Page 29 of Along Comes Trouble

COLTON

T he week passesin a blur of work around the farm—well, mostly me trying to make it look like I’m working instead of actually working. I do my fair share, it’s not like I’m freeloading off David and my parents, but since this farm isn’t much more than a small paycheck and a legacy for my brother’s kids, there’s not a lot of incentive to go above and beyond what’s expected of me .

And now that I have Tessa to occupy every waking hour, it’s easy to find something more interesting than work to occupy my time. Between text conversations that blend into phone conversations that last well into the night and the fact that my thoughts constantly revolve around her, Tessa has consumed me. How is it possible that I ever thought she was anything but wonderful? I see her golden hair in the way the light plays on the water at the pond. Imagine her moaning and writhing underneath me as I gather the eggs from the chicken coop. And damn if Michelle doesn’t have a batch of brownies cooking when I show up for poker on Sunday .

“Those are for Claire’s gymnastic class,” she says when she catches me eyeing them .

I hold up my hands. “Don’t you worry. I promise I won’t touch them.” But that doesn’t stop me from pinching a bite off the corner of one as soon as Michelle turns her back. They’re good, but Tessa’s are better .

The McGuires and Reeds arrive, overwhelming the living room with sound and people as husbands and wives show up toting kids and bags and gear galore. I never knew how much stuff kids required until my friends started having babies. A simple trip to David’s house looks like it takes more planning than a week-long camping expedition. Bailey and Lexi head off with Michelle and the children to do whatever it is they do when they get together. Ty and Liam wander into the kitchen and I help myself to a beer as another knock sounds at the front door .

David purses his brows. “Did you invite someone?” he asks me .

“Me?” I tip back the beer. “Nope .”

“I wonder who it is.” David twists in his seat to look toward the living room .

“Only one way to find out,” I say as I pull out a chair and sit .

“Come on, man. You were already standing. You could have gotten the door.” David drags himself out of his seat .

“It’s your house.” I take another drink as David grumbles and walks out of the room. A few seconds later, he returns with Sarah looking sheepish, her hands shoved in her pockets .

She slides one out to wave. “I invited myself to poker Sunday. Hope you don’t mind .”

Nobody says a word. It’s a huge deal that she’s here and the last thing anyone wants to do is scare her away. At least that’s how I see it. Liam and Ty might simply be annoyed to have a little estrogen in the middle of our testosterone-fueled afternoon .

Sarah steps backward. “I can leave, though. If it’s an imposition .”

David grips her arm and guides her the rest of the way into the kitchen. “Don’t be silly. This is as much your home as it is mine.” A surge of bitterness snakes through me at his words, but I swallow it back with a swig of beer. It was a mistake to be as open as I was with Tessa about my history. I can’t remember the last time I felt resentment toward David and now that I’ve unburied all those feelings from the past, it’s pulsing through me again .

He’s right. This house belongs to all of us. The front door no longer squeaks because that was the first project Dad trusted me to do solo. The hand-painted flowers along the trim in the bathroom are courtesy of weeks of Sarah’s diligence. And sure, this house is a showcase of David’s efforts as well, but he’s the one who gets to raise his kids here, pointing out all the ways the house has changed over the decades. Not me. Not Sarah. It’s all for David. I swallow hard. I need to rebury all this bitterness because I can’t stomach feeling this way. Life isn’t fair and wasting energy caring about that fact is ridiculous .

There’s a flurry of movement as we make room at the table for Sarah, each of us voicing our agreement with David, making sure she feels welcome. “Just so you know,” says Liam, “the wives are upstairs with the kids. You could hang out with them if you get tired of hanging with us losers .”

Sarah shakes her head. “Nah. I’m sure your wives are great people, but I’m always more comfortable around guys .”

“What she means,” I say as I open the fridge to get Sarah a beer, “is that she misses her brothers dearly and would rather spend time with us .”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” Sarah smirks .

David scowls. “I just need to get this straight,” he says to me. “This is my house when there’s someone at the door, but it’s not my house when you want something out of the fridge ?”

“Pretty much.” I hand the beer to Sarah and take a seat. “You realize though, dear sister, that by showing up here today, you’ve officially volunteered to give me any relevant Tessa information .”

“I did no such thing.” She twists the lid off the beer and tips it back, grinning when she puts the bottle back on the table .

“You most certainly did. It’s your moral obligation as my sister and friend of the woman I’m banging.” I grin even as a small voice in the back of my head protests my word choice. I don’t have a name for what happened between us last weekend, but banging sure isn’t it .

“Banging?” Ty shakes his head and folds his arms on the table. “Way to keep it classy, man .”

“Right?” Sarah gathers her hair over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t let Tessa hear you say that,” Sarah says to me. “According to her, you guys made sweet, sweet, mind and life-altering love .”

I lift my hat and run a hand through my hair. “So, you two have been talking about me.” Now is not the time or the place, but the urge to pick Sarah’s brain is almost too strong to resist. I’m pretty sure Tessa hated me right up until the day I spilled nachos on her—and the feeling was mutual. I was no great fan of hers, either. But now? Now, I can’t survive an hour without wanting to talk to her .

“Dude,” Liam says. “Of course they’ve been talking about you. They’re chicks. It’s what they do .”

“And you realize that if Tessa heard you use the word banging , she’d never recover, right?” Sarah runs a finger through the condensation on her beer. “She is way too romantic for banging .”

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