Page 30 of Rocky Mountain Home
The glib answer that would normally hit his lips—not that I know of—stuck in his throat, and now Jesse had another rock in his belly.
Had there ever been another accident somewhere over the years? He didn’t think so—at least not with anybody in the Rocky area, but he’d flirted and fucked his way through a lot of Alberta, and the thought he might unknowingly have more kids left him a little shaky.
Instead he answered the implied part of the question. “No one special in my life. I wasn’t with anyone back home, and I’ve been trying to…” What did he say? He’d hadn’t felt like joining the debauchery he’d normally thrived on? “There’s no one.”
“And your family?”
There was the million-dollar question.
“My family is fine, but I’m going to talk to Dare more before you and I start exchanging life histories. I just wanted you to know I’m in the picture. I’m not running.”
Because running doesn’t solve anything. His cousin’s parting shot before Jesse had gone and done exactly that.
He looked up to find Caleb standing less than a foot away.
“You sound like a decent guy.” Dare’s brother by choice looked him over, the lazy, half-hooded gaze hardening as a steely edge came into his eyes. “Don’t screw up with Dare.”
“I won’t.”
Caleb grunted and turned away.
Jesse walked the opposite direction, lost in thought. What he did had to be up to Dare as well, but if he was going to give up his position at Bar M to be close to her, he needed a way to make money. He’d have a family to support—
Another hard rock slid into his belly.
He wandered around a corner, jerking to a halt as he came face to face with a tall youth, obviously a younger brother of Caleb’s. His features were familiar—and when a hard gleam of anger swept across the young man’s expression, Jesse identified him as the irate door-banger from the day before.
“Dustin?”
The young man narrowed his eyes. “You.”
Jesse held out his hand. “Jesse Coleman. I want—”
Pain splintered his concentration. His eye throbbed and his cheek suddenly lit on fire.
What he wanted was for people to stop punching him in the face.
Dustin had moved without any warning, and while Jesse was usually more alert, it was because he hadn’t expected to get whaled on. Talking so reasonably with Caleb had set him off his guard, although he should have anticipated Dustin would go off half-cocked and use his fists instead of laying out a welcome mat.
Jesse backed away, raising his hands to a protective position even as he warned Morgan off from where he’d slid between them, teeth bared in warning at the newcomer. “You think I’m going to stand here and let you beat on me?”
Dustin bounced closer, fists at the ready. “You made Dare cry.”
“I didn’t know, but now that I do, I’m going to take care of her.”
“You don’t get to march in and do that. We’ll take care of her, like we always have. Go on and get the hell out of here.”
Dustin took another swing. This time Jesse dodged to the side, the kid’s fist sweeping past with a hell of a lot of force. “You’ve got some nice power behind that mitt, but if you do that again, I’m taking off the gloves and giving you some of your own medicine.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
A soothing quiet settled over Jesse as he stepped back and pulled off his shirt. In a way, this was what he needed. A hard, fast brawl would fix a lot of what was currently ailing him.
He and his brothers had done this many times. Frustrated? Upset? Find a reason to mix it up it and scrap until you got it out of your system.
He slammed a fist into Dustin’s gut before the kid had a chance to anticipate the blow, then reveled in the sound of his pained exhale.
The next moments were a blur of hands and elbows, curses flying as fast as their fists. The swearing was all on Dustin’s side. Jesse didn’t waste energy talking—it was more satisfying to figure out where and how to land another punch then watch Dustin reel backward.
