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“Can I go play football with them?” Bam asks.
I turn my attention back to the game. I don’t see any kids playing, and all those guys look like they eat kids for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Bam is a big kid for thirteen, but he’s not ready for those guys.
Just as I have the thought, the big guy with the man bun trucks one of the redheads. They all burst into laughter, a few wincing and shaking their heads.
“Maybe you should wait to see if the younger kids start a game,” I reply.
I step from the truck and head for the porch. I don’t see Paige or Bobby yet. I pull my Stetson off and run my fingers through my hair.
My mind goes to Lynn and what she would like. Lasalle and Uri have clean sharp cuts. If this is the guy who always cuts their hair, I wouldn’t mind if he took care of this for me.
“Trevor, good to see you,” LaSalle says. “Roark Tarantino, this is Trevor Monroe.”
The barber puts his clippers down and wipes his hands off on a towel before holding his hand out. “Call me Ro, man. It’s nice to meet you.”
I give his hand a shake. “Trev is fine. Nice to meet you too.”
“Daddy just called his barber for a haircut, but he’s not available,” Bam says.
I groan and roll my eyes. Clearly this man has traveled here to Texas to cut hair. This may be a cut I’m not willing to pay for.
“It’s on me. Ro will hook you up,” LaSalle says as if reading my thoughts.
“Sure, Bro. If you don’t mind the wait. I’m doing adults today kids tomorrow,” Ro says.
I glance around again. I think I spot Paige until Nate walks over to kiss the woman I’m looking at. Not Paige, Pam.
“They went down the to the courthouse,” Uri says.
I turn to find him watching me intently. Placing a hand on top of Bam’s head, I nod. My decision is made. I want a fresh start in all things. I’ll wait.
“This construction friend, da? Bradley’s brother,” the big blond with the Russian accent says.
He has a little brown-faced version of himself sitting in his lap. The little guy looks to be around five or six. He has the same icy blue eyes and blond hair that’s shaved on the sides and piled on top his head in a bun.
“Trevor, this is Misha. Another of our associates. And the other big guy is Logan.”
“Aye, nice to meet ya. Yer sure to have a lot of work in New York. I’ll be keeping ya busy for at least a year,” Logan says through his Irish brogue.
I shake Misha’s hand as he looks at me through his icy blue gaze. Then I shake with Logan. His expression is just as stern as Misha’s, but his green eyes hold a small hint of mischief.
“It’s nice to meet both of you. I’m looking forward to the work.”
“Sit, my friend. Seems you become family. Time I get to know you,” Misha says.
Brad stands and offers me his seat. I take the chair and settle in while Ro goes back to cutting LaSalle’s hair. Brad takes Scoot and Bam with him.
Billings has remained quiet so far. I don’t think much of it. This is his employer after all, and I don’t know how their dynamic works.
“Tell me something about you,” Misha says, grabbing my attention.
I rub at my jaw. “I was born and raised here in Texas,” I begin.
***
It’s been about three hours. I haven’t laughed so much in a long time. There’s a brotherhood among these men. Like the sisterhood I see among their wives. They have all welcomed me in like family.
Val and Tasha pull up and park by my truck. They both do a double take as they see me. I give a smile. Ro does damn good work.
“Hot damn, Roark strikes again,” Tasha croons. “You were already a fine man, but damn.”
LaSalle chuckles good naturedly. Tam had pretty much the same reaction when I got out of the chair. Then there was Cass, my new favorite person.
She pulls no punches and bites her tongue for no one. Not even the cute little girl attached to her side who was clearly upset with her foul language.
Speaking of the two, they come out of the large cabin. Cass seems to be running from the little girl. I’m amused as I watch the two.
“I can’t even go to the Jacks without ye tied to me hip. I stubbed me toe because yer little bum was right on me. Leave me be, Jordan.
“I wouldn’t have cursed if I had some space. Yer a chiseler, seven, ye are, and not the boss of me. If ye don’t like the words that come out of me mouth, don’t yarn to me,” Cass snarls, her accent becoming thicker with each word.
