Page 67 of When It's Us
Hank chuckles. “If by hitting your stride you mean being unable to turn your neck because you slept wrong, I’m just hitting my stride too.”
Hudson huffs out a laugh before turning to me. “You planning to start on the other side of the duplex soon?”
I nod, not at all phased by the sudden switch in conversation. That’s how it’s always been with my brothers and me. We can rib the shit out of each other one second and switch to business or talk about the ranch the next without missing a beat.
I nod, flicking a glance at Hank. “Thanks for the heads up about Ginger staying at Hales’ place, by the way.”
Hank shrugs. “Why else would I tell you to keep your dick in your pants?”
I blink at him. “You always tell me to keep my dick in my pants.”
Hudson laughs. I glare at him.
He shrugs like the asshole he is, a shit eating grin on his face. “What? He’s not wrong.”
“I thought you knew,” Hank says after a beat.
“How the hell would I know Ginger was staying at Hales’ place? She doesn’t live here, and even if she did, it’s not like they’re friends.”
Are they? Fuck. Who knew? Not me. I see my family often enough, I guess, but I don’t make it a point to know every little detail of what’s going on in each of their lives, who talks to whom, and how much.
Hank shrugs again, picking up his black baseball cap and settling it on his head. “How the fuck should I know? You’re working out there. Thought Hales might’ve mentioned it.”
“She didn’t.”
“What’s the big deal, anyway?” Hudson asks.
I actually don’t have an answer for that. Me working in close proximity to the woman I can’t seem to get enough of shouldn’t be a problem. It’s not. Itwon’tbe.
Hudson watches me, waiting for an answer, but Hank speaks up next, leveling me with that broody big brother look he’s perfected since the rest of us started coming out of the womb.
“Keep your dick away from Ginger and everything will be fine.”
“You’re still on that shit? Fuck off.” I scoff at Hank. “What I do with my dick ismybusiness.”
My oldest brother drops his hands on his hips and does his best impression of Pop. "She’s Wren’s best friend, Hutch.” He glances down at his feet, then hits me with that broody look he can’t help but use. “Just don’t fuck with her, okay? They’ve been tight a long time and don’t forget, she’s got kids, too.”
“What the fuck do her kids have to do with anything?” I know I probably sound like an asshole, maybe even a little guilty, but what the hell?
Hank sighs, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. “She doesn’t need you coming in and fucking things up with your bullshit.”
I grind my molars. Mybullshit?
I’m about to open my mouth and tell him that Ginger is a grown woman, but before I can, a guy with dark hair pokes his head into the stables, clearing his throat. I recognize him but don’t spend enough time on the ranch to know his name.
“Sorry to interrupt, boss,” he says to Hank before glancing at Hudson and me.
Hank tips his chin up at the guy in acknowledgment, hands still on his hips like the moody fuck he is.
“Wyatt Ransom’s here. Says it’s urgent.”
Hank’s brows pull together. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”
Hudson glances over. “Wyatt Ransom? What’s he doing clear out here?”
“Bullshit rumors, most likely. You know how small towns are,” Hank says, reaching for his hat.
Pop used to deal with the co-op, but since Hank took over, they come to him. Folks trust him to stay calm when things start to buzz.
