Page 7 of Bull's Boy

Malcolm believed that too—right up until they were pulling out of the store’s parking lot and he realized they had a thirty-minute drive back to Knotting Pine and he’d never had a conversation with Bull outside of work.

Hell, the man barely spoke at work either.

Clearing his throat, Malcolm glanced over at the giant next to him and blurted out, “Um, so why do people call you Bull? Because you’re so big?”

The half of his face that Malcolm could see did something complicated as his humongous hands squeezed the steering wheel. “Uh. Kind of.”

When he didn’t clarify or give any more detail, Malcolm nibbled on his bottom lip, trying to come up with something else to talk about to occupy the time. “Do you like working with your mom?”

“Most of the time.” The two boulders otherwise known as Bull’s shoulders jostled up and down. “She doesn’t have… great boundaries.”

The pause was just enough to give him away, and Malcolm grinned as he turned a little more to face him. “Oh, really? In what way?” Bull shot him a stern look, but Malcolm wasn’t buying it and just started laughing. “You had to know I was going to ask!”

Coughing lightly, Bull shifted in his seat. “Like with personal stuff. Relationships and… whatnot.”

Relaxing even more, Malcolm was glad to have teasing Bull to focus on instead of the shitshow with his brother. He reached over and lightly punched Bull’s bicep, then jokingly shook out his hand like he’d hurt himself. “Does she set you up on blind dates with her friends’ daughters?”

Every muscle in Bull’s body seemed to tense, and the humor drained out of Malcolm. Oh shit. What had just happened?

“Sons.”

The gruff word was said just softly enough that Malcolm almost didn’t catch it, and then his eyebrows shot up. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were gay. Dahlia told me Sally was totally open to everyone when I started working there and that quite a few LGBTQ folks were employed at Bo’s but never went into specifics.”

Bull nodded slowly but didn’t say anything.

Feeling like he’d ruined the mood in the truck, he tried to segue back to how Sally lacked boundaries. “So your mom gets all up in your business about guys you date?”

One big shoulder shrugged again. “I don’t date very often, and neither does my brother. She says her and Ma are worried they’ll never get grandkids.”

The idea of a man Bull’s size taking care of a tiny baby was nearly ludicrous. But as he studied him for a moment, watching how he handled the big truck and thinking about all the times he’d stacked glasses or other breakables at Bo’s without issue, he realized Bull was more than gentle enough to handle a teeny newborn.

Malcolm had always wanted a big family. Growing up with a brother who terrorized him probably should have soured the idea for him, but it was the opposite. He wanted to have a wife and kids so bad he came off as too eager. But it was like… He wanted a do-over. A chance to make the family he’d always wanted and never had.

Voice softening, Malcolm asked, “Do you and your brother actually want kids?”

Bull’s lips tipped up. “I don’t think Marv does. He’s… very particular about things. I think a kid would be too messy and unpredictable.”

“And you?” He didn’t know why, but he really wanted to know the answer.

“I wouldn’t mind kids,” Bull said slowly, eyes glued to the empty road ahead of them. The fields on either side were full of lush green vegetation—mostly cornstalks but some soybeans as well. “With the right partner.”

“Yeah,” Malcolm said, unable to hold back his wistful sigh as he slumped back against his seat. “Finding that right person sure is the tricky part though, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes.”

“So what did we learn from this experience?” Dahlia asked him as she grabbed a tater tot from his plate before handing it to him.

Rolling his eyes, he dutifully said, “To listen to you when you say to cancel plans with my brother. Oh! And that Bull is great in a pinch to provide a rescue.”

Dahlia’s girlfriend, Becca, chuckled as she curled up on one end of their big comfy couch, already halfway through her burger. She was so tiny you expected her to eat daintily, but Malcolm had seen her outeat men twice her size without any problem. Tucking her long black hair behind her ear, she shook her head at Dahlia. “I can’t believe you made Bull pick him up and bring him home.”

“I couldn’t believe it either,” Malcolm said, balancing his plate on his lap and picking up his own burger. “I hadn’t seen the text about it and wasverysurprised to see him standing there glaring at Evan.”

“Ugh, Evan. He’s such a d-bag,” Dahlia said as she came back into the living room with her own plate of food and sat cross-legged on the couch right next to Becca. “I can’t believe some poor woman is marrying him.”

“She seems so nice and normal too,” Malcolm said, grimacing. “I don’t know what she sees in him at all.”

“Maybe he has hidden depths,” Becca said around a mouthful of food before wiping at her chin with her rolled-up sweatshirt sleeve. She’d once told him that getting to work from home in sweats was the pinnacle of all of her successes, even though her parents—who had immigrated from Japan and had worked incredibly hard for Becca and her siblings to have every opportunity—didn’t really understand the wholeremote workthing.

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