Page 27 of The Holiday Heartbreaker

It was packed out, in spite of the fact that it was a Sunday. Because there was nothing else to do in this whole area. And there were many people who lived in the mountains around these parts who came down to party nightly. It wasn’t exactly a thriving singles scene, but “lucky them” women traveled to hit this bar. The kind that were after working men. Cowboys. A good time.

There was a passel of pretty women over by the jukebox, and he did his best to try and rouse some interest up inside of himself.

“Beer?” Lachlan asked.

“Sure,” he said, walking over to a table in the corner. He would watch for a minute. See what he was in the mood for. It wasn’t just about hair color or bra size or anything like that. He liked to get the feel for how a woman danced. If she was loud or quiet. The ringleader of the group or the wallflower.

All were valid.

What he was interested in was just dependent on his mood.

Lachlan returned a moment later with a beer.

“So, are you going to tell me what spurred the last-minute outing?”

“Nope.”

“Does it have something to do with Elizabeth?”

“Where’s your cute little shadow?” Brody pressed.

Lachlan scowled. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Well. It’s a valid question.”

“Sure,” Lachlan said, his lip curled. “If you want to get punched in the face.”

“I’m a few hits behind, Lach, you might as well clock me one.” He let that joke sit between them. Sometimes, it was funny. Their dysfunctional childhood. The fact that their dad had never once hit him while he had used the others for a punching bag. And not just the kids. Their mother.

At least, before she’d run off and left them. She should have taken the other boys.

Should have left Brody alone.

Brody would’ve been fine.

“I’m not about to punch out my wingman. Her dad’s not doing well,” he said, looking down into his beer. “I should go over there...”

“Her dad’s a nice guy,” he said.

“Yeah,” Lachlan agreed. “Never minded my ass hanging around. Most fathers would’ve been a little bit suspicious.”

“And you two have really never...”

Lachlan’s knuckles tightened around his beer. “Absolutely not. That is like asking if I’ve ever masturbated to a picture of the Virgin Mary.”

Brody spit his beer out over the top of his glass. “Please. Don’t ever put that image in my head. Ever.”

“Well. You don’t go asking questions like that. Charity is my friend. My best friend. And that is another reason she isn’t here tonight. You may have noticed, but I don’t like to include her in my bad behavior.”

“Fair.”

“I want her to respect me in the morning.”

“Something you don’t have to worry about with your hookups.”

Lachlan smiled, but there wasn’t a lot of humor there. “That’s the best part about them.”

He lifted a glass in salute, and Brody lifted his own and clinked it against the edge of his brother’s.

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