Page 11 of Wrapped Up in Holly

The Hart Family Farm was truly family run. My parents still worked, though they were getting up in age. Holly did the marketing outreach and all of our social media campaigns. Aiden took care of the money, payroll, and taxes, and the rest of my siblings pitched in whenever they could. But I was the one in charge now.

I was the one up at six every morning. I was the one who trudged in the front door after six every night. And I was the one who relied on my wife to do everything with the house and our children. It was unsustainable. I knew that. But I didn’t know what exactly to do about it.

“You’re extra pissed off this morning,” Tristan noted from his spot on the floor where he was unknotting a string of lights.

I grunted his way.

“Is it because of whatever’s going on with Holly?” Aiden guessed, and I whipped my head toward him. He removed hisglasses, wiping them off on his sweatshirt then placed them back on the bridge of his nose. “What?”

“How do you know what’s going on with me and Holly?”

“Dude, everybody knows,” Ryan said, hands on his hips.

All three of my younger brothers stared at me, waiting for an explanation, but I wasn’t about to give it to them. I’d always kept my feelings close to my chest. With six younger brothers and sisters, there were finite amounts of time and attention, so I learned to mind my own business and take care of myself. I never talked to my family about what was going on in my personal life. I could handle it on my own. And they knew better than to question me about it.

“I ask again, how the fuck do you know what’s going on with me and Holly?”

Tristan, the youngest—by mere minutes—but most emotionally competent, said, “Even if Rosie didn’t tell me, it’s written all over your face.”

“Rosie?” I huffed.

“I think Rosie heard it from Julie,” Aiden said.

“Julie?” I threw my arms out. Julie lived in Texas. “How the hell does she know?”

Ryan shrugged. “How does she know anything?”

Julie was a journalist, which really meant she was a pain in the ass. When she was a kid, she used to write up weekly articles and print them off, handing them out to everyone in the family. There were updates on what we were all was doing, who was fighting, like Ryan and Aiden, who was doing what in school, like Claire acing her test, and who was sneaking off, like me and Holly.

Back then, she was a little gossip. Now, she was a big gossip and a pain in my ass.

I dug my phone out of my pocket to text her, to tell her to shut her mouth, but before I could, Holly stalked into the barn, her own cell in her hand.

Her big brown eyes settled on me. I smiled, but she didn’t return it. Then she looked to my brothers. “You mind if I take some pictures? Thought it would be good to post some behind the scenes stuff.”

Aiden shrugged. Tristan didn’t answer. Ryan waved for her to come closer. He was a ham.

“You still good to sign some gear for the giveaway?” she asked as she raised her phone up.

He grinned, leaning against a decorative red sled. “Yep.”

He played shortstop for the Cleveland Rocks, an exhibition baseball team that was known for more theatrics than actual baseball. The kid was a mini celebrity, and he used his “fame” to its fullest potential.

Holly snapped a few more photos of him and then some of Aiden and Tristan working together. I watched her step this way and that, framing up the photos she wanted, bending at the waist so her long plaid shirt shifted, revealing her ass in tight fitted jeans.

“Perfect,” she said, offering my brothers a smile that pissed me off. “Thanks.”

I caught her elbow as she strode to the doors. “You don’t want any of me?”

She appraised me with a raised eyebrow. “Since when do you want your picture taken?”

“Since it’s the only time I can hold your attention.”

“Nowyou want my attention?” She crossed her arms under her breasts, and it had been so long since we’d had sex, my brain momentarily blanked at the thought of getting my hands on her.

“I always do,” I said, drawing closer to her, but she shook her head.

Our latest counseling appointment had included talking about how we could spend more time together. It didn’t resolve anything, although it did reveal how much I’d been neglecting our marriage for the farm. But I was focused on supporting Holly and our girls. I worked hard to give them whatever they needed.

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