“I am happy here.”
“In the middle of nowhere?” Roscoe scoffs. “What could make you want to stay? There's little civilization here. Last we lived here; I remember everyone being in everyone's business. Is that what you want? To live among folks who have nothing better to do but gossip about what color your boxer are?”
“Nobody does that anymore.”
“Then what sort of thrill are you getting from slumming it in this town?” This time, Roscoe's face hardens. “Father says the company needs you. If you ask me though, you can do whatever you want, but working with our company is a sure thing. Your life would be set.”
“Father's company will do well with or without me. And I prefer without.”
“You might regret this. And when you do, it might be too late—"
“Listen, bro,” I interrupt, “back in New York, you have your life sorted out. You have everything you have ever wanted. You’re your own boss, you have a gorgeous wife and a baby on the way. I’m just trying to pave my own path, and not walk one that was already laid for me. When it comes to my life, you need to back the fuck off.”
Roscoe balls his fists, looking me square in the eyes.
“Guys,” Harrison says in a low tone. “Let's cut it out. We came to talk sense into our dear brother,” Harrison reminds Roscoe who has not taken furious eyes away from mine. “…not pummel him back to New York.”
“Well, if that's what it takes—"
“Hello,” a soft feminine voice calls out behind us. And immediately, my anger ebbs, and I turn towards a confused-looking Beth who is walking up to us, hips swinging from side to side in the little short dress she has on. Her dress is sublime, and damn if the sight of her in it does not cause my dick to stiffen in want.
“Beth?” Harrison asks, a shocked tone in his voice.
“Mr. Bridges,” she greets as she comes to stand beside me. I can imagine the initial shock on her face at having seen my brothers interrogate me with the potential for fight to break out.
I watch Harrison's eyes run over Beth's full length appreciatively and I tamp down the warning growl that rises to my throat.
“Harrison is fine,” he corrects with a wide grin.
Harrison is just as good looking as the rest of us and he happens to have a way with women, which is probably why Beth blushes a little and looks away.
“Look how fully you've grown. The last time I saw you, you were this little.”
Beth smiles and turns toward me. “Your meal is getting cold. You’re sure this conversation cannot be carried out inside?”
“Go finish up,” I tell her, allowing my hands to brush against her arm, smiling when she slightly shivers but obediently moves back toward the house. I can tell that my brothers witnessed the interaction with avid interest and I’m not ready for the next words that flow out of their lips.
“I see why you don't want to have anything to do with us in New York anymore.” Roscoe smiles and, in his eyes, there is a little bit of pride. “The Potter's daughter helping warm your bed at night, huh?”
“It isn't like that—"
“Isn't she a little too young for you, though?” Roscoe continues, his eyes roaming Beth's retreating backside. “Well, I wouldn't say I mind, seeing as women as young as her seem to do it for me these days too.”
“Beth isn't just a booty call,” I utter through clenched teeth. “And I am nothing like you.” I tell him darkly.
Harrison laughs.
“What is she, then? The woman of your dreams? A soon-to-be Bridges?”
When I say nothing, he smirks.
“I didn't think so. You are a Bridges, Mitch. Don't act like you're some sort of saint.”
“I never claimed to be one.”
“All for this start-up company,” Roscoe continues as if I hadn't quite opened my mouth, “I hear you are spending an obscene amount of money on. Is it worth it? And is a woman, pretty as she may be, worth having bad blood with our father? Because if you wanna have your fun with a woman, there are dozens of them who'll practically pay to have your dick in their mouth. What are you doing with a little college girl who's still wet behind the ears?”
When Roscoe pauses and looks behind me, I turn with a sickening feeling in my stomach toward an open-mouthed Beth whose eyes are slowly darkening from anger. Turning back to Roscoe, I see his eyes are filled with regret. He may be many things but he wouldn’t intentionally hurt her. He hadn’t intended for anyone to hear what he said but us.