Page 40 of Hand Picked
“Webb! I heard you’re getting married, brother!Mazel tov.”
“What?” I blinked away from a horrifying mental image of Luke trying to balance a ladder on his fucking roof to find my laptop screen had gone dark, the sun had fully set, and my brother Porter—the fourth Sunday sibling—was leaning against my office doorframe wearing a sly smile and a Hannabury College baseball cap.
“Hey.” I ran a hand over my face. “When’d you get home, shit stirrer?”
“About an hour ago.” Porter’s face split into a playful grin that reminded me of our father. “And I think you meant to say, ‘Porter, my favorite brother, I missed you! I’m so glad you chose to come home for the weekend.’”
“Did I?” I asked dryly, tilting my chair to stretch out my cramped back muscles.
“Yup. To which I would reply that I couldn’tnotcome home when I heard that my favorite brother had such big news,” he teased. “I’m surprised Reed didn’t fly in from DC for the occasion so all us Sundays could be together! Aiden’s teacher’s gonna make an honest man of you, eh? Is that what you were woolgathering about just now?”
“Please.” I huffed out a breath.Woolgatheringwas spot-on, though.
I’d come home, got caught up with Aiden, hearing every detail of his sleepover and giving him the thrilling news that his mom would be taking him to hockey practice from now on, and then sat down to reply to an email from my accountant…
And instead, I’d googled slate roofs, Vermont inheritance laws, and Romeldale sheep before daydreaming about Luke.
But I was sure as fucknottelling my mischief-making brother any of that.
“You know, I swear I remember you telling Knox thathewas your favorite brother back at Christmas,” I said instead. “For, quote, ‘giving you the gift of a brilliant brother-in-law named Gage.’”
“Oooh. You remember that, huh?Awkward. But a man can have more than one favorite, Webb,” he said fake-solemnly. “And nowyou’regiving me a brother-in-law, and I’m sure he’s equally cool.”
I thought about Luke, waxing rhapsodic about hydroponics, explaining bunk-boarding (or whatever the kinky colonials called it), and demanding that all hockey players be freed from the plastic boxes.
Hewascool, in the un-coolest, most fascinating way possible.
But I didn’t tell Porter about any of that either.
“Did you seriously come home just to give me shit?” I demanded.
“Nah. That’s just a side benefit. I actually came home specifically so Gage can help me not fail my class. But when I got here, Uncle Drew filled me in on the whole handfasting thing while I taste-tested his cinnamon rolls.” He leaned forward. “Ten out of ten, by the way. Porter-approved.”
I snorted. “I’m sure. What’s up with your class?” I demanded.
He rolled his eyes. “Of course that’s the one part of that statement you heard. Chill, Webb. It’s nothing you need to worry about. My professor is a pain in my ass, but whatever.” He brushed a hand through the air dismissively. “I’m not Aiden, okay? I’m a big boy, and I’ve got it under control.”
“Yeah, I know.” I ran my tongue over my molar and forced myself not to reply further. The truth was, I sometimes felt more like a parent than a brother to Porter—and to Hawk and Emma, too—which made sense since our dad had died when Porter was just sixteen, and Uncle Drew and I had been the ones who took care of them. But I had to remind myself that I couldn’t protect him from everything… just like I couldn’t protect Aiden from everything.
Still, I couldn’t help clarifying. “School’s going okay, then?”
“Yes. Fine. Mostly,” Porter said impatiently. Then his quicksilver grin reappeared, and he settled more comfortably against the wall. “But enough about me. Let’s talk aboutyouand what’s going on inyourworld.”
“My world,” I mused. The leather of my chair creaked as I got comfortable. “There’s a lot, Porter. Do you want to know what’sreallygoing on?”
“Fuck yeah. Tell me everything, especially about Lu—”
“Well, the good news,” I said, speaking over him, “is that I think my custody suit is going to be settled soon because I agreed to Amanda having visitation, starting next week.”
“Oh,” Porter said, sobering. “Shit.”
“Mmm. Aiden lost his other front tooth finally, which is great, because Murray told me Aiden offered him five bucks to pull it with pliers.”
“Ooof. That’s something I would have tried.”
“Itissomething you tried,” I corrected him. “Muriel’s calving in four weeks, which means sleepless nights in my future. Maple sugaring is starting next week, and I’ve got a Scout troop, a school class, and a group from the senior center in Two Rivers booked, but it looks like I’m gonna have to lead the demonstrations myself since Gwen’s baby came early. Uncle Drew keeps saying his attacks of breathlessness are just because he’s out of shape, but I’m not sure—”
“Christ, Webb—”
