Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Emmett

T he last thing I want to do on my day off is attend another Sunday night family dinner. After my mom died, the tradition died with her, but now that my brothers have found love, my new sister-in-law and new practically-sister-in-law plan them every week for all of us to catch up.

What do we need to catch up about?

I work with Jude and my dad every damn day on our cattle ranch. When Ben's soon-to-be wife fuels her reality television addiction, he makes my home his.

Recently, Gillian and Sadie, two of the three new additions to the Noughton family, decided our regular Sunday dinners haven't been painful enough, so they added on game night.

I shut my front door, walk down the porch steps, and decide to take my time walking over to Ben's place. If I'm lucky, they'll already be halfway through dinner. Maybe I can say I have a stomachache and sneak out before the game starts.

I love my family. My brothers are my best friends, and you can't ask for better sisters-in-law than Gillian and Sadie. Add on Gillian's son, Clayton, who's always game for throwing around a football, playing a video game, or whatever else we can do to avoid sitting around the table discussing the adult shit, and I've truly won the lottery in terms of family. And not just the scratch-off kind. The big lotto. The one where the jackpot is so big, people travel over state lines to buy tickets. But it doesn't mean I want to spend the last night of every weekend doing family game night.

My family's voices carry through the trees before I round the corner. They're milling around the porch of Ben's brand-new house that was finished right before winter hit. Gillian just put her house on the market.

Almost everyone on the porch turns their attention to me.

My dad hovers at the top of the porch stairs with a beer in hand. "It started at five," he says in his usual tone of "don't give me excuses, next time get your ass here on time."

"I got held up."

My dad grunts but doesn't give me any more shit. Whoever his random was last night, she must've been good in bed.

I walk right into the house, bypassing everyone, and grab a beer from the fridge. I take a long pull as my eyes scan my brother's place. Pictures of him, Gillian, and Clayton hang on every inch of the walls that aren't covered with sweet sayings regarding family and love and cherishing one another. It's weird—my brother's sweatshirt isn't thrown over the back of the couch, the trash bin is empty, and there are no dishes in the sink. So, this is what it's like when Ben lives with a woman.

"Why are you late?" Ben takes a reprieve from fawning over his woman to bug me.

Moments later, Jude joins us in the kitchen clearly ready to gang up on me with Ben. Not much has changed over the years; they've always been a pain in my ass.

"I had things to do." I tip my beer to my lips again, not really wanting to hash out my problems.

Us Noughton boys are good at hiding our issues. Well, we're good at not sharing them. Neither of them told me when they were about to fuck up their futures with the women they love, but Dad and I knew.

"Things or people?" Jude asks, sliding onto the stool to my right. Why is he getting comfortable? The party is on the porch.

"Already had enough of one flavor?" I quirk an eyebrow, and he throws me that fuck off expression he mastered at the age of six. I hold up my hand. "Thought maybe you needed to use your imagination now that you're chained to Sadie."

"You're an asshole," Jude says, sliding off the stool and heading back to the porch.

"Hold up," Ben says to Jude, and he stops and turns around. Ben looks back at me. "You've been distant. We're trying to make sure things are good with you."

"Winter just ended. My vitamin D level is low."

My excuse is weak. I know it. They both know it. But our dynamic has changed in the past nine months. I'm the odd one out. They have couples' dinners and plan little trips to wineries or to Lincoln for football games. I joined them the first few times, but it gets annoying being the fifth wheel. Not that I'm interested in adding a sixth.

Jude slides back onto the stool. Ben remains standing. Their eyes are still on me.

"Sorry if you guys turned your fun cards in when you hitched your wagons to Gillian and Sadie." I finish my beer.

Their gazes both follow the empty beer bottle I set on the counter. Then they share a look. One that says do you want to call him out, or should I?

I get their protectiveness. I was so young when our mom died. I'm not even sure the vision I remember of her is actually her, and that sucks. I much prefer when they bust my balls than when they act all caring. As if I'm going to throw all the shit that fills my brain daily on their laps.

"I get that the family dynamic has changed." Jude takes the first stab at it, but I put up my hand.

"Listen. I get that you're both in tune with your feelings since you're with the loves of your lives, but there's no need to worry about me. I'm happy being single. I'm not lonely. I love my life."

They glance at one another, and I avoid rolling my eyes. Why do they think they know something I don't? Ben's loved Gillian since high school. Jude's loved Sadie since they were six. Do they see some woman on the periphery of my life while I have my head up my ass like them? No.

Gillian walks inside, their new screen door not banging like the rest of ours because Ben made sure to install a fancy one. It slowly clicks shut when she's halfway into the kitchen.

"Am I interrupting?" She doesn't wait for an answer before opening the oven and pulling out a lasagna.

"I knew I smelled something good." I ignore my brothers and lean over the dish of gooey cheese and sauce. I reach to grab a small piece of burned cheese, and Gillian slaps my hand away. "If a woman could promise me this every night, I'd marry her."

Someone scoffs behind me.

The hairs on my neck rise.

A siren blares in my ears.

My body shifts to fight-or-flight mode.

Briar Adams.

Gillian's half sister who always gives me the cold shoulder, has no end to her snarky comments, and always calls me Little Noughton. Hello, I'm inches taller than my brothers, and there's nothing little about me. Not that she seems to care.

Why does she hate me? I have no fucking clue. I'm not a confrontational kind of guy. I'm easygoing. Everyone loves me. I bring humor into a room. But Briar Adams wouldn't know a joke if she paid an ungodly amount of money to sit in the front row of a packed arena and listen to the hottest comedian.

"Briar," I say with a nod.

The room quiets. Neither of my brothers say a word.

"Ben. Jude. Little Noughton." She nods, standing across the giant kitchen island, glaring at me.

My back straightens as I ready to hash out a few rounds. Then I'll go home to beat off because this woman drives me fucking crazy.