“Yes, thank you.” She gives Tucker a brief smile. He nods, unaffected by it, unlike me who is glad I’m sitting down. Her beauty has that much power.
“Has anyone shown you around?” Sterling, the youngest, asks. His blond hair with the finger combed curls has every young thing driving their pickups and convertibles down our long lane. “There’s not much to do around here at the ranch, but town’s only thirty minutes away, and there’s a couple nice restaurants and a flower shop. No nightclub, though. You’ll have to take the 'copter into Dallas,” Sterling adds. “I do it about once every other week. Sometimes I stay in the city a while. Cane, too. She can leave, can’t she?”
“The will says she has to stay here for three months,” Tucker replies.
“Like she can’t leave?” Sterling gapes.
“It’s fine. I’m not at all upset.” Birdie reaches out to pat Sterling’s hand, and a growl erupts.
Five heads turn toward me. I guess I made that sound.
I clear my throat. “We’ll have guests here if Birdie gets bored.”
I don’t like the idea of her leaving the ranch. I can’t really explain it, but there’s something feral in me that wants to keep her locked up and confined to this space. It’s not as if it’s limiting here. We’ve a thousand plus acres. It’ll take her about a half a year to walk around the entire place.
“A party?” Sterling rears back. “You hate those.”
“No one hates parties.” Blake speaks up for the first time and defends me.
I wave him off. “It’s fine. I do hate parties, but since Birdie can’t leave, and parties are her thing, then we’ll have parties here.”
“I really can’t leave?” Birdie says.
“Not even to go into town?” Sterling adds.
“We’ll discuss this another time. Food’s getting cold.” I dig into my steak, but I taste nothing. All I can think is how delicious Birdie’s legs looked in her cut-off denim shorts. Her breasts are nicely highlighted by her flashy top. I don’t like that the others can see them. None of my cousins are looking at her chest, at least not obviously, but how can they miss the high perky orbs beneath the sparkle? I need to ban both the sparkle and the shorts and order some burlap. Maybe a hospital gown.
“What else do you like to do besides party?” Sterling asks. “Got any hobbies?”
“I design clothes, although it’s not really a hobby. It’s my dream. I’m going to put on a show soon so the whole ‘stay here for three months’ is a tiny problem.” She holds up her fingers and pinches them together. “The fall buying season for the spring/summer collection happens in a month, so I need to get my show together and my look book shot and all of that. I really won’t be able to stay. Maybe I can have my lawyer look at the contract?”
I set down my steak knife. “Do you have a lawyer?”
She flushes. “Well, not one on retainer or anything, but I have one that did my model releases and my employment contract. Although”—she bites her lip—“I do have a bill to pay, so that might be an issue. Not a big one. I can work it out.”
“Like I said, debt up to her ears,” Tucker murmurs darkly. He also suggested she had an addiction. I don’t see any signs of it, though.
“We can have the show here.” I resume eating.
“Are you a vegetarian?” Sterling points to Birdie’s plate that hasn’t been touched. “You don’t like meat? This is prime cattle from our own herd. It’s the best.”
“Oh no. I love meat. I’m just...thinking about all I need to get done back home. I really can’t leave?” She bites her lip.
I tell my dick to stand down, but there’s no hope for it. I have a hard-on, and I can only be grateful that we’re seated and I’m not displaying my lack of control for everyone to see.
“Call Mason up and have him come back to the ranch,” I tell Blake. He was responsible for bringing Mason out here in the first place. “Birdie, you come to my office after dinner and we’ll hire you a lawyer to review the will.”
“I can do that,” Tucker offers.
My handsome cousin locked up in a room with Birdie going over her options doesn’t sit well with me. “No. I’ll do it. Sterling, you get with Birdie’s male friend and figure out a way to ship everything to the ranch. Cane, take a look at Birdie’s finances and pay off any debts she’s got. Anything else?” I look around the table. No one responds. “Good. Then everyone eat. This is prime cattle from our own herd. You’re not getting better anywhere else in the world.”
Sterling grins. “That’s what I said.”
“So you did.” I stare at Birdie until she picks up her fork and starts to eat. Socialite or no, she needs fat on her bones, and good red meat will do it. “Save room for some apple turnovers and sweet cream. That’s for dessert.”