Page 8 of Undone

“No way!” burst from his brother.

“Yeah.”

“Well, hot damn! Too bad she ditched you and married that Kyle guy.”

She didn’t ditch him and apparently, she was no longer married. “He’s dead.”

Dayne ripped the baseball cap off his head and slapped it against his thigh with athwap. “Sounds like she’s available, then.”

Normally, he’d think Dayne was being heartless about Erin losing her husband, but his brother had been pissed at Kyle Hart when he married her not long after Dylan left.

“Not to you,” Dylan informed him.

“All’s fair in love and war, brother. I figured you learned that when Kyle stole her away.”

Dylan gritted his teeth. “He didn’t steal her.”

Dayne chuckled, knowing the truth. “No? Then why doesn’t she have your ring on her finger and your babies right now?”

Erin was the reason no woman had his ring on their finger, and he didn’t have any children. “She didn’t want to leave, and I never wanted to stay. Apparently, that no longer made me a viable option.”

Dayne elbowed him. “Well, now you have your chance.”

“That ship has sailed,” he mumbled.

“Ships don’t only sail in one direction, Dyl Pickle.”

Dayne using a stupid childhood nickname wasn’t helping his mood. “She’s probably dating someone.”

“So?”

He turned to face his brother and shook his head. “Really?”

Dayne shrugged.

“Anyway, I’m surprised Mom didn’t tell me that Hart died.” She had to have known but decided to keep it from him. Her children might be in their thirties, but she still protected them like they were children.

It was both endearing and annoying at the same time.

“What did he die from?”

“How the hell do I know? I certainly wasn’t asking his widow how it happened, jackass. I wonder about you sometimes.”

“I wonder about you all the time,” Dayne responded on a laugh. “Wanna grab some lunch while in town?”

“At Mom’s?”

“No, at Patsy’s Diner, Dyl Weed.”

“Are you five, Great Dayne?”

Dayne chuckled. “God, I miss making up names for each other.”

“Again, are you five?”

“Oh, good to see that stick is back in place… Lodged up your tight ass.”

“At least I can say my ass is tight. I’m sure as hammered as yours is—” Dylan shook his head. “Why am I letting you drag me down to your level?”

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