1
Jeremiah
Sometimes I think if I just lived alone, life could be so simple. Yeah, yeah, when I needed to, I’d go find myself a hot, consenting woman to bury myself in…
I dropped a hand down and massaged myself through my jeans. Speaking of, it had been too fucking long. I paused right inside the barn door and stared out past the bunkhouse. The sun had just set, and the huge Texas sky was fucking on fire with pinks and neon oranges.
I shook my head, going back to my daydreams. Yep, alone, just me and the land. Me and the cows. They’re dumb animals but usually kind-hearted enough once you get to know ’em.
At the end of the night, it’d be me and whatever I could rustle up for dinner while I listened to a podcast or two. Then maybe a book for the half hour afterwards I might manage to keep my eyes open before crashing into my mattress.
Then just enjoying the blessed dark of sleep till it was time to do it all over the next day.
God, it sounded like a good life.
I sighed, shook my head, and headed away from the ranch house, still only half rebuilt, and strode the twenty feet toward the bunkhouse with a brisk step.
The door opened from the other side before I could even put my hand on it.
“Where you been?” asked my twin brother, Reece, whose face was a perfect reflection of my own. “We been holding dinner.” He dragged me in by an arm around my shoulder. “And listen, there’s only about a thousand details of the wedding to go over. Charlie’s been up my ass because Ruth’s been up her ass wanting to know how many people are coming and need to be seated on our side of the aisle. And I had to tell her I didn’t know ’cause you hadn’t gotten back to me yet. You’re my best man, bro. You gotta be on top of this shit.”
I shook his arm off and nodded as I reached up into a cabinet for a glass so I could take a drink of water. My water bottle had gone dry an hour ago.
’Cause no. The universe did not give me silence, not from the very first moment I came into this world.
Well, they say I was born two minutes ahead of him.
So for two blessed minutes, there mighta been quiet. Or at least just the sound of my own voice howlin’.
But then—
“So, how many?” Reece asked. “Surely you’ve thought of a ballpark. You’re you. You’ve probably already got it calculated ten ways from Sunday. I thought you said yesterday you were going to call Ruth and take care of it—”
“Can’t a man get a goddamned drink?” I barked.
Reece held up his hands and looked toward Mike and Buck who were sitting around the kitchen table. “Touchy. Touchy. Who shit in your cornflakes today?”
I breathed out and spun away from him, turning on the sink water.
I will not punch my newly engaged brother, I chanted internally as I shoved the cup under the spout. I will not punch my newly engaged brother. He’s happy and I’m happy that he’s happy.
I yanked the water back and chugged it, gulp by gulp until the glass was empty.
“Look, the girls are up at the house,” Reece kept at it. “They ate on the way over so they’re doing some painting. I told them we’d be up there after dinner to help.”
I was bone tired. I’d been up since five a.m. and hearing him talk only reminded me that the day was far from over.
But it wasn’t the thought of having to take on this second shift—going to work on the big house after all the ranch work, since the contractors we’d hired were shit and about a month behind schedule. That meant we had to do a lot of the finishing touches ourselves on the downstairs, the only part of the house that was finished, and just section off the upstairs which didn’t even have drywall up yet in some rooms.
No, my brain was stuck on the word girls.
“What do you mean—who’s up at the house with Charlie?”
But I knew what he was gonna say even as he frowned at me. “Ruth.”
I massaged my temple. I felt a headache coming on.
“What’s your problem with her?” Reece asked. “We all lived in the same house for months and now it’s like the two of you can’t barely stand to be in the same room together.”
I glared at my brother for stating the obvious. “I’ve had a long day. And that woman’s mouth never turns off.”
“Well, if Charlie’s parents are coming in on Thursday, then we need all the help we can getting the place ready.”
As if I needed another reminder of the circus about to come to town. I sat down at the table and spooned some of the taco meat piled in a bowl at the center of the table into a flour tortilla. There was only the meat, salsa, and a squeeze bottle of sour cream on the table in addition to the tortillas. Plus beer. Dinner of fuckin’ champions.