She smiled before she snuggled down in the chair and closed her eyes. “Like I said, no need to hide your tears. I’ve always known you’re a wimp.”

He couldn’t help laughing.

It wasn’t until the following morning that Jace finally got to see Decker. It was disturbing to see all the tubes and machines his cousin was hooked up to. But he wasn’t as drugged out as Jace thought he would be. In fact, he was sitting up in bed staring at the tray of food in front of him when Jace walked in. A teasing glint entered his eyes.

“So this is what it takes to get you to visit me.”

Relief washed over Jace and all he wanted to do was pull Decker into his arms and hug the shit out of him. The bandage covering his chest was the only thing keeping him from it.

“I see getting shot didn’t take the smart ass out of you,” he said. Decker laughed and then winced in pain. Jace instantly regretted his teasing. “You okay? You need some more painkiller?”

Decker shook his head, then took a deep breath and slowly released it. Once he had control of the pain, he smiled. “So you do love me.”

Jace didn’t even try to come up with a snarky reply. “Like a brother. And I’m sorry, Deck. I’m so sorry for being such a complete and total jerk these last few months. Like Hallie says, I’ve had my head up my ass.”

Decker grinned. “Hallie does have a way with words, doesn’t she?”

“She can slice you open like a gutted fish.” He cringed. “Sorry. Bad analogy.”

“Real bad, considering I was just sliced open like a gutted fish. But you don’t have to walk on eggshells around me, Jace. Nor do you have to apologize for having a rough spell.” He hesitated. “Especially when I’m partly to blame for that rough spell.”

Jace sat down in the chair next to the bed. “You didn’t do anything but fall in love, Deck.”

“With the girl you loved.”

“The girl I still love.” When Decker’s eyes narrowed, Jace held up a hand. “Before you jump out of that bed and tear all your stitches, let me explain.” He took a minute to collect his thoughts before he spoke. “The reason I’ve been wrestling so much with you and Sweetie falling in love is because when I came back here a few months ago I realized that I still had feelings for Sweetie. I didn’t realize what those feelings were until now. I love her. Not the kind of love that you and Sweetie have. The kind of love you have for a person you’ve known most your life. Like my mama pointed out, Sweetie and I were friends long before we were sweethearts. And those are the feelings that have been tricking me all this time. I love Sweetie. I’ll always love her. But not like you love her, Deck. And not like she loves you.”

Saying the words out loud made him realize how true they were.

“We never had that kind of love and I guess that was part of my jealousy. I wish I had what y’all have. I wanted to blame football. If I hadn’t been so wrapped up in it, Sweetie never would have broken up with me. But the truth is, if I had loved Sweetie enough, football wouldn’t have come first. Nothing would have.” He looked at Decker and smiled. “You taught me that. You didn’t let anything get in the way of loving her like she deserves to be loved.”

Having run out of words, Jace sat back and waited for Decker to say something. He must have been drugged up because he didn’t even address the long speech. Instead, he looked at his tray of food.

“Do you think you could figure out a way to sneak in some of Bobby Jay’s barbecue ribs or maybe Tito’s chicken tacos? I’m starving and lime Jell-O and whatever this goopy shit is isn’t going to cut it.”

Jace smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I knew I could count on you.” Decker leaned back and closed his eyes.

Figuring he’d have to repeat his speech all over again once the drugs wore off, Jace settled back in the chair and pulled out his phone to scroll through it. Several minutes passed and he thought Decker had fallen asleep. Which was why he startled and almost dropped his phone when he spoke.

“I’m glad we got that cleared up, Jace. Now I don’t have to worry about you putting a pillow over my face just to get my girl.”

Chapter Seven

When Hallie volunteered to stay at Sweetie and Decker’s house and watch over their dogs, she hadn’t realized how spoiled those dogs were. George Strait was a finicky hound dog who only ate refrigerated dog food that came in a long plastic tube Hallie had to slice, chop into pieces, and then heat in the microwave because George didn’t like it cold.

Dixie Chick, a tiny Chihuahua mix, ate the same food, but she didn’t care if it was cold or hot. Or even cut into chunks. Something Hallie learned when she left the roll of food on the counter while she used the bathroom and returned to find Dixie on the counter feasting away. She assumed the dog had jumped from a nearby kitchen chair. But maybe the little Chihuahua had scaled George and used his head as a springboard.

George would do just about anything for Dixie. He followed her around like she was the petite princess of his universe. She whined, he whined. If she barked, he barked. If she took a pee by a bush, he took a pee on the same bush. George would be snoozing in the shade of the tree in the front yard and Dixie would prance over and stare him down until he opened one bloodshot eye. Then he’d jump up like he’d been electrocuted to give her his spot.

Dixie did the same thing to Hallie the first night she’d slept there. She stood over her with her buggy-eyed stare and her doggie breath hitting her in the face. Hallie had assumed the dog needed to go out so she’d gotten out of bed. As soon as she did, Dixie had hopped onto Hallie’s pillow, curled up, and gone back to sleep. Before Hallie could move Dixie back to the foot of the bed, George lumbered over and plopped down in Hallie’s spot. Hallie had spent the rest of the night trying not to fall off the sliver of bed the two spoiled dogs had left her.

Today, after a full day of working on the ranch with little sleep, she wasn’t feeling real hospitable while fixing the dogs dinner. She cut off two slices of dog food. Without chopping them up or heating them in the microwave, she flipped the slices into George’s and Dixie’s dog bowls.

“Figure it out. You’re lucky you don’t have to hunt your own food like your ancestors.”

A deep chuckle had both the dogs and Hallie startling and turning. Jace stood there, his broad quarterback shoulders almost touching either side of the kitchen doorway. The evening sun shining in the living room window behind him lit up his blond hair like a full halo.