Page 52 of Sugar
“Marriage is like, ahugefucking deal,” Colt chimes in.
I shoot him a glare, like I don’t already know.
“What do you like about her?” he asks, genuinely curious.
Rhett and Wells lean in.
It takes effort not to roll my eyes. “She’s . . . beautiful.”So fucking beautiful.“And she keeps me on my toes, you know?”
“How is she in bed?” Colt asks, wagging his eyebrows.
I shove him so hard he falls out of his chair.
“Fuck!” he yells, hurrying to get back up. “Geez, it was just a question. No reason to get fucking testy.”
“That’s my future wife you’re talking about,” I growl. “Show some respect.”
He throws his hands up in surrender before setting his chair upright and sitting back down beside me.
I turn to look at my brothers, who are both hiding knowing smiles. I point a finger at them. “Don’t.”
Rhett raises a hand to his forehead in salute.
“I’m surprised Sheriff Joe hasn’t paid us a visit yet,” Wells says, looking from Rhett to me. “Does he know?”
I shrug. “Ava’s avoiding it. But if he hasn’t heard from someone else yet, it’s only a matter of time.”
“How do you think he’s going to take it?” Rhett asks, voice low.
Anxiety pummels through my gut as I look sidelong at Colt. I might not blame him for what happened at his family’s ranch, but I’m still fucking pissed his older brother Ellis put us all in such reckless danger. “Honestly, I’m more worried about him hearing about something else.”
Colt’s eyes skip around the bar as he sips from his sweating bottle. He must feel the weight of my attention though, because he drops the bottle and scratches the back of his neck. “Look, I’m furious with Ellis too. But he swears it’s on him if shit goes south.”
“And you trust him?” I ask. “Ellis only ever looks out for himself.”
Colt looks at me with a level of hurt so profound it nearly steals the breath from my lungs. “Well the fuck aware,” he grumbles. “Still, I’ve never seen him like this. He stopped drinking, stopped fucking around with his loser friends. He’s helping Wylie Jo with the baby and taking on more work at the ranch. I think he’s hoping if he keeps his nose clean, it’ll keep anyone from sniffing around.” He looks me in the eye. “But if they do, hepromisedme he’ll take the fall. For all of us.”
I blow out a breath, letting the words sink in. “I hope so,” I manage.
Wells drivesus home well after midnight. We all have early as fuck mornings to show up for, but it was damn near impossible to get Rhett and Colt out of those barstools. Ithonestly loosened some of the strain in my chest to see them both happy and laughing, especially after everything that went down at Rustler’s Ranch, so I didn’t push our exit too hard until I realized they were starting to tip into too-drunk territory.
Both of those boys have been involved in things I’d never wish for them to experience, between our lawless fathers and the illegal shit we’veallrun at one point or another. It all needs to stop, for both families, but I can only really control my own. I never realized how much Rhett carries on his shoulders—I thought he was just born to be a hellion, full of our father’s genes. Had I known all the things he was going through and all the ways he was trying to save our family, I would have set him straight a long time ago.
I don’t blame Colt for that card game going sideways, but that boyisa fucking hellion, and as much as I love him it’s hard not to worry about his influence on Rhett.
Rhett asks us to take him to Wild Coyote. He’s been calling the apartment upstairs home more and more these days, and I have a hunch he’s not the only one—a point proven when we pull into the lot and see lights turned on through the windows of the second story. “Olivia’s in there,” he explains sheepishly from the back seat.
Wells chuckles. He turns around to smack him on the knee. “Enjoy your night.”
“See you bright and fucking early.”
“Don’t be late!” I shout as he gets out. “I better find you in that barn at sunrise, or your ass is grass.”
Rhett swings the door shut and scampers off to the bar’s front doors.
“Good to see him happy,” Wells says as he pulls back onto the road that takes us home.
“Yeah,” I agree. “And you too, kid. You and Layla—it feels right.”
