He gulped. Was he so sure that was true anymore? Cole’s blood boiled when he saw West brush off her efforts to hang out with him, but there was a new possessive glint in his brother’s eye when West checked her out. Cole spit the toothpaste out, running the water down the sink. He clung to the idea that they could be happy, but if West hurt her…?
This was so stupid!
Cole was just as bad as his brother. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her, either. How could he save her?
He took off barefoot down the hall, still in the ragged tee shirt and shorts that he used as his PJs while company was in the house. He headed for the laundry room. He’d thrown his clothes from the washing machine into the dryer last night. They should be ready for him.
Eva’s commentary on his clothes made him roll his eyes. What kind of jeans did she want him to buy, something with embroidery on the pockets like he’d seen at the rodeo? Embellishments? Tight, high-waist urban cowboy wear that his old man liked to wear in the ’80s? Or was she thinking of something more like what West liked to put on? A $1,000 pair of designer jeans that looked the same on as the ones from Harold’s?
Either way, she could forget it. The cattle couldn’t care less what he wore. His worn jeans did the job and they were twice as comfortable as what people flashed around the city when they were trying too hard.
West’s bedroom door ripped open, making Cole strangle on a shout on his way down the hall. What was his brother up to at this early hour? Cole peered up the silent stairs, hoping he hadn’t woken up the entire household with his nerves.
“What are you doing up, West?” Cole hissed.
“Well, you’re jumpy!”
Of course, he was! He’d gotten that way a few months ago after Porter had been so bored with his twin missing that he’d taken to leaving some ugly Halloween bridal skull lying around to scare him. Cole made a face at his older brother and kept on heading for the laundry room.
He’d had enough of his brothers’ mischief.
“Wait,” West whispered. He was pulling on his clothes while he chased Cole down the hall. This could only mean trouble. Cole hurried on. “Why are you leaving so early?” West called.
He didn’t want anything to do with West and Eva anymore. Wasn’t it obvious?
Maybe it was.
West followed him like a cat on a mouse. “Wait. I want to talk to you.”
“No time, West,” Cole said. “Dad has a huge list of chores that can’t wait for me this morning, and…”
“When will you be back?”
Never.
“Not sure.” Cole dove into the laundry room, flipping on the light. “Why?”
“You showed Eva a good time yesterday.”
Cole froze. Was he about to get punched? “I was only taking her away from that argument you and Dad got into,” he said. “That was it.”
And the rest was just damage control. He wasn’t sure that West would give him time to explain, and so he just pretended that he was oblivious to his crimes. Cole sifted through his clothes, but he couldn’t find a single pair of his jeans. He didn’t have time to wonder how that had happened.
West cornered him. “I need you to do it again.”
This might be worse than getting punched. Cole dropped his clothes back into the dryer and turned away. “Forget it.”
Now was the time to bolt, but Cole was still missing his jeans. He turned around the room to see if their momma had tried to be helpful and folded them away. He wasn’t catching sight of them anywhere.
“C’mon,” West said. “I’ve got to take care of business. It’s an emergency.”
Everything was an emergency with West. And there was no way that Cole was going to get in the way of that dysfunctional relationship again. Yesterday was a disaster. “You really trust your fiancée to another man?” Cole asked. “Were you born yesterday?”
West laughed. “Do you still go to Bible study every Sunday?”
“Yeah.” What did that have to do with bailing out West again? Cole pushed past him, searching through the folded clothes on the shelves for his jeans.
“You still help the pastor put in irrigation pipes for the old folks in the county and mind your momma and take her canned jams out to her friends?”