Page 82 of Brett and Rowdy
Ouch.
“I hear you.”
“I would hope so. I wasn’t being real subtle.”
He rolled his eyes. “No, no you weren’t. You are the least subtle Southerner I’ve ever met.”
“Daddy says that’s because I’m a cowgirl, not a debutante, although I was, you know?”
He vaguely remembered hearing Dan bitch about that a few years ago. “Were you?”
“Yep, wore the whole white dress and everything, but I had cowboy boots on underneath.”
“I bet you did. And who was your date?”
She gave him a sparkling grin. “Who else would have been my date? That was my daddy.”
Lord, have mercy.
She wandered off, leaving him sitting in the kitchen drinking his coffee.
Rowdy was giving an interview online to some magazine on the West Coast. His dad was at some auction in Texas picking up cattle, and Brett figured he had some decisions to make.
Thing was, they shouldn’t be hard decisions.
He loved Rowdy. He always had, and he knew it now. He loved the forge, he loved this place, he loved the mountains. He loved the idea that there was going to be snow. Hell, he even loved that smart-assed kid. So why was he hesitating?
Maybe it was because Rowdy hadn’t actually asked.
Sure Rowdy had talked to him about how he was perfectly happy if Brett stayed, and he knew that Rowdy wanted him.
There was nothing wrong with their sex life, especially after Rowdy had made it known he was neglecting that just a little bit spending all the time he did down at the forge.
And he knew that Rowdy was just as practical as Madison. His cowboy wasn’t one for great declarations, but he wasn’t one hundred percent sure the guy was in love with him. What if he was just in deep like?
Brett wasn’t sure if that was something to hang a relationship on, and he didn’t want to be a user. He didn’t want anyone to say he loved Rowdy for his forge and his ranch.
He didn’t, but sometimes it probably felt that way.
He glanced down at Mr. Mann, who was lying on his foot on the floor hoping that he dropped something besides coffee.
Everyone should have someone who looked at them the way that Mr. Mann looked at toast or potatoes.
“I don’t know, buddy. What do you think? Do you think we ought to live here full time?”
Mr. Mann’s tail flapped on the floor, and he panted. It wasn’t a no…
“Yeah, I know. You would hang out and eat Rose’s cooking twenty-four seven here.” He leaned down to rub Mr. Mann’s ears, and then suddenly he was surrounded by two or three of the German shepherds, pushing right in. “Y’all wanting your scritches too?”
Brett sucked down the rest of his coffee. “Come on, you lot. Let’s go find your dad.”
He would go see if Rowdy was done with his call or meeting or whatever the heck it was.
It was time to find out if Rowdy would be all right with him hitching his wagon to Rowdy’s and moving his stuff here. He could either hang on to his own land and rent it to Crystal, who would really love to be able to move out of her own crappy place.
Something about just selling it outright didn’t sit well with him—not because he wanted to be able to go back there, but because it had belonged to his family for so long.
Who knew? If Madison had tons of kids, they might want it someday. They would have half their family from there, right?
