Page 6 of Take My Love
I grew up with horses and love riding, but I don’t want to work with them all day.
My dream would be to fix up one of the older barns to house the goats and then open an online goat soap business. Since we give each guest at the resort a welcome self-care basket, it’d be another item to include as well, which would also help promote it. We could sell wholesale stock to retailers and so much more. There are plenty of small businesses in town that’d love to sell it.
Mom’s all for it and told me she’ll approve it even if Dad doesn’t. But I don’t think that’s going to be an issue. He wants to make sure this is something I truly want to do and not invest in something I’ll get bored of in six months.
“Maybe your brothers can help with gettin’ that old barn restored this summer,” Mom suggests after asking if Dad has given me an answer. Although he hasn’t, she’s convinced he will.
“That’d be nice since I have no knowledge of that sorta thing,” I respond.
“I can’t wait to cuddle all the baby goats,” Aunt JoJo gushes, and I laugh.
“Me too.”
Aunt Josephine’s the chef and manager at the Summit View Restaurant on the resort side. She lives in the garage that my dad and brothers turned into an apartment for her after my uncle died.
When it’s apparent that Warren isn’t coming, I offer to go look for him. Everyone’s in the dining room, waiting to eat, and he’s nowhere to be found.
I’m shocked when I find Silas’s truck beside Warren’s and contemplate knocking or not. Silas and I haven’t talked much since the wedding weekend—mostly because I have nothing to say to him—but every time I see him, I’m reminded of our night together that he doesn’t remember.
Before I approach, the trailer door swings open, and I’m greeted by a scowl.
“What’re you doin’ here?” Warren snaps, throwing an empty beer can toward the trash bin before placing a ballcap on his head.
“You’re late,” I tell him, folding my arms and returning his attitude.
“That’s my fault,” Silas says, coming up behind him. “I didn’t realize the time.”
When my gaze reaches his, I swallow hard at the sincere way he’s looking at me.
But I ignore it.
“Go figure,” I mutter. “Let’s go.”
They silently follow me to the house but when Silas walks past me to get to his chair, his arm brushes my shoulder andsends an unwanted shiver down my spine. Instead of reacting, I pretend he doesn’t exist during dinner, even when I feel his heated gaze on me.
Although everyone’s ignoring the elephant in the room, I notice how much Warren drinks during the party. By the time Mom brings out the cake and we sing to the twins, he’s on his fifth beer. He had at least one beforehand, so he’s probably had over half a dozen by now.
He’s the only one of our siblings who’s legally allowed to have alcohol but Dad usually has some stocked in the fridge.
By the time the twins have ripped open every gift and left to play their new video games, Warren is half-passed out on the couch. Silas gets him to his feet but then stumbles with Warren’s dead weight.
“Here, let me help,” I quickly offer, standing against Warren’s other side and wrapping his arm around me so I can hold him up.
“I’m fine,” Warren slurs, barely keeping his eyes open.
“We better leave before my parents see him like this,” I tell Silas.
They’re cleaning up in the kitchen, and I usually help, but I was too concerned about Warren to leave him out here.
“Where’re we goin’?” Warren’s head bobbles from side to side as we shuffle through the back door.
“To your house so you can sleep off the killer hangover you’re gonna have in the mornin’,” I tell him.
“I’m not hungover…” he argues.
“Not yet,” I mumble, hanging onto him tighter.
Silas and I manage to open the trailer door and get himinside without the three of us falling. Warren collapses on his bed with a grunt.
