s picture.
“No, I’m not,” Sophie mumbled, but she must not have said it loud enough because Meredith didn’t seem to hear her.
“Uh, that’s nice.” Meredith barely looked at the tablet. Barely looked at any of them. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be back in Austin for a while.”
Something was wrong. Of course, something had been wrong for a while because it was obvious Meredith didn’t like being at the ranch.
Sophie slowly got to her feet. “Does Garrett know?”
“Yes. We just finished talking. He just left, too, for a cattle buying trip to Laredo.” Meredith tried to scrounge up a smile. It wasn’t the sort of smile that’d won her all those beauty competitions. She glanced around as if she might have forgotten something and then waved. “I have to go. Daddy’s expecting me.”
Meredith walked away, leaving Mila, her mother and her to stand there gaping at the empty doorway. “Poor thing,” her mother said, “she’s still trying to get over that baby she lost.”
Maybe, but that had happened nearly two years ago, and Sophie had never been convinced that Meredith was thrilled about becoming a parent. Unlike Garrett. He’d been over the moon about it, and if anyone was still trying to get past the loss of the child, Sophie would put her money on her brother.
“I hope she and Garrett can work it out,” Mila added. “I think of them as that couple in the bull riding movie with Clint Eastwood’s son. Opposites, yes, but crazy in love.”
Sophie hated that this might be the split that she had felt coming. Hated that Garrett might be going through his own version of hell right now, but at least this got the attention off her and those blasted dating sites.
Or not.
“If you don’t want to go out with Shane,” Mila continued, “here’s another dating site for ranchers.”
Sophie went to the window and watched Meredith get into her silver BMW and drive away. She also looked around for Garrett’s truck, but it wasn’t there. She had no idea when he’d be back from the trip and even when he returned, he probably wouldn’t want to talk, but Sophie would try.
Hell. Now, there’d be two mopey Grangers under the same roof.
“Garrett will be fine, I’m sure,” her mother said. “Meredith, too. They just need a little time to make their way back to each other. Unlike Brantley and you. You know that door’s closed for good so that’s why Mila and I are trying to help.”
Sophie managed one of those fake smiles like Meredith, and she grabbed her purse. If she couldn’t order sperm in peace, then she’d go in search of her brother. “Garrett will likely stop in town before leaving for Laredo, and if I hurry, I might be able to catch him.” She raced out the door as fast as her feet would carry her.
“We’ll look at the dating sites when you get back,” her mother called out to her, assuring that Sophie would make this trip as long as possible.
After she returned, Sophie might even set up a base camp office at the guesthouse or one of the barns. There was also a house on the sprawling stretch of Granger land, a Gothic monstrosity that Z.T. had built decades ago. Her mother made sure the place didn’t fall in, but that was one of the few good things Sophie could say about it. Unfortunately, the easiest way to get to it these days was on horseback, but heading there was a better option than going another round with the matchmakers.
Sophie got into one of the ranch trucks, and she drove straight into town. A short trip of less than two miles, and she slowed when she got to Main Street so she could look for Garrett. No sign of him so she turned on one of the side streets, hoping he might have stopped in at the Maverick Café for breakfast before heading out on his trip.
Nope.
She tried his cell. No answer. But with Garrett that could mean he was simply on the phone with someone else. Then again, he wasn’t the sort to want to share his feelings. With anyone. Including her.
Since she didn’t want to go back home so soon, Sophie pulled into the parking lot of the Maverick to get a coffee to go. It was a risk because it was packed, and someone would perhaps give her the “poor, pitiful Sophie” routine where the jilting would be rehashed to make her the victim. It was a testament to how much she needed caffeine that she decided to go in anyway. However, she hadn’t made it to the door yet when the sound of laughter stopped her.
But not just laughter. Giggling.
She whirled around and immediately spotted Clay coming out of the café. Not giggling, though. Two toddlers were responsible for that. He had what appeared to be a goblin under one arm and some kind of pint-sized superhero under the other.
Clay stopped when he saw her. The kind of stop a man guilty of something might make. Probably because these were no doubt his nephews. And therefore Brantley’s stepsons.
The boys continued to giggle and poke at each other when Clay stood them on the ground. “Halloween costumes. They’re heading to playgroup over at the library.”
She’d forgotten that Halloween was coming up. Actually, she’d forgotten it was October. She really did need caffeine. And a life.
Maybe sex, too.
But she only had that thought after seeing Clay.
“If you try to run, I’ll arrest you,” he warned the boys, causing the giggles to escalate. One immediately started to run, and Clay scooped him up so easily that he must have done it dozens of times. The other clamped onto Clay’s jeans-clad leg and stared up at Sophie as if she were a deranged killer holding a blood-soaked machete.
“What are their names?” she asked just to be saying something.
Best not to stand there, thinking of sex and caffeine with the kiddos around. It was best not to think of those things with Clay around, either.
“Hayden,” he said, tipping his head to the leg hugger. “And this is the troublemaker, Hunter.”
Their faces were smeared with assorted colors of makeup, but she figured that they were cute beneath. Cute and perfect. The kind of kids that Brantley and she had planned on having. Of course, they already had a father, Spike Devereaux, but Brantley was probably having a ball playing part-time daddy.
“Are you okay?” Clay waited until her gaze came to his and he looked away.
“Sure.” And because she felt she owed him more than that, she added, “I’m over Brantley. Really.” She paused, shifted the conversation a little. “How are things with you and your sister?”
“S-h-i-t-t-y,” Clay spelled out with a smile. “I’m sure you’ve heard all about it from the gossips.”
Sophie shook her head. “I’ve been avoiding the gossips. Avoiding town, too. And phone calls from anyone and everyone who wants to spill things that I don’t want to talk about.” She could add life and sex to that list of avoidances.
Mercy.
She wished sex would stop popping into her head.
“I’m trying to make sure none of that s-h-i-t falls on these guys,” Clay added. Hunter, the troublemaker, repeated the shit, letter for letter, causing Clay to groan.
“You’re a good uncle.” And then she remembered her conversation with Mila. “Good brother to your sister, too. I mean, you gave up your job in Houston to move here to be closer to her.”
She’d meant that to sound casual, but a muscle flickered in Clay’s jaw. “Yeah,” he said, but she got the feeling there was more.
Maybe he’d gotten fired. Or had burned out. It didn’t matter—it wasn’t any of her business. Even if it felt as if it was.
“So you’re taking them to playgroup?” she asked. Not that she wanted to hurry along this conversation, but they were starting to attract a crowd. Some of the diners in the café were gawking at them through the window.
Clay didn’t nod, didn’t shake his head. “No, I’m here with April and Brantley. The boys were getting restless so I brought them outside.”
“Oh.” Probably not the best response she could have come up with, but Sophie figured she should get out of there. She fluttered her fingers in the direction of her truck. “Well, I should be getting...somewhere.” Anywhere but here.
Now Clay nodded.
And that prompted Sophie to say something. “I really am over Brantley, and I’m happy for him and your sister.” The first part was true. The last part not so much. She wanted them to make the marriage work for the sake of the toddler goblin and his superhero twin. “It’s just it might make them uncomfortable if they see me.”
Too late.
The café door opened, and Brantley and April squeezed out together. Squeezed because they had to make their way through the gawkers and also because they were practically wrapped around each other, making it difficult to fit through the door. Like the boys, they, too, were giggling, but those giggles froze when their attention landed on Sophie.
Sophie did another finger flutter toward the truck. “I was just leaving. It was good seeing you, Clay.”
She lifted her foot to get moving, but her foot froze in midstep. That’s because Sophie noticed Brantley’s right hand. It was on April’s belly. And while it was an average-sized belly, there was something about Brantley’s hand placement that had big bells clanging in Sophie’s head.
Good gravy.
“Yes, we’re expecting,” April announced. Her voice was crisp, her eyes slightly narrowed. “Other than Clay, we haven’t really told anyone yet, but I’ll be showing soon, and it won’t be a secret much longer.”
At least she didn’t assume that Sophie would be thrilled for them. In fact, April was sort of glaring at Sophie as if daring her not to be happy.
Oh, it took some doing, but Sophie scrounged up a smile though it must have looked on the creepy side because Hayden cowered even farther behind Clay’s leg. She even managed a nod that she hoped seemed like some kind of approval.
Sophie looked at Clay to see how he was handling this, and he seemed a little shell-shocked. The fact that it was only a little meant he was either very good at masking his feelings or else this hadn’t hit him as hard as it was hitting her.
“This should show you that it’s really over between Brantley and you,” April added. “We’re a happy family now and don’t want anyone from our pasts trying to spoil our future.”
“Rein in your insecurities, sis,” Clay grumbled.
“Just stating the truth,” April grumbled back. “Brantley and I are committed to each other, to this marriage. I’ve quit my job to be a full-time mom to the boys and this baby.”
“I really have to go,” Sophie said, and she put her feet on autopilot, hoping that they would get her to the truck. Somehow, they did, and she got the engine started so she could leave fast.
She didn’t get far. Sophie made it to Main Street and pulled into one of the parallel parking spaces outside Mila’s bookstore, which her friend had given the odd name of Sniff the Pages. If anyone saw her, they wouldn’t think anything of her stopping by her best friend’s business. Well, they wouldn’t think anything unless they looked closer and saw her shaking.
“I am over Brantley,” she repeated. “I am.”
But it was going to be a bitch to deal with the fact that he was not only truly over her, but he’d also moved on to the life that he’d always wanted.
Sophie didn’t cry. She made a promise to herself then and there that she’d never shed another tear over Brantley or what might have been. Instead, she fished around in her back pocket and came up with the slip of paper that Mila had put there.
Shane’s number.
And Sophie called him before she could change her mind.
* * *
CLAY STEPPED OFF the walkway to his house and ducked behind a scrawny hackberry tree. He only hoped that no one saw him doing surveillance of the chickens.
There were three by the side of his house, and they were doing what appeared to be normal chicken things by pecking at stuff on the ground. Maybe feed that someone had maliciously strewn, maybe just bugs and such.
Occasionally, one of them—the biggest one—would lift her head and look around as if doing surveillance, too. Clay didn’t want to believe they could recognize him and want to use him for chicken ninja training, but after three attacks to date, his pride couldn’t stand another go-round with the little bitches.
He considered just shooting them where they pecked, but the shots would spook his horses. Plus, it might spook Freddie or one of his sons if they were inside the house actually working. Clay doubted they were since there was no other vehicle around, but maybe he’d get lucky. He didn’t hold out hope, though, that whatever Freddie and the boys might be working on would be done right.
After all these months, Clay had given up on right, but he hadn’t given up on the remodeling. Even if it took him the rest of his life, he was going to hold Freddie’s feet to the fire and get the projects done. To the best of Freddie’s and his son’s abilities, anyway. Which wasn’t much.
After he was satisfied that the chickens were staying in the same general area, Clay left the cover of the hackberry, and yeah, he hurried to the porch. He threw open his front door and nearly had a heart attack.
“Surprise!” someone yelled.
He cursed and reached for his gun before his brain shifted from the cop to the brother mode. This wasn’t a threat that his body had prepared itself for. It was April with Brantley by her side. Brantley had some yellow balloons in his hand, and his sister thrust out a cake she was holding.
A birthday cake.
It took Clay a moment to realize that the cake was for him. And that this was indeed his birthday.
“FYI,” Clay said, taking his hand from his gun, “it’s not a good idea to start any conversation with a cop by yelling surprise. Nor is it a good idea to hide in his house and yell at him when he walks in.”
“How else were we going to give you a surprise party?” April answered. “We parked in the back so you wouldn’t know we were here.” She grinned, kissed his cheek.
Clay didn’t grin back. In fact, he narrowed his eyes, his normal reaction when it came to his kid sister and her husband. He’d accepted the marriage because he didn’t have a choice, but he hadn’t accepted that they’d been stupid enough not to use those condoms he’d sent them.
Hell.
His sister would be the mother of three—maybe four if she had another set of twins—before her twenty-fourth birthday.
April and Brantley had told him the happy news at the café the same day Sophie had found out. Clay had to hand it to her—Sophie had kept her cool despite his sister’s witchy comment. He’d kept his cool, too, but only because he hadn’t wanted to act like a horse’s ass in front of his nephews.
Of course, now he’d have another nephew or niece, and he would love him or her just as much. But since he didn’t have stars in his eyes like April, Clay knew she had a tough road ahead.
“Hayden and Hunter fell asleep so I put them on your bed,” April explained when Clay looked around for them. “Say, did you know you have a toilet in your closet?”
Clay could only sigh. No, he hadn’t known. The last he’d seen, it’d been in the corner of his bedroom, waiting to be installed in the guest bath. He hoped Freddie and/or his offspring had only moved it there to get it out of the way and that they hadn’t actually misrouted the plumbing again.
“So, is your mood better today?” he asked April, and he didn’t clarify what he was referring to because she knew.
April’s chin came up. “I meant it. I don’t want Sophie interfering in our lives. That includes your life.”
“I’m thirty-four. Last I checked, that makes me old enough to decide who I see or don’t see.”
“And you want to see my husband’s ex?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Brantley and I have enough adjustments to make without Sophie Granger watching our every move.”
“I doubt she’s watching anybody’s moves. She’s got her hands full with the ranch.” But he was talking to air.
“I don’t want her in our lives,” April declared.
The silence came. So did Clay’s temper, and he considered telling his one-and-only sister to take a hike. But he remembered this level of bitchiness. It’d happened with the last pregnancy so maybe it was just the hormones.
“We got you some presents.” Brantley tried to sound happy and not like he’d just got caught in the middle of a sibling shit-storm. He tied the balloons to the leg of the coffee table and took a couple of bags from the sofa. “The first one is from Vita.”
Clay’s hand hesitated in midreach.
“Vita saw us in town and said to give it to you but to be careful because it could break,” Brantley added.
Clay was certain that put a fresh scowl on his face, but he took the bag, looked inside and saw yet another crap-streaked chicken egg.
Brantley had a look at it, as well, though Clay doubted it was his first look. “Vita said the other one she gave you was too old and that you needed a fresh one.”
Even though he didn’t come out and ask, there was a definite question mark at the end of that information. Brantley and everyone else in town probably knew about Vita helping him with the feral chicken problem. Or rather what Vita considered to be helping. But Brantley must have guessed that if Clay didn’t volunteer anything, then it was a subject best not discussed.
But the first egg hadn’t exactly gotten old, not on his watch, anyway.
He’d tossed it the day Vita had brought it to his office, but Ellie had fished it out with the claim that she would keep it for him, that it wasn’t a good idea to diss Vita’s cures. So, Ellie had put it in double Ziploc bags and shoved it in the tiny freezer of the office fridge.
This one was going in the trash.
Clay put it aside for now and took the other bag, this one tagged from April and Brantley. There was a bottle of his favorite whiskey inside and an envelope.
“Now, don’t get mad,” Brantley said before Clay could open it.
Like the word surprise, that was not something he’d especially wanted to hear. At least it wouldn’t be news of April being knocked-up since she already was. And he doubted it was a divorce announcement since she was clinging like a vine to Brantley.
“It’s a subscription to a dating site,” April blurted out. She sounded considerably less bitchy than she had a couple of seconds ago. Maybe the shit-storm had passed. Maybe her hormones had leveled out.
“It was April’s idea,” Brantley quietly added.
No doubt. It was exactly the kind of thing his sister would do, and Clay would toss it out with the egg as soon as they left.
“It’s time you started dating again,” April went on, “now that things have cooled between Sophie and you.”
Things were never hot between Sophie and him. Well, they were, but only in a lustful sort of way. Hell, he’d never even kissed her.
Something he suddenly wished he’d done.
Clay frowned at that thought. He already had enough complications without adding his brother-in-law’s ex to the mix. Plus, Sophie hadn’t exactly stayed in touch or anything.
“The boys have gifts for you, too.” April made air quotes around gifts. “And I can’t wait for you to hear what Hunter told us.”
“He said he wanted to be a top like his Nunk Cay,” Brantley provided, followed by a laugh. “It was cute as all get-out.”
Cute, maybe, but also confusing. Clay got the Nunk Cay part because that was Hunter’s attempt at Uncle Clay. But it took him a second to realize that top was cop.
“No,” Clay snapped, a little sharper than he’d meant to. “You talk him out of that.” It made his stomach twist to think of a grown-up Hunter going through what he’d been through.
April rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. As if I’ve ever been able to talk Hunter out of anything. He’s like a mini version of me.”
He was, and that was even more reason to steer Hunter in another career direction. The next time he was at the bookstore, Clay would pick him up some kiddie doctor books. Lawyer books, too, if they published such a thing. Even books about cowboys. Anything but a cop.
“I’ll put the cake in the kitchen,” April volunteered. “We can cut it when the boys wake up. Oh, and we bought some steaks and burgers to grill for dinner.”
Clay thanked her and would have gone into his room to change if Brantley hadn’t caught onto his arm. “Can we talk?”
Hell. That was yet something else he hadn’t wanted to hear. “You’d better not be about to tell me that you’re dumping my sister.”
Brantley’s eyes widened to the size of salad plates. “No. Of course not. I love April. I love the boys, and I love our unborn child.”
“Good. And you’d better keep on loving them, or I’ll kick your ass into the next county.”
Brantley stared at him. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re scary?”
“All the time. And I also carry through on my threats.”
Clay waited. When Brantley didn’t say anything he asked, “Was that what you wanted to talk about—the threats?”
“Uh, no.” Brantley glanced into the kitchen as if to make sure April was still there. She was. “This is about Sophie.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I was, well, hoping you’d ask her out.”
Clay huffed. “First a dating site subscription and now this? I can handle my own love life.” Or lack thereof. “And didn’t you hear what your wife just said? She doesn’t want Sophie anywhere near her gene pool.”
Brantley huffed, too. “I’m not saying to ask Sophie out for your sake but for her own. She could be headed for some trouble.”
Until Brantley added that last part, Clay was about to tell him to mind his own business, but that got Clay’s attention. “Explain that.”
“Shane.” And Brantley must have thought that was enough of an explanation because he paused.
“Shane, the guy she’s got a date with tonight. Yeah, I know about it.” Clay had heard it from at least a dozen people who doled out sympathy over his and Sophie’s breakup. Apparently, Sophie was meeting this guy in a couple of hours at the Longhorn Bar at the end of Main Street.
“Shane Whitlock,” Brantley provided. He made another of those kitchen glances and leaned in closer. Clay was reasonably sure there was nothing Brantley could say that would interest him about Sophie’s date.
But Clay was wrong.
