Page 12 of Unbearable

Dorian chuckled. “For my sake, Dotty, take him up on the offer. I don’t want to hear you complaining about how your back hurts. You are getting older, you know,” he said, and my eyes narrowed on him.

“You’re an ass, you know that?” I paused, weighing my options.

I didn’t feel ready to face him every day after everything that happened and then not speaking to him for a decade.

But I also really didn’t want to sleep on the couch for an entire month while working on the cabin, let alone while using my vacation time.

A bed sounded nice.

My own little space, with a door and four walls that doesn’t have a dual purpose of being a living space.

“My own room? With a door and everything?” I asked, resting my elbows on the cool table.

“And a lock.” He chuckled.

“Can I lock you out when you inevitably piss me off?” I wasn’t joking, but Colt, who’d mostly sat quietly observing the conversation, laughed.

My head fell into my arms—face resting against the table. I didn’t even have it in me to care about how dirty the surface probably was, with stale beer stains and god knew what else.

“Sure. I don’t use the room at all. It’s only there so eventually I can convince Dorian to let Gracie sleep over.”

I peeked up from where my head rested and couldn’t believe I was even considering his offer.

“Are you clean?” I asked.

Sawyer and Dorian laughed, earning them both a glare from Trent. I looked at them both, confused.

Dorian spoke. “After coming back from the military, he is insanely clean. It is almost annoying.”

“Almost OCD level clean,” Sawyer said.

“Oh, fuck off. At least I’m not dirty,” Trent replied.

What am I doing? Maybe I should go home and get back to work, especially if I want to get promoted.

Dorian interrupted my thoughts, seeing right through me. “I know you are thinking about going home, Dotty. Don’t. Spend time with Gracie, Dad, and even our sorry asses. We want to spend time with youhere. Please just stay.” I gave him a sympathetic glance, understanding the weight of his words.

But he was right. I had already made the effort to return, so I should stay and enjoy my time with family.

“Okay, okay. Fine. I will use your guest room, because the idea of sleeping on a couch for a month sounds awful,and none of my brothers were thoughtful enough themselves to plan to have a house with a guest room for me.”

“In our defense, you never come to town,” Colt said.

Dorian pointed to our brother. “What he said.”

Sawyer chuckled. “Don’t look at me. I don’t live here.”

Damn, I forgot how nice it was having all my brothers in one place.

Finishing my drink, I gestured for Trent to stand up so I could get myself another.

He stood, towering over me, and I was reminded of how exceptionally tall he was. He rivaled Sawyer in height, which was impressive, given Sawyer was one of the tallest in the NFL.

“I can drive you back tonight. The bed’s already made up, so you’ll just need your things. We can stop by the ranch house on the way to grab them. I’d hate to see you sleep on the couch another night.” His tone was teasing, echoing my brother’s earlier comment.

“Ugh, I need another drink to deal with you four men. Excuse me.” I shoved him aside and headed to the bar.

As I walked away, I heard Sawyer’s murmuring. “Good luck. I think you pissed her off,” Colt said.

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