Colt rolled his eyes and bent low over the books. Goddamn it. He wished they’d all quit asking like he was doomed to somehow screw this up. He wasn’t aware that by dating Beth Ann, he was somehow ruining the American dream for the whole f**king town.
Well, okay, maybe he’d known that a little. It just gave him a bit of added pleasure.
The door to the lodge opened and Colt glanced up, then groaned.
His younger brother, Berry, stood there. He wore a dirty T-shirt that hung from his lanky frame, and jeans that were so ripped and stained that they should have been tossed out. Unkempt, shaggy hair stuck out from under the John Deere cap on his head.
Colt threw down the pencil in his hand. He was tired, annoyed, and the last thing he needed was one of his brothers showing up and starting shit.
“Hey, Berry,” Dane said easily. “How you doing? Long time no see.”
“Howdy, Dane. Good to see you here.” Berry leaned over and clapped hands with Dane, his expression easy. “I should be asking for your autograph.”
Dane grinned. “Nah, man. It’s all good. I’m old and retired now.”
Brenna entered a moment later, and Berry’s gaze turned to her as she sat down at her desk. She wore a short, hot pink skirt that he could have sworn she’d worn as a tube top last week, and had tied a flannel T-shirt at her waist. Her curling, crazy hair was loose around her shoulders. He was pretty sure she was wearing bunny slippers, too. Brenna was odd, but cute enough. “Grant’ll be back in a minute, guys. He’s taking a few final pictures to update the brochures.”
“Well, hello,” Berry said, moving to Brenna’s desk.
She gave him a cheerful, oblivious smile. “Hello.”
“I’m Berry.”
She looked up and tilted her head, her smile confused. “Like…the flavor?”
“It’s short for Beretta,” Dane said cheerfully. “Go on, ask what his other brother’s names are.”
Colt gritted his teeth. “Do we really—”
“You know Colt,” Berry said. “Got another brother named Winchester. We all call him Chester. Got a brother Marlin, and another brother named Browning.”
Brenna gave him a confused look. “And…those are all guns?”
“All guns,” he said proudly.
She couldn’t stifle her giggle. “Well, that’s—um—interesting.”
“You want to see the kind of heat I’m packin’?”
Brenna’s face squished up in distaste.
“Berry,” Colt barked, standing up. “Get out of here if you’re going to harass our employees.”
Berry straightened and gave Brenna a wink that made her roll her eyes. “Actually,” he said, swaggering over to where Colt sat. “I came to see you. Dad’s looking for you.”
“He knows where I’m at,” Colt said, voice clipped. He picked up the pencil again, trying to look busy. “I have no interest in seeing him.”
Berry frowned, adjusting his cap. “It ain’t right that you don’t want to visit your family, Colt. Dad keeps asking about you. You should go see him.”
“If I wanted to see him, I’d go visit,” Colt bit out. “I don’t need you coming over here to try and shame me into visiting.”
“We’re your family.”
He looked at Berry’s dirty clothes and ragged hair. Like he could forget where he’d come from. White-trash Waggoners. “I know,” he said in a flat voice.
Berry scowled at him. “Asshole. The old man just wants to see you. But I guess you’re too good for everyone now.” He turned to the door.
Colt said nothing, turning his attention back to the log sheets in front of him until the lodge door slammed shut.
He’d known that moving back to Bluebonnet meant his family trying to get in touch with him. That didn’t mean that he had to play along.
“What was that all about?” Brenna asked, her voice full of wonder.
“Just family drama,” Dane said easily. “Nothing that Colt wants to talk about.”
Damn right he didn’t.
“Lucy, sit up straight,” Jeanette said for the third time that hour. She smiled out to the others at their table, while poor Lucy fidgeted again. Lucy wore a demure, white-ruffled dress that made her look twelve instead of seventeen, and Jeanette had made Lucy remove all earrings before they’d headed to the country club. As part of her punishment, Beth Ann had to cover all the colorful streaks in Lucy’s hair, and she was blond once more.
Today, her father had thrown a fund-raising party for his friend, a local republican senator. The entire family was on display, including Beth Ann. The “save me” looks Lucy kept throwing in her direction were useless, considering that Beth Ann couldn’t save herself.
“I cannot believe you are wearing white shoes after Labor Day, Beth Ann,” her mother hissed, and then gave a smiling wave to a friend that passed by their table. “What about those pretty shoes Allan gave you? It went perfectly with your pink dress.”
Her mother had loved the Louboutins. And she was right, the pink and yellow Louboutins had matched her light pink sheath with yellow piping perfectly, but she’d given the shoes to Miranda two days ago. She’d paired the dress with white heels and a white shrug instead. “They’re white shoes, Jeanette. It’s not like I showed up barefoot.”
Though Colt would have smiled if she had. She flushed with warmth just thinking about him. She hadn’t talked to him in three days—his latest overnight trip. She missed him. He should be coming in soon. Maybe he’d call her and they could get together.
Or maybe he was done with her after that scene with Allan and didn’t want to bother anymore? Her heart twinged painfully at the thought. He’d invited her to sleep over tonight, but that invite had gone out days ago. What if he’d had a change of heart after being away from her for a few days? He didn’t like drama, and her life seemed to be full of it.
“I’m so disappointed Allan won’t make it today,” Jeanette murmured to her.
Beth Ann wasn’t. It was the only reason she’d agreed to come to the luncheon.
“Do you know anything about that?” her mother asked, turning to her.
Two black eyes, Beth Ann wanted to say. He won’t show his face until he looks handsome again. She knew Allan all too well.