Standing His Ground: Greer (Porter Brothers Trilogy 2)

“You and Tate are making a mistake,” Curt threatened as he got back into the truck.

“We’re the ones you shouldn’t make an enemy. The last family who started a feud with us didn’t have anyone left to carry on their name.”

Tires spun in the gravel as Tate and Greer watched Curt angrily flick him off as they drove out of the yard.

“Don’t do it,” Tate warned as Greer put the shotgun on his shoulder.

He pulled his finger back from the trigger. “I was only going to take out his taillights,” Greer spat out, lowering his gun. “Who you been running your mouth to about that Gold?”

Tate didn’t take his eyes off the direction the truck had gone. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

“Me? Who would I tell?”

“Diane. Or anyone at Rosie’s when you’re drinking.”

“I haven’t opened my mouth. You’re the one who gave Sutton’s boss those plants. I told you not to. You’re the one who has trouble keeping your trap shut.”

“Liam didn’t stay long enough to talk to anyone. He took the plants, put them in his rental car, and left town twenty minutes later.” Tate glared at him as they walked up the steps to the front porch.

“Well, someone has been blabbing. If it wasn’t me or you, who do you think it was?”

“I don’t know who. When Dustin gets home, maybe he’ll have an idea. He’s in town more than we are. Perhaps he’s heard something.”

“He spends as much time at Rosie’s as I do. It could be he’s the one who’s been bragging how good it is.”

“Might be, but I don’t think so.” Tate shook his head doubtfully. “You really thinking the State Police are watching us, or was Curt saying that to get us to sell to him?”

“Either that or he is an informant trying to get us to admit what we’re selling on tape.”

“I can see Curt doing that. He’s always trying to get out of some trouble. He wouldn’t have a problem sending us to the pen to keep his own ass out.”

Greer reached for his cell phone.

“Who you calling?” Tate asked.

“Shade. That fucker knows every fart everyone lets out in town.”

“Don’t. This is family business. I’ll text Cash. He and Rachel can come over tonight.”

“Since when do we consider Cash family?”

“Since he married our sister.” Impatiently, Tate reached for his cell phone.

“Rachel hasn’t divorced him yet?”

“You know she hasn’t. You just saw her a few days ago.”

“A man can dream.”

“You’re the numbskull.” Tate put his phone back in his pocket.

“Don’t act like you like him any better than I do.”

“He’s grown on me since Ema’s been born.”

“I have a wart growing on my big toe; that doesn’t mean I’m attached to it,” he jeered.

“When he comes over, don’t start a fight. It gets Rachel upset.”

Greer gave him a grin. “Cash can use a night on the couch.”

Tate returned his grin. “I need to get back home. I don’t want to leave Sutton alone with Curt snooping around.”

“I told you that motion detector camera at the front of the driveway was a good idea. That ringing is a pain in the ass, but it lets us know when someone is coming up the driveway.”

Tate had argued about the expense. Now he had to acknowledge its usefulness.

“You were right. But every time a deer or jackrabbit sets it off, it gets aggravating.”

“Would you rather it be the Colemans or the Hayes?”

“No. I’m surprised Dustin didn’t call when he heard it ring.”

“He had a meeting with Willa, so he probably turned it off.” Greer shrugged. “He knows we can take care of ourselves, and Logan’s at school.”

“He knows Holly’s home today.”

“That reminds me. There’s something I want to talk about tonight during the family meeting.”

“If it involves throwing Holly out, save your breath.”

When Greer opened his mouth, Tate shook his head. “We can talk tonight. What time do you want me to tell Cash and Rachel to come over?”

“Tell them to come to dinner. Holly’s cooking a roast big enough to feed the town, and she put enough onions in it that Cash won’t be the only one sleeping on the couch, unless you down a bottle of mouthwash when you get home.”

Tate winced. “She put any garlic in it?”

“Nah, she’s out. She forgot it at the store. I don’t mind the garlic; it’s the onions that bother me.”

“Diane must have gone nose blind to let you spend the night with her. Between your garlic concoction and Holly feeding you onions every night, I’m surprised you can talk your way into her house. I smell you coming when you’re ten feet from my front door.”

“I haven’t been eating at the house lately. That’s what I want to talk about tonight.”

Tate frowned. “Sounds like it’s serious.”

“It is.”

“Then Sutton and I will be there at six.”