Page 130 of Things Left Unsaid

“The alerts can sound in the early hours,” I protest.

“It’ll make me feel better,” he asserts.

“Colt and Tee are on the account.”

“I’d still appreciate being included.”

“The weight of the world isn’t yours to bear, Callan.”

His gaze is measured and so like his brother’s that I have to shake my head. Whichever girl hooks this one is in for a ride.

“Fine,” I mumble as I add him to the apps.

“Colt says Father is staying in Vancouver,” he rasps—ah, the reason for his mood. “Clyde could bounce around Canada for a while, thinking that time will make Colt change his mind.Then, he’ll come back.”

Ah, the mega-rich—they seriously live in a different stratosphere.

“And the prospect bothers you?” I ask, joining him at the window.

In the distance, I see Colt standing by a pasture, the fence propping him up as he watches two guys inside the corral. There’s one on a gorgeous pinto Mustang who’s figuring out how to use a lasso, another yelling instructions.

From a conversation I heard at breakfast, I know they’re in the middle of dozens of job interviews to cover the severe staff shortages afflicting both ranches.

Even from over here, I can tell this guy’s not about to be hired.

“I don’t want him to come back here.Ever.”

“I’ve never been to Vancouver,” I muse out loud because I don’t blame him for never wanting to see his father again.

“Ask Colt. He’ll take you. You should go on a honeymoon.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Duh. Because you’re married. That’s what married people do.”

This matchmaking schtick of his is new. Especially as he knows the ins and outs of the contract that binds Colt and me together—I learnedthatover a game ofTitanfall.

Narrowing my eyes, I ask him a question that’s a mirror of the one he asked me the day I moved in: “You want to get rid of me or something, Callan?”

“Huh?”

I poke him with my finger. “You want me to seduce your brother so I can become pregnant sooner and we can divorce?”

He gapes at me. “Why would you divorce when you’re having a baby together?”

Okay, so that’s not his goal, then.

“What’s with the matchmaking?”

“Colt deserves to be happy,” is his immediate retort. “What the hell were you talking about?”

Turning away from him, I stare at the yard.

Naturally, my gaze goes where it shouldn’t.

Him.

Always freakin’ him.

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