Page 11 of Unbearable

Dotty

GOING, GOING, GONE - LUKE COMBS

After applyingminimal makeup in an effort to not hide the last bits of my summer freckles that dotted my cheeks, I tossed my blond hair into a messy bun atop my head. Opening the bathroom door, I called out to my brothers that I was ready and rushed downstairs.

“Finally,” Dorian scoffed.

“Oh, please,” I shot back. “I got ready in half an hour, so spare me your drama. Just wait until Gracie gets older—you’ll be in for it.” Lowering my eyes, I pointed at him.

Dorian became a father five years ago when Gracie was born. Though he had always kept people at an arm’s length, he had been casually dating Hallie for a year when she got pregnant and tragically passed away during childbirth. She had complications throughout her pregnancy, and Gracie spent her first month in the NICU before finally coming home.

Although I hadn’t been back to Woodstone Falls in years, I still managed to see my niece often. With a brother in the NFL, we frequently visited him for birthdays and holidays when he couldn’t get away during the footballseason, which was the perfect excuse to continue to avoid my hometown.

Dorian dragged his hand down his face. “I know. She’s constantly asking for another princess dress-up outfit or purse. Who knew she needed so many tiny, silly purses?” he groaned.

“A girl needs her accessories, Daddy.” Gracie strolled in from the kitchen, holding a donut.

“And where did you get that?” Dorian pointed to the donut, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Papa gave it to me. It’s Gracie and Papa night!” she screamed in a high-pitched voice, bursting with excitement.

“Uh-huh, well, I guess he is the one putting you to bed. Have fun, Dad!” he yelled back to the kitchen. “We are headed out now.”

Dad walked into the room. “Have fun, kids. Don’t worry about us. We got movies and popcorn. Stay out as late as you want. Gracie’s room is all set up for her when she’s ready.”

I gave Gracie a big hug and kissed her adorable blond locks before saying bye to my dad and my brothers do the same. We all hopped into the truck and headed to the bar.

Walking into The Outlaw’s Bar was everything I pictured it would be. Western memorabilia and retro neon signs cluttered the walls. It was dark, and the ambiance made the wood paneling not look quite so outdated. It gave off the vibe of a mix between a cowboy and a dive bar.

“What do you guys want to drink? I’ll go order while you go grab a table,” Colt offered.

“Tequila soda, please.” I rarely drank, but after the week I’d had, it felt well deserved.

“Get me a beer. You know what I like,” Sawyer added.

“Same,” Dorian said, patting Colt on the shoulder and directing us to a booth.

Sawyer slid into the seat opposite me, even sitting down, my brother dwarfed me with his large build. “It’s good to have you back home, Dotty. Thanks for coming out tonight. I know you don’t like coming home, but I am damn glad you did.” His smile was genuine. Our two-year age difference kept us fairly close growing up, and I knew he was always there for me, especially in adulthood. He frequently checked in and made it known he was there. With his kind heart, Sawyer always looked out for those around him, sometimes to a fault.

“It feels odd to admit, considering how much I’ve avoided this town, but it’s actually really nice being here. I forgot how much I loved this place.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I fully comprehended what I was saying. Not waking up to the sound of horns outside my apartment and the absence of smoggy air definitely had its perks.

Colt returned with our drinks and sat next to Sawyer. “You staying on dad’s couch for a month?” he asked, his long dark hair hiding under a baseball cap.

“Not if I can help it,” I sighed, aware that if I asked Colt, he only had an extra couch and preferred his space. “I was hoping I could stay in the cabin, but it is not ready unless I want to be sharing a bed with rodents. I really don’t want to spend a month in a hotel either, especially with the closest one being ten miles out of town.”

Right then, Trent walked into the bar and Dorianmotioned for him to join us. He sat next to me, and I felt the air gain a static charge in his presence.

“Why don’t you stay with Trent?” Colt proposed.

“I’m good,” I said simultaneously as Trent offered, “You are welcome to my guest room.”

“I’d rather take my chances with the mice.” I flashed my teeth in a sarcastic grin. “The couch was fine last night. I slept great.” The squeak in my voice betrayed me.

“You fell off the couch this morning, griped at me not to talk to you until you’d had coffee, and looked like you barely slept. I’d say that is not exactly true, sis,” Sawyer said, amusement lacing his voice.

“Snitch.” I took that opportunity to chug the rest of my drink, needing tequila to get me through the conversation.

“Come stay in the guest room. We all know that couch is at least thirty years old and cannot be comfortable,” Trent replied, and I forgot just how charming he really could be.

---