The sun is brutal today, even if the heat isn’t as bad as it has been, but enough to warrant my Resistol hat instead of my preferred ball cap. It usually gets the out-of-state guests excited to see a “real cowboy,” so it’s not a total waste.
In between working at The Lodge in the afternoons and training with Noah in the mornings, Landen and I work on various tasks on the ranch, such as riding horseback around the ranch’s perimeter to check the fences and for anything else out of place. With his birthday party tomorrow night, we need to get most of our shit done today since he’ll be spending his actual birthday on Sunday nursing a hangover.
“Guess who’s comin’ to the Twisted Bull?” Landen flashes a shit-eating smirk, and I can only imagine the response I’m going to get. “The Marrow twins! You can thank me later. Lydia’s already foamin’ at the mouth for a taste of you.”
Gross. My entire body breaks out in hives.
Lydia’s a cockroach who tried to trap her ex into having a baby he wasn’t ready for. Poking holes in the condoms and going off her birth control without telling him.
But then she cried to anyone who’d listen to her that he broke up with her for “no reason.”
“You remember what she did to Ashton, right?”
He shrugs. “Well, double wrap it for extra security.”
I scoff. “No, thanks. I’m not that desperate.”
“You can still be nice and dance with her. Just tell her hands above the belt at all times.” He smirks over his shoulder, and I want to smack that cocky look off his face.
“Why do I have to be nice? I don’t even like her. You’re the one hot for her sister.”
“Exactly. Quinn won’t pay attention to me if she’s worried about Lydia. So ya gotta do this for me. Just keep her occupied so I can keep Quinn…occupied.”
He waggles his brows, and I nearly throw up in my mouth.
“Dude, c’mon. Don’t ask me that.”
“It’s my birthday…” His taunting voice tells me he’s not going to quit until I agree to this ridiculous plan. But that doesn’t mean I have to stick to it. He’s turning twenty-seven, and if he can’t get women without a wingman, that’s on him.
“Whatever,” I grumble.
“Yes! I’ll owe ya one.”
“You always say that. I think you’re up to three hundred and twenty-two IOUs.”
He barks out a laugh. “You’re keepin’ count?”
“Educated guess. All the times I drive your drunk ass home. All the shifts I cover for you when you’re hungover. All the chicks I dodge in town askin’ why you ain’t callin’ ’em back.” I scowl at his proud grin. “Oh, by the way…not your fuckin’ secretary. Break up with them like a normal person.”
“Nothin’ to say. I’m never exclusive. It ain’t my fault they always want more than I can give. Guess it’s my natural wit and charm.”
I snort, then dig my heels into Franklin so he catches up to Landen, and we can stop shouting to hear each other. He’s my four-year-old Appaloosa, and I ride him everywhere on the ranch. He’s an easy, calm horse when he’s not next to Landen’s quarterhorse.
As soon as we’re side by side, Franklin releases a loud whine.
“You’re alright.” I pat his neck. “Settle down.”
“He’s such a finicky bitch.” Landen laughs.
“Sydney’s a tease,” I remind him. We’ve caught them many times trying to bite each other when we put them in the pasture to muck their stalls. No idea why, but they clearly have beef with each other.
“Don’t listen to him, baby,” Landen says in a sickly sweet voice. “You just don’t take shit from a man, right?”
Rolling my eyes at the irony, I give Franklin another kick so we can hurry this along. When we get up one of the hills, I go right, and Landen goes left so we can cover more area quicker.
We check the fences every quarter, usually around season changes or after we get hit with lots of rain or wind. The ground shifts and that affects the fence line.
By the time I meet back up with Landen, he’s grinning like a fool at his phone.
“Who’re you chattin’ with?” I ask.
“Just Mags.”
Jealousy slices through me at how close the two are. Talking about only God knows what.
My mind’s distracted as I catch up to him and end up too close to Sydney. Franklin’s high-pitched whine scares her, and she bucks.
“Oh, shit. None of that, Syd.” Landen tightens his hold on the reins and his phone goes flying from his grip. I manage to catch it before it drops to the ground and the screen with his text messages appears.
The conversation with Magnolia.
I shouldn’t look, but when I glance down briefly, my eyes catch a name I don’t recognize. Thor. Thor? Who the fuck is that?
Scrolling up to see if there’s an explanation for this “thunder-god,” my jaw drops when I see several photos of a half-naked Magnolia in barely there lingerie.
And fuck me, she’s drop-dead gorgeous.
I blink the images away, feeling like a creep for sneaking a peek. Then I quickly read the rest of their messages. The way Landen talks makes me wonder if he’s still crushing on her.
“Dude, good catch,” Landen says once Sydney’s settled.
“Yeah, here.” I extend my arm until he reaches it. “Who the fuck is Thor?”
He snorts so goddamn loud, I almost wonder if it came from Sydney.
“Saw that, did ya?” He shoves the phone into his pocket.
“You gonna tell me or what?”
We continue riding toward the family barn as he shrugs. “It’s…nobody.”
I roll my eyes at his lack of an answer.
“You still like her, don’t you?”
“Only as a friend.”
“Sure about that? I read the messages.”
He barks out a laugh as we ride side by side, with more room between us this time. “You fuckin’ snoop.”
“Why’s she sendin’ you nudes then?”
“Jesus Christ, Tripp. You her boyfriend or somethin’? What’s with the third degree?”
“Because I know you.”
He whips his head at me in offense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not lookin’ for anything serious. You just said you don’t do exclusivity,” I remind him. Landen hasn’t been in a serious relationship since high school.
“And Magnolia is?”
That I’m not sure, but I do know he’d hurt her. And then I’d have to kick my brother’s ass.
“When’re you gonna finally ask her out, man?”
“What’re you talkin’ about?” My stomach coils at him knowing the truth. I haven’t told a single soul about my feelings for Magnolia. How could he possibly know?
“I’m talkin’ about you mannin’ the fuck up, admittin’ you like her, and askin’ her out instead of”—he waves his hand out in a circular motion toward me—“pretendin’ like she doesn’t exist.”
“I don’t do that.”
His amused chuckle pisses me off, but I don’t exactly have an excuse to defend myself. So I shut my mouth before he can give me more shit.
Neither of us talks the rest of the way to the newly built family barn where all of our personal horses are boarded. It burned down last summer, but we had a team clean up the aftermath and started rebuilding as soon as possible. Luckily, all of our horses were saved when Fisher risked his life to get all of them out after he was nearly knocked unconscious.
The barn’s close to our parents’ house, which is the main house on the ranch. Landen and I moved out earlier this year into one of the duplexes on the ranch hand quarters. He took the top level, and I moved into the bottom. We each have two bedrooms and bathrooms of our own space, which is nice after sharing a house with my brothers, Gramma Grace, and my cousin Mallory, but sometimes I miss the chaos. It gets lonely living alone, but at least we meet up every Sunday night for family supper.
“Wanna hang out tonight?” Landen asks once Sydney and Franklin are brushed and back in their stalls.
“Nah. I need to mentally prepare for the hell tomorrow night’s gonna be.”
His palm smacks my shoulder. “You mean the most epic party ever.”
“Right. Some of us still have to work this weekend.”
“You have cabin call. Big deal.”
Big deal? Says him.
Every afternoon, I work in The Lodge with the receptionist when the guests check in. Everyone who stays in the equine retreat cabins and wants to go trail riding must use the same horse during their stay. My parents wanted a curated experience for each guest, and they get a horse based on their riding knowledge and age. It’s my job to pick the right horse for them, and then I call Waylon so he can get the right ones ready.
“I also train in the mornings,” I remind him, although Landen trains too during the off-breeding season.
“Complain to me when you’re jerkin’ off horses all summer.”
Landen loves to throw it in everyone’s face that he manages the breeding operation, which keeps him busy all summer. During the off months, he takes care of the stallions and is in charge of booking mares for the following year.
“You’re the one who volunteered for that position,” I remind him.
“Well, yeah. Who else gets to say they sell sperm for a livin’?” He waggles his brows and his tongue flicks between his lips.
“You’re so fuckin’ weird.” I shake my head on my way to my truck.
“Don’t forget you’re my DD bitch tomorrow night. You can drive Quinn and me back and then bring Lydia back to your place for a nightcap.”
“Pfft. I’m always your bitch. And I’m not bringin’ Lydia to my house, so she better have another ride home.”
“Aww, don’t be like that. Just occupy her for a few hours and then Quinn and her can Uber home.”
“No.”
“It’s my birthday…” The taunting way he sings those words makes me want to punch his pretty boy face.
“Imma get wasted just so I don’t have to take you or the twins home. I’d rather pass out in the alley than bring her to my house.”
Landen shoves me into the driver’s side door before he goes around to the passenger’s side. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He’s right, and I hate that he is.
If I’m not in the safety and comfort of my house or my parents’, I’m not drinking.
Just the thought threatens an anxiety attack.
“You’re a dick.” I hop in, then buckle up.
I’m in hell.
No, this is much worse.
Lydia won’t keep her hands off me and Landen’s so obsessed with Quinn that he doesn’t even bother to come rescue me.
I spent the day finishing up work chores and then got ready to come out. Waylon and Wilder were jacked up and ready to party hours ago. My brothers and I met up at Landen’s to pregame—well, I drank water—and then I drove everyone into town. We hit up a Mexican restaurant first to get food into their stomachs and then walked to the Twisted Bull where I’m currently burning in hell’s flames.
Wilder signed everyone up to ride the mechanical bull, including Fisher, who doesn’t even need to hang onto the horn. Noah’s staying close to Magnolia, but when I see her asshole ex show up, my hands ball into fists, ready to take him out.
I haven’t seen him around much since he reported me to the sheriff two years ago, and I ended up with a hundred hours of community service. Since I had witnesses to claim the actual events of what happened, I was able to make a deal that kept me out of jail. I stayed away from Travis and worked at the homeless shelter and food bank all summer.
Magnolia volunteered to work the hours for me, nearly begging the sheriff to let her since she felt at fault, but I told her absolutely not. I’m the one who punched and kicked Travis and fuck him, I’d do it again if it meant he left her alone.
But for some reason, the universe is punishing me. He’s here tonight when I can’t escape Lydia and her clingy fingers to keep an appropriate watch on Magnolia.
“Do you wanna get a drink?” she whispers in my ear much too loudly as we sit at a bartop table.
“I’m only drinkin’ water. But feel free to get a refill of yours.”
I glare at Landen across the table, whose tongue is currently bobbing for apples inside Quinn’s mouth. Fucking asshole.
“Wanna come with me?” Lydia asks sweetly.
Turning to face her, the guilt creeps in at how harsh I’m being. It’s not her fault I’ve been tasked with babysitting her, but I also hate leading her on.
“Sure,” I say.
When we approach the bar, Noah and Magnolia are also there getting shots.
“Hey, Tripp. Wanna recreate my birthday party BJ shot?” Magnolia’s halfway to drunkville, which makes me even more worried about Travis being here.
“I ain’t drinkin’ tonight,” I tell her, then look at Noah. “Fisher drivin’ y’all home?”
“Yeah, he’s our DD.”
I nod, appreciating that she’ll be looked after.
Her mentioning that night has my chest vibrating. It was the first and only time our lips touched, and I was tempted to do it again as soon as she pulled away. Travis glared like he wanted to murder me, and if it wasn’t for him being there, I actually might’ve kissed her for real.
Consequences be damned.
“Oh, c’mon!” Magnolia pleads, bouncing on her tiptoes as she inches toward me. “It’s one shot.”
At her closeness, Lydia slides in next to me, wrapping her hand around my arm. Squeezing, rather. She glares at Magnolia. “And who are you?”
“That depends. Who are you?” Magnolia pretending not to know makes this even more hilarious. Sugarland Creek is a small town of only two thousand people. Everyone knows everyone, but the Marrows are Landen’s age, so although they’re four years apart, there’s a low chance they’ve never heard of each other.
“Lydia Marrow…his date.”
Fire burns in Magnolia’s eyes when she scowls at me. “Tripp doesn’t date.”
“Apparently, he does because here I am.” Lydia’s silky sweet voice has Magnolia grinding her teeth.
Magnolia’s gaze finds mine and a sinister smile forms across her face. “Be careful or you’ll become a daddy…and not the sexy Daddy kind.”
Oh, fuck. She’s heard the rumors, too.
I’m too busy focusing on Magnolia to react when Lydia steps forward and gets in Magnolia’s face.
“Excuse me? What’d you just say, little girl?” Lydia’s taller by a few inches, but that’s never scared Magnolia off before. “You’re one to talk…slut.”
Without a word, Magnolia reaches up and pulls a chunk of Lydia’s hair.
“GIRL FIGHT!” Wilder shouts from behind them.
Remind me to kill him later.
Luckily, Noah beats me to it and smacks him across the head.
Quickly grabbing Lydia’s arm, I yank her back before there really is a girl fight in the middle of the bar. It’s not to protect Lydia but to keep Magnolia out of trouble.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” I warn Lydia.
Her jaw drops as she motions toward Magnolia. “She just pulled my hair! Didn’t you hear what she said about me?”
“I don’t give a shit. You don’t call anyone a slut, especially her, around me.” I set my jaw, narrowing my eyes so she understands my warning won’t be repeated.
Before another word is muttered, Travis walks up behind Magnolia, and my vision goes black.
This motherfucker.
“There a problem, Hollis?” The arrogance in his tone makes me want to deck that smug smirk off his face.
“There will be if you don’t mind your own damn business.” My eyes zoom into how close he’s standing to Magnolia.
“Lookin’ to add a second round of community service to your résumé?” His arm drapes around her shoulders in a familiar way, and it makes my hands itch to smack his hands off her.
“Fuck off, Travis. This doesn’t involve you…for once,” I spit out.
“Sure it does. Your little girlfriend there is getting in my Maggie’s face. So you either stop her…or I will.”
“Shut up, Travis,” Magnolia scolds him with an elbow to his gut.
Good girl.
“Baby doll, I’m just protectin’ you.”
“Well, I don’t need it,” she hisses, walking around him and shoveling through people to get away.
I give Travis a cocky smirk just to piss him off that he’s not getting Magnolia’s attention tonight either.
