Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders 15)

“What makes you think something’s up?” Brandt asked evenly.

“It’s a Thursday night. You guys are both getting kids to bed and stuff during the week. I usually see you on the weekends.”

“Not lately, bro. You’ve been spending all your weekends with Rory.”

“And most weeknights,” Tell added. “We asked you out last week, but you had plans.”

“Rielle invited us over for supper. First time she’s acknowledged me’n Rory are involved, so it was kind of a big deal.” He didn’t know why Rory’s mom intimidated the hell out of him; she just did, which was ridiculous because the woman was the same size as a garden sprite. But her love for Rory—holy shit, talk about fierce. No doubt if Dalton somehow wronged her baby girl, she’d just bury him in her garden and no one would ever know the difference.

“So you’re not avoiding us?”

“No.”

“Just certain family members?” Brandt asked.

Meaning Casper. Maybe he oughta just buck up and tell them the truth so they could be done with this.

Lettie brought the beer to the table, mostly so she could flirt with Tell. Tell gave it right back to her in a way that had both Dalton and Brandt laughing.

Dalton took a drink of beer and settled into the booth. “How long’s it been since you guys hung out here?”

“Me’n Georgia used to come here all the time. No surprise Jackson’s arrival into our lives cut our bar time short. But we meet up with the gang at least once a month.”

“Hitting the bars never was me’n Jess’s thing, so it’s been a while for me.” Brandt looked around. “Nothin’ ever changes in here, does it?”

“Yeah, well, not all change is good,” Tell said.

Dalton decided to tackle that statement head on. “Hard not to feel that was directed at me, Tell.”

“And if it was?”

“Then I’d ask how far into this family shit you’re willing to wade. ’Cause it goes a helluva lot deeper than what you’re seein’ on the surface.”

That response jarred them into silence for a bit.

But Tell wasn’t a back-down kind of guy. “And that right there just proves my theory.”

“Tell, don’t,” Brandt warned.

“It’s all good, Brandt. I wanna hear his theory.”

Tell leaned forward. “You didn’t cut and run only because of Addie. And you knew that day you said goodbye to us that you wouldn’t be comin’ back anytime soon. So I gotta ask if staying away had to do with something me or Brandt had done to you.”

This was it. Dalton spun his bottle on his cocktail napkin. “You guys hadn’t considered that might be part of my issue until I pointed it out to you the day I left. Did any of it resonate? Or was the problem—aka me—solved when I bailed?”

“To be honest, it seriously f**ked us both up,” Brandt said hotly. “You laid that on us, took off, and left us with such goddamned…guilt and no way to make it right with you. If your intent was to force us to stew in our own juices, then it worked.”

Dalton shook his head. “What I said to you that day, I said without malice or without an ulterior motive. Do you wish I’da just left without giving you any idea on why?”

“Some days, yeah. Those days that Brandt and I spent drivin’ around doin’ chores together, when we couldn’t talk about it because there was just another big hole in our lives, that no amount of talkin’ would ever fill. You think your leavin’ didn’t affect us? Fuck you. We’d already lost one brother and then poof, you were gone too. And we had to live with the fact that we played a part in driving you away.” Tell drained his beer. “Fuck. I don’t wanna do this. There’s part of me that believes talkin’ about this shit is actually gonna make it worse.”

You have no idea.

“But you’re here, we’re here, and it’s time, little bro,” Brandt said in that don’t argue tone.

“Order another round. We’re gonna need it.” Dalton headed for the bathroom, but ended up pacing in the hallway. He had a bout of motherfucking nerves that just about had him bolting out the door.

He pressed his shoulders against the wall and closed his eyes, his last conversation with Casper three years ago pushed front and center just like it’d happened yesterday.

He’d been sitting outside his trailer, nursing a whiskey when Casper had shown up. As soon as the man had climbed out of his pickup, and Dalton had seen the mean set to his mouth, he slammed the booze, knowing he’d need it.

“I’m surprised you’re out of hiding. You always have run away instead of bein’ a man and facing up to your mistakes.”

Dalton said nothing. His dad was on a tear and he’d stay on it until he’d had his full say.

“You’re a fool for leaving that sweet Addie at the altar. Don’t know how you ever convinced that nice Christian girl to marry you anyway with your reputation for drinkin’, gamblin’, whorin’ and brawlin’.”

He shoved his ball cap back and looked right into those cruel blue eyes. “How’s a church-going, recovering alcoholic, who don’t even live in this town anymore, who don’t have nothin’ to do with his sons, know so much about my supposed reputation?”

“Such a smart mouth,” Casper sneered. “Don’t think this scandal is gonna go away anytime soon. You really screwed the pooch on this one.”

Dalton laughed. “Thought you cut out all vulgar language.”

“What I said ain’t as vulgar as what you done.” His gaze scrutinized Dalton’s every facial injury. “See some of it’s already caught up with you.”

“Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

“I’d love to be around the next time someone knocks that smug look off your face.”

Dalton flashed his teeth. “Or you’re welcome to try and do it yourself, right now, old man.”

Casper snorted. “Says a lot about your character that you’d get off on beating me up.”

“You only have yourself to blame since that’s a trait I inherited from you.”

“You inherited nothin’ from me,” he spat. “’Bout time you knew the truth. So after this last stunt you pulled, I prayed for divine assistance, needing His direction. He gave me the sign I needed.”

“And what did God tell you to do? Ride out here and berate your son until he begged for forgiveness for adding another black mark to the McKay name?” Dalton demanded.