7. Rowdy

7

ROWDY

I opened the pass-through gate between me and Kess’s house. He’d texted me earlier saying that he would have breakfast and coffee ready, and I’d looked forward to it—probably a little more than I should’ve.

Yesterday I had given him a list of items to purchase, and as I approached, he stood there, looking overwhelmed by the pallets of plants, fertilizer, and mulch.

“This isn’t the little shop of horrors,” I sassed, stepping up to him. “Nothing here is going to try to eat you.”

He grinned. “Well, that’s a damn shame.”

I rolled my eyes and gave him a hug. I didn’t know when we’d become the kind of friends who hugged every time we saw each other, but I wasn’t mad at it. He returned the hug automatically, squeezing me tight.

I took a deep breath and pressed my face into his pecs, enjoying the fact that he was a generous hugger.

“Did you fall asleep on me?” he asked, his smile audible from this position.

I rocked my forehead across his chest. “Nope. You’re just super, super comfortable.”

“Just what every guy likes to hear,” he cracked. “Fuck sexy or rich or handsome. He’s comfy, folks.”

I jokingly pushed off him. “I’m just trying to give you a compliment. Considering the fact that you desperately need my help today, I suggest you take it for the gift it is.”

Kess laughed, and the morning sun caught his pale green eyes just so. He fucking took my breath away. He was always so elegant compared to my...I didn’t know what to call it. Natural style?

Whatever. I was basically a skinnier Gimli to his slightly beefier Legolas.

“Oh, I appreciate your help,” he said, shifting me into a side hug as he directed us to the back of the house.

We walked like that, side by side and with his arm around me, to the low deck that overlooked the shimmering pool, turquoise in the new morning light. There on the table—whose wood matched the sturdy lounge chairs—was a massive spread of food.

“Who are you expecting?” I asked, breathless as he skimmed his lips over my temple before letting me go. “I’ve got an appetite, but this is a bit much.”

He tugged at his lower lip, sheepish. “I guess it is a lot. But you said that Stevie would be joining us, right?”

“Yeah. But she eats like a teenager, Kess. Not, like, an army of teenagers.”

“I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”

I grabbed one of the rustic stoneware plates and a linen napkin, then selected a fork from the bouquet of heavy silverware in a pint glass.

“This is a fancy brunch,” I said, leaning against his side.

Kess stilled for a moment, then his heavy hand landed on my shoulder. “I like fancy. And who doesn’t love brunch?”

I looked up at the exact second he looked down. With the way the sun had bleached out his hair, I’d somehow missed the gray at his temples. It was a reminder of our age difference, and yet...God, was there anything sexier than a man with a little silver in his hair?

“Rowdy, I?—”

His words were cut off by the sound of galloping hoofbeats. “Sorry I’m late!” Stevie said, rounding the corner on her pretty bay, Gertie.

I found myself grateful for the interruption, even if I missed the heat of Kess’s body when he stepped away. Refocusing on Stevie, I watched as she dismounted her horse, easy as anything.

When I’d first met Stevie, she was a little tween girl who’d loved spinny skirts and sparkly boots. She’d grown several inches in the intervening years and was now a coltish thirteen-year-old who recently announced that she preferred T-shirts, jeans, and cowboy boots like her Papa.

Unlike Woody’s penchant for sitcoms of the ’80s and ’90s, however, Stevie had a thing for Japanese animation and currently wore her favorite Studio Ghibli fit featuring the dragon from Spirited Away. She hadn’t lost all of her sparkly tendencies, though, having traced iridescent puff paint over the dragon’s scales, and she wore an impressive stack of handmade friendship bracelets.

God, she was growing so fast.

“Hey, Uncle Rowdy,” she said, putting her arms around me.

She’d started calling me Uncle Rowdy at the same time she started calling Woody Papa, and, just like Woody, I teared up the first time she did it.

“How is it you’re almost as tall as I am?”

She raised an unconcerned shoulder. “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away,” she said, quoting our favorite Coreys movie.

Kess chuckled. “Oh no, there’s two of you.”

Not taking him seriously for a second, Stevie laughed, turning to give him a hug as well. “What can I say, Uncle Kess. I learned from the best.”

His eyes cut to mine. “Yes, you did.”

I brushed off the nervy sensation in my fingertips, still lingering from the moment we’d shared before Stevie joined us. We had plants to get into the ground, and I didn’t have time for flights of fancy.

Stevie led Gertie to a tree near a delicious bit of grass and tied her up. After that, we surrounded the pallets of planting things like a war council.

“What if we go in height order?” Stevie asked. “Lavender in the back, then sage, then some of this low creeping vine.”

“I see where you’re going with that, but...I saw something on Pinterest the other day where it was kind of mixed.”

I reached for my phone and Stevie looked on as I pulled up the Pinterest board I’d created. She smiled and pointed out the garden with the variable heights.

“That is cool, but I think the lantana mixed with the other three is going to be a lot.”

“Where would you want the lantana?” I asked Kess.

He held up his hands, shrugging. “Hell if I know.”

Stevie hip-checked him. “Maybe we can plant some of it around the base of the trees closest to your house?”

“Not a bad idea,” I said, pulling up another board. “See how lantana can act as either a ground covering or a bush, depending on how you cut it?”

Kessler shifted to look over my shoulder, his heat at my back and his low chuckle in my ear. “That stuff is gonna grow however the hell it’s gonna grow, and I won’t be doing anything to influence its shape. Like, at all.”

I leaned back, dizzy from the feel of him. “Good point. I’m sure Stevie and I’ll be happy to help you with occasional upkeep, but we need to remember that this is going to be a very natural-looking result.”

He put his chin on my shoulder and reached around to point at another picture on the board. “The lavender and sage will look perfect up against the house, but I think a pop of color around some of the trees would be nice. Maybe we can add in a few coneflowers against the yellow?”

“I like it.”

Stevie apparently agreed because she grabbed a bag of soil and hefted it over her shoulder, marching in that determined stride of hers toward the empty beds in front of Kess’s house.

Kess stepped in next to me, drifting his hand over my hip. “Ever since she was a little girl, she always had a serious look on her face,” he said with a nostalgic grin. “I’ll be honest, I initially thought Emery was crazy to upend his entire life to move out here, but then again, I thought he was crazy for wanting to become a dad at twenty-five.”

I bit my lip. I was twenty-five, and I would give anything to be a father.

“The second I visited, though, I got it,” he said, unaware of my inner thoughts. “I think Stevie would have done well in whatever environment—she’s definitely a grow-where-planted type of human. But this place? Is probably where she was always meant to be.”

I nodded placidly, even as every cell in my body became aware of his hand on my hip.

What was he doing?

“I’ve only known her for a couple of years, but I think you’re right. She’s one of my favorite people on the entire planet. And it’s dangerous.”

Kess chuckled. “Why dangerous?” he asked as we watched her fish a knife out of her back pocket and slit open the bag of dirt.

I thought about our conversation at the bar, and the idea of letting him get to know the real me. Full honesty was still a hell no , but...maybe I could let him in a little?

“Uh, dangerous because Emery and Woody make it look easy.”

Kess shouldered me. “What? Parenthood?”

“Exactly. They make it look like a walk in the park, and I know it’s not.” I rubbed my hand over my chest as I finally stepped away from him. “Dollars to donuts, my kid’s gonna be an absolute terror.”

Kess went quiet as I grabbed another bag of gardening soil. I looked over at him. “What?” I asked, immediately defensive.

“You just surprised me, that’s all,” he said, taking the bag from me to hoist it on his shoulder. “I’ve never heard you talk about wanting kids. Didn’t figure you for the sort.”

Something about his amused disbelief rankled.

I put a bag on my shoulder. “For the sort of what?” I asked, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

Kess, clearly having missed the shift in my attitude, plowed forward. “For the sort of guy who could commit to the responsibility of children.”

I thinned my lips, adjusting the heavy sack. His eyes widened.

“Sorry, I?—”

Not wanting to hear it, I set down the bag of soil, grabbed my knife off my belt, and went about ripping open the bag and dumping the soil onto the prepared bed. That didn’t calm me down the way I thought it would, so I grabbed Kess’s bag, ripped it open, and dumped it out as well.

Kess followed me back to the pallets. “I think I said the wrong thing.”

Stevie had followed us over and was quiet as her luminous amber eyes ping-ponged back and forth between us.

I sheathed my knife, then pushed a couple of trays into her waiting hands. “Let’s do this, Stevie-girl. Alternate the lavender and the sage in the back of the bed and put the dark green ground cover in front.”

She looked again at the two of us. “Okay, Uncle Rowdy.”

Laden with trays and gardening tools, she made her way over and went to work, mixing the turned-up earth with the prepared soil.

Grinding my teeth, I pushed the additional trays of lavender and sage at Kess and bent down to snatch the hoe from its spot on the ground. Kess sidled next to me as I grabbed my gloves from my back pocket and shoved my hands into them.

“Okay, I definitely said the wrong thing, and I’m sorry. I?—”

“Do you even know what you’re sorry for?” I asked, gripping the top of the hoe as my eyes found his. “Or do you not understand how offensive that was?”

“To be honest, I didn’t know that I could offend you,” he said, trying to play it off.

“No, I’m sure you didn’t,” I snapped out, looking away, embarrassed by how much that hurt my feelings.

I didn’t know what my problem was—in the time we’d known each other, I’d cemented my reputation as an unserious man with no future goals other than my next imaginary hookup. Kess wasn’t mistaken ; he hadn’t assumed . He was reacting to the persona I’d shown him day in and day out for two years. This was my doing.

Before he could respond, I stomped over to the first tree I saw and swung the hoe down as violently as I could. I cut in a circle around the tree, removed the grass, then loosened the existing dirt before dumping a bag of soil.

I could practically hear Kess staring at me. I had never snapped at him like that. Ever. I certainly wasn’t going to explain my reaction because that led to far too many questions, and I was not ready for him to know any of the answers.

Guilt only compounded the shitty ick of it all. I’d wanted to give him a peek of the real me, and I couldn’t reasonably be mad and hurt at him for bantering in the way we always had. Reason , unfortunately, hadn’t yet shown its face, so I kept swinging that goddamn hoe.

After a few painfully quiet moments, Kess started asking Stevie questions about placement and depth for the plantings, and they kept up an amiable conversation as they filled in the beds that led to the front of the house. By the time I started on the second tree, I started to calm down.

“Uncle Rowdy?” I turned, and Stevie was approaching me with a canteen in her hands and concern stitching her brows. “Here’s some water.”

“Thanks, Stevie-girl,” I said, gulping down half of the bottle. “Wow, I was thirstier than I thought.”

“Yeah. Uh, Kessie thought you looked a little dehydrated.”

She toed the dirt with the tip of her cowboy boot, looking every bit the awkward teenager. “Uncle Rowdy? Are you okay?”

“Sorry, sweetie. I was just grumpy.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Try bleeding for five to seven days every month. Then you’ll really know what grumpy is about.”

I barked out a laugh. Fucking Stevie.

Her eyes returned to her boots. “I just thought you were mad because Kessie’s been going on dates.”

That she knew it would bother me was both humiliating and a kick in the stomach. Because it did bother me. It bothered me so fucking much.

I plastered on a smile. “Why would I be mad about Uncle Kess going on a couple dates?”

After all, it’s exactly what he said he was going to do.

“I just...” She bit at her lower lip. “Okay.”

My phone went off, and I playfully shouldered her before I pulled up the screen. “It’s okay, Stevie-girl, I promise. I’m just in a mood.”

I cursed as the message came through.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“Not...really,” I lied. Again. Stopping to give her a hug, I said, “Sorry to ditch y’all, but can you keep helping Uncle Kess? I’ve got to go into town.”

“Oh. Do you have a date?” she asked, so innocently. “Is that why you don’t mind Kessie seeing someone else?”

Kess went quiet and I glanced over my shoulder. Sure enough, he was listening in on our conversation.

Not that it was any of his business, but I raised my voice when I answered her. “No, sweetie, I don’t have a date. A friend of mine needs a little help, that’s all.”

“Oh. I hope everything’s okay.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Another lie.

“I hope it goes okay, but you owe me, like, twenty bucks for the swear jar,” she said, smirking. “Because you were cussing the whole time you were putting in that lantana.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, even as my chest ached from the thought of Kess seeing other men. It was impossible to be in a bad mood when Stevie was around.

We’d retired the swear jar when she realized how much she enjoyed cussing, but, for old times’ sake, I grabbed my wallet out of my back pocket, slid out a twenty, and handed it to her. “Thanks for making me laugh, sweetheart. I needed it.”

“No problemo, Uncle Rowdy,” she said, snatching the bill from my hand. “Thanks for sponsoring my next T-shirt.”

Dusting myself off, I handed her the hoe and gave her another hug.

“Keep an eye on this city boy, Stevie-girl. Don’t let him go up any ladders.”

She giggled. “There’s zero chance of that happening. Kessie’s afraid of heights, didn’t you know?”

I smiled. “I did know.”

She leaned in conspiratorially. “He once tried to help Dad with Christmas lights and freaked out just four rungs up,” she said, not bothering to lower her voice.

“This disloyalty is noted,” Kess called out.

I pulled out my wallet again and gave her another twenty. “Worth every penny.”

Taking a deep breath, I turned to Kess. “I need to go into Austin.”

“You going to see Skylar?”

I shook my head. “Just a friend who needs help.”

“No worries,” he said, seemingly more careful with his words. “Stevie and I have it from here.”

I saluted them and headed across the way to my truck. As I was backing out of the driveway, I pulled up a call on Bluetooth.

“Oh God, Rowdy. Thank you for calling me back.”

Sadie was the mother of a kid I’d been mentoring through the youth program, and her text made me wonder if any of the things I’d discussed with her son had penetrated that thick skull of his.

“Has Jaxon been arrested?”

“Not yet,” she said, her voice falling apart.

“Let me speak to the manager.”

“Okay.”

“Hello?” a man said a few seconds later.

Something in the tone of his voice gave me hope.

“Hey, I know this is a shitty situation. I’m an hour out—can you keep him there if I promise to pay for the shoes?”

After a bit of a hesitation, the man said, “I haven’t put it into the system yet. If you’re not here in an hour, I’ll have to do it.”

“That’s all I ask,” I said, my heart pounding.

I was gonna get there early, and I didn’t care which speed limits I broke to get it done.