Page 76 of Brett and Rowdy

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Chapter Seventeen

“So, what’s the deal with you and this boy?”

“Well, that was delicate, Dad.” Really, Rowdy wasn’t going to pretend to be surprised. He’d been waiting for his dad to ask for a week and a half. He was kind of hoping Dad would wait for even longer, because to be honest, he didn’t have an answer either.

Brett seemed perfectly happy. He was working—and not in the kind of casual sort of way, but in that twelve-hours-a-day sort of way. The man was shoeing horses and working hooves for four or five hours in the early morning, and then he went to the forge and he started banging.

Metal supplies were coming in hot and heavy, and when Brett came back from the forge, he was sweaty and gross and happy as a pig in shit.

Horny too, which was kind of nice, but really, the man seemed fine.

Happy.

“You don’t pay me to be delicate, boy. Seriously, what’s the deal? Is he staying? Is he going? Is he moving in? Are y’all a thing? Is he just a fuck buddy? What do you tell Madison?”

“I didn’t tell Madison anything.”

That wasn’t exactly true, because Madison was disturbingly upfront about things like sex lives. In fact, it was kind of terrifying and nauseating, and he didn’t want to know about the predilections of the boy she was dating either. He listened because he was a good dad and modern and up-to-date and shit.

It still made him want to barf.

“I don’t know if he’s moving in. We haven’t quite gotten that far. We’re still at the getting to really know one another part. But he’s happy, he’s working, he’s—hell, he’s taken over the farrier position. So why are you pitching a bitch?”

“Have you gotten stupid? At what point did I do anything that sounded even vaguely like a bitch? I was asking questions because somebody is living in our house now.”

Oh, now Dad sounded all mad.

“You going to ask a bunch of questions when Maddie moves her boy in?” he shot back.

“No, I’m gonna ask you a bunch of questions, and the questions are going to start with why are you letting that girl have a boy live here when they ain’t married?”

“When did you get to be like a scary old fucker? You’re what, sixty? Do you remember the wild ’70s?” Dad didn’t have a right to sit there, acting like he’d never had women coming in and out of this house…

“Don’t make me beat you, boy.”

“I mean, seriously, weren’t you ever like a hippie? A swinger?” He had to tease. Had to.

“Watch your mouth.”

He licked his lips, fighting his chuckles. “Yep, you’ve just gotten old and crotchety in your ancient age.”

Dad snorted, clucking his tongue against the top of his mouth. “Why exactly do I let you live here, again?”

Oh, that was easy. “Because, Dad, I’m an amazing cowboy. Because I am good with the horses and with the hands. Not only that, you get one hell of a tax rebate because I’m blind.”

“Yeah. That last one makes sense anyway.”

Their joint chuckles started low and slow, and then just filled the air up like the smell of bacon.

“All right. At any rate, my point was, I like him. He can stay, no? But I do think it’s weird that y’all haven’t said nothing to each other about what’s what. I mean, doesn’t he have a house? Stuff that he’s wanting back, his art and shit?”

“I think that’s what he’s doing down at the forge.” Rowdy sighed and twisted his mouth up. “I got to tell you. It’s really weird that I can’t go out there and look.”

“You haven’t looked at anything for damn near?—”

He groaned. “You shut up, old man. You know what I mean? It’s totally because it’s not easy to get down there, that’s all. I just, it’s not very often that there’s something that’s going on at the ranch that I can’t access at all.”

“Well, have you asked him?”