Stay With Me (Sugarland Creek Book 2): Chapter 13

Witnessing my three brothers drag their asses into our parents’ house for Sunday night supper is amusing. With the amount they drank at Noah and Fisher’s joint bachelor/bachelorette party at the Twisted Bull last night, it’s no surprise they’re still feeling it.

The guys went to dinner at Antonio’s Seafood House first, while the girls had their own dinner celebration. Once we finished eating, we hopped on the party bus, picked them up, and then went to the bar.

Since Magnolia and I are keeping quiet, we acted the same as we normally do so no one suspected anything. I held her drinks while she danced and resisted touching her every time she was within arm’s length. Except when she left to use the bathroom, I waited in the dimly lit hallway and then stole a kiss when no one was around.

But as I watched her from across the bar, I felt this strong urge to text Billy and tell him all about how I finally confessed my feelings to Magnolia. Although I hadn’t outright told him, he made comments about how I looked at her and nudged me to ask her out even during the years she was on and off with Travis. Even he knew her ex wasn’t good enough for her and part of me wished I’d listened. But the other part wonders if we would’ve been too young and immature to know how to make our relationship work back then. Perhaps we were meant to wait until we were at the same stages of our lives to put in the right amount of effort to have a real one.

“Hello, boys!” Noah nearly shouts as they approach the table. “So nice of you to join us!”

“Dude, lower your voice.” Wilder winces, covering his ears.

“What’s the matter?” I match Noah’s volume, leaning back in my chair with a smug grin.

Fisher chuckles as Noah and I taunt them. Although they’re the future newlyweds, they didn’t get crazy drunk. However, they both took a turn on the mechanical bull last night, and I’m halfway surprised Noah didn’t show up with a concussion after face-planting the mat.

At least I didn’t have to worry about Magnolia in that area because she refuses to get on it. Since I wasn’t getting drunk, there was no way I was riding it either, but we all enjoyed watching my brothers act like dumbasses.

Once everyone’s seated at the table, Gramma Grace and Mom bring all the food platters to the table, and Dad carries the pitcher of sweet tea.

“Surprised y’all showed up for work this mornin’, to be honest,” he says, pouring drinks.

“Didn’t know it wasn’t an option not to,” Waylon mutters.

Even though the twins are almost thirty years old, they still party like they’re twenty-one. One of these days, it’s going to catch up to them. After countless beers and shots, I had to nearly carry them out of my truck and walk them to their doors. They live in one of the ranch hand duplexes next to Landen and me, so at least it wasn’t out of my way, but goddamn, I thought they were gonna nosedive on the sidewalk and choke on their own vomit they were stumbling so much.

“It ain’t,” Dad confirms.

Mallory giggles as Waylon makes a sour face at his response.

Not every day is a full workload, but each morning we’re expected to muck stalls and feed the horses. Guests stay at the retreat seven days a week, so there’s always a full staff on board and plenty of chores to be done.

“Let’s say the blessing,” Mom says once she takes her seat next to Dad’s.

Gramma Grace offers to say it, and we bow our heads. She blesses the food, each family member, and Noah’s upcoming nuptials. Then she takes us all by surprise when she ends it with, “And let there be a new baby in the family before the end of the year. Amen.”

“Gramma Grace!” Noah scolds, but she’s smiling wide.

“What? I didn’t specify any names.” She shrugs innocently, and my mom smiles. I’m sure she’d love nothing more than to be a grandma.

“Let us enjoy being married first.”

It’s still a little weird to me that she’s marrying her ex’s dad, who’s literally twice her age. If they have a kid soon, that means his oldest child and his youngest will be twenty-five years apart. Weird.

But as long as they’re happy and he treats my sister the way she deserves, I wouldn’t care if they had ten babies.

Assuming she doesn’t ask me to babysit every weekend.

Although I probably would since it’d be better than playing DD bitch to my brothers.

I’d just have to learn how to change diapers, feed a baby, and about everything else that comes with taking care of one.

And of course, I’d be the favorite uncle.

“Callin’ dibs on godfather!” Landen shouts randomly after we’ve all filled our plates with homemade macaroni and cheese with fried steak and gravy. My dad’s favorite.

“You can’t do that!” Waylon flings a roll at his head. “Plus, it’s tradition the eldest brother gets that title first.”

“What?” Wilder gasps. “You’re older by like two minutes! I should be an option.”

“Too bad, I already called it.” Landen gloats like the idiot he is.

“I’m not giving any of you that title to my unconceived child.” Noah rolls her eyes.

Fisher laughs, joining in on the fun. “I just imagine our little girl growing up with a much older brother and four uncles. God help her.”

“And me!” Mallory chimes in. “I get to be godmother, right?”

“You’ll haveta fight Magnolia for that title.” I chuckle. Considering she’s the maid of honor, there’s no way those two haven’t already decided on everything else growing up. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have their baby names picked out, too.

As if she heard me say her name from her apartment twenty miles away, my phone vibrates in my pocket and her name pops up on the screen with a text message. We’re not supposed to text during supper, but seeing as everyone’s occupied with a baby that doesn’t exist, I keep my phone in my lap and click on the screen.

Jesus Christ.

Goddamn her.

Just the thought of that has my hand balling into a fist.

I know they’re only friends, but that doesn’t mean I want him to have access to those photos anymore.

We’ve already discussed hanging out again this upcoming week, but now I’m tempted to ditch early and drive over to her place.

But I can’t because we’re all being forced to stay for scrapbooking after we eat. It’s a tradition Mom and Gramma Grace started a while ago. Usually, my brothers and I get out of it, but lately, I’ve been staying since I don’t see them as much anymore. With all the wedding planning, the second annual fundraiser our family hosted this past summer, and keeping busy with ranch work, we’ve all been scattered.

With tomorrow being Monday and traditionally the most chaotic of the week, I know I won’t even get home until seven or eight.

I can’t help the goofy smile that spreads across my face at how needy she sounds. I know we should be taking it slow, but we already know so much about each other. The time couples take for the talking stage and getting to know each other has long passed for us. Even if I don’t know every little detail about her, I’m excited to find out more each time we hang out.

Before I can respond, she sends a photo that shows off the top of a see-through lacy bralette and the bottom half of her face. She’s biting down on a finger with a smirk around it.

That little fucking tease.

“Is your food okay, Tripp?”

I snap my head up and catch Mom glaring at me and my still-full dinner plate.

“Yeah, it’s great.” I grin, grabbing my fork and diving in.

As quietly as I can, I slide my phone back into my pocket and focus on eating. Magnolia’s about to be tortured from waiting for my response. But considering she has me sitting with a boner at the table surrounded by family, she can suffer right along with me.

Once we finished dessert, Noah and Mom grab the bins, and we get started.

Typically, I work on whatever book my mom needs me to, but tonight I decide to start a new one for me. And Magnolia.

But no one has to know that yet.

“Only six days until y’all say I do!” Mom smiles wide as a spread of scrapbooking supplies covers the table.

“Which means you still have time to run!” Wilder tells Fisher.

Noah whips a roll of washi tape at his head. “Dude!”

Wilder ducks just in time and laughs.

“You’re in the weddin’, moron. Though I’m not sure why.” Noah groans.

I swear, those two have always fought more than any of us did growing up. Though it’s no secret they’re complete opposites. Noah’s a stickler for schedules and planning while Wilder’s set on causing destruction wherever he goes.

“Because I’m your favorite brother.” Wilder gloats, but the rest of us laugh at his delusional thinking.

“Between you and my ex as part of the groomsmen, I’m already nervous, so don’t make it worse!” She scowls at him.

“Me?” Wilder feigns offense. “Y’all should be worried about Landen. He’s the one who punched Jase in the face. Wouldn’t be surprised if a brawl takes place at the reception.”

“That was over a year ago,” Landen reminds him. “He learned the hard way that I have brass knuckles, and I doubt he’d need a reminder.”

I shake my head at his arrogance. The only reason that fight started in the first place is because he was yelling and pushing Noah. The four of us immediately jumped in to get him to back off.

“We have the best family conversations,” Waylon muses as he continues decorating pages.

“You sure you wanna join this, Fisher?” I tease.

“Well, they always say you don’t just marry your spouse. You’re marryin’ their family, too. So I knew what I was gettin’ into before I proposed.” He smiles at Noah like she’s his whole world.

A week ago, that look would make me roll my eyes.

Now, I can’t wait to scream from the rooftops that Magnolia and I are dating so I can have that same look.

“Aww…you two are gross.” Landen mimics a gagging noise.

“They have the best love story ever!” Mallory chimes in as she fights with a piece of ribbon glued to her fingers. “Just like the Taylor Swift song.”

“That’s right.” Noah grins at her. “Get ready to dance to her music all night long.”

“What?” All four of us brothers shriek in unison.

Noah barks out a laugh as Fisher keeps his expression flat. I have a feeling he didn’t have much say in the music options or he simply doesn’t care as long as Noah’s happy. But if I know Fisher and have witnessed enough of their relationship over the past year and a half, it’s definitely the latter.

“Please tell me it’s an open bar,” Wilder says, groaning.

“It is for everyone except my brothers.”

“Liar.” Wilder snorts.

Noah blows out a frustrated breath as she focuses on her book. “Maybe we shoulda eloped,” she tells Fisher.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Mom pats her hand. “Damien and your dad will keep an eye out on your brothers. If they get too rowdy, they’ll be escorted out.”

This is obviously news to us, but Wilder and Landen gawk at the announcement. Damien’s Fisher’s childhood best friend, a scary-looking detective, and has about a hundred pounds of muscle on us.

“I think not,” Wilder demands. “When everyone’s bored from your sad-girl music and sappy love speeches, you’ll be thankin’ me for bringing the party to the dance floor with my moves. Plus, think how good I’m gonna look in a suit, too. All the chicks are gonna want some.”

I snort at how confident he sounds. “And every one of ’em you’ll be related to, dumbass.”

“Swear word!” Mallory shouts, then holds out her palm.

A few months ago, she started making us pay her five bucks anytime she caught us cussing.

I’m at least fifty bucks in the red.

I dig in my back pocket for my wallet and then hand her a twenty. “Here, I’m paid up for three more.”

Dad scowls in my direction, but I ignore it considering the twins are in the hole enough to practically buy her a car.

“I won’t be related to all of them,” Wilder defends. “And who’s to say you can’t find your soulmate with your second or third cousin?” He laughs because even he knows he sounds ridiculous.

“My great-aunt Polly married her cousin,” Gramma Grace says, and we all snap our gazes toward her.

“Who?” Mom asks, clearly unaware of this, which makes it even more entertaining.

“Uncle Freddy. They were second cousins by blood. Got married and went on to have seven boys,” Gramma Grace explains.

“Well, see, now that explains a lot about the bloodline.” Noah chuckles, then adds, “Because it only affected the double X chromosomes.”

“God, our family is weird.” Landen shakes his head. “First, Gramma Grace married her pastor-teacher twice her age and now we learn we’re all incested.”

I snort at his dramatics, but it is funny. Especially seeing Mom’s horrified expression.

Last year, Gramma Grace shared the story of how she met our grandfather and it’s safe to say we were all surprised. And even more when it came out that Noah and Fisher were dating. History was practically repeating itself in the forbidden love department.

“We’re all linked in one way or another,” Gramma Grace says. “It wasn’t unheard of for members of wealthy families to marry and reproduce to keep the bloodline strong. Especially in royal families.”

“Well, we’re neither billionaires nor royals, so…” I stare pointedly at Wilder. “No baggin’ a cousin.”

He scoffs, and Mom shakes her head, clearly giving up on scolding us.

“What if it’s by marriage?” Waylon asks as if he’s a hundred percent serious in his question. “There’s no bloodline crossing, then.”

Dad blows out an exaggerated breath, obviously so done with the five of us. But he sticks around and listens to our antics.

“That’s a good loophole!” Wilder exclaims. “So where’s this guest list of yours, Noah? I need to see who my options are ahead of time.”

We laugh at the way she glares at him, and he continues to taunt her until we finally pack up and call it a night.

“Thanks for dinner, Ma.” I give her a hug before kissing her cheek. “It’s gonna be an interestin’ week, huh?”

“A nerve-wrackin’ one, yes. I’m marrying off my youngest baby.” She wipes her cheek. “It’s gonna be emotional, but I’m so happy for them.”

“If it helps, she’ll probably be the only one of us who gets hitched.” I smirk because she knows I’m only teasing. One of the twins will be drunk enough to wake up married someday.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me.”

I furrow my brows. “What’s that mean?”

She rolls her eyes as if I should know what she’s talking about, but I honestly don’t.

Once I say goodbye to everyone else, I head to my truck and then fish out my phone. It’s been at least two hours since I’ve responded to Magnolia, and I’m expecting a full-on freak-out text.

Except when I see she’s sent me a photo with her hand in her panties, I’m the one having the freak-out.

Two can play this little game.

Instead of FaceTiming her when I get home, I strip off all my clothes and stroke my cock until I’m rock-hard. As I lie in bed, I continue getting myself off until I’m close to finishing. Then I hit record and moan her name over and over until I come all over my stomach.

After I’ve cleaned myself up, I attach the video to our text thread and hit send.

Less than five minutes later, she responds.

At first, I worry I’ve overstepped.

It was too soon.

I came on too strong.

She thinks I’m a creep.

But then, she sends a second message in all caps, and my whole chest shakes with laughter.

And then my phone vibrates with a FaceTime call.