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He growls. Literally, an animalistic sound rumbles up from his throat. “Don’t play games.”
I laugh because it’s comical how protective my brothers are about anything that affects their women. I mean, can regular pussy really be that good?
“Help me get the votes I need, and it’s a deal. I won’t lay a finger on little Briar.”
“Good.” He holds his palm out to me.
“You better campaign for this idea like you’re really behind it and not say some bullshit like ‘I told Emmett if he didn’t go after Briar, then I’d help him get the votes.’ I want real excitement.”
He nods. “Fine.”
“And Gilly Bean can’t know.”
His eyes narrow. “I’m not lying to her.”
“I’m not asking you to lie. I’m telling you to keep it between us. She’s not going to pry if I’m holding up my end of the bargain.”
He spits again on his hand. “Fine. Now fucking shake on it.”
“Say please,” I say, delaying because I realize that maybe I should be offended by this whole arrangement. Am I really that bad of a choice for Briar that he’s willing to do this? I may have my fun, but I’m not into dicking girls around and hurting them.
I shake my head to free all the insecurities inflicted on me by being the youngest, most “immature” brother, which is a role I play like a damn Oscar-award winner. They want it, they expect it, and I give it to them on a silver platter.
“Shake my damn hand,” Ben says, low and growly again.
I spit in my palm and shake hands with him. Why did we ever think that sharing saliva made our promises to one another more binding? Kids are stupid, and apparently, we still are since we’re continuing the tradition.
“Who do you want me to hit up first?” Ben grabs a towel off the bench and wipes his hand.
“The girls.”
He groans, but I need the girls if I’m going to get eight votes. “Fine.”
“Good doing business with you. Now get the fuck out of here so I can finish this job. You’ll be happy to know that I have a date tonight.”
“With your hand?” Ben asks, already walking backward out of the barn.
“With Briar.”
His face falls.
“I’m kidding,” I say. “I’ve never lost a bet, and I won’t lose this one.”
He nods a few times, but his expression says he’s unsure.
I could do this in my sleep. I should draw up the plans for the dude ranch right now. This is a bet I’m gonna win, hands down.
Chapter Nine
Briar
Today is my first official day of running a yoga class in Willowbrook. Since The Getaway Lodge isn’t huge, and there aren’t a huge number of guests at any one time, they’ve allowed people who aren’t guests at the lodge to pay to join the class. I’m really not sure how many people will come, and I worry this job will be extinct before I can make some money. Then I’m not sure what I’ll do. Gillian mentioned I could take her hours at her best friend Laurel’s bakery since she’s so busy now, but it’s not that many hours. Certainly not enough to live on.
As usual, Darla’s hip is propped up against a chair as she talks more with her hands than her voice to a guest. She spots me and excuses herself with a touch of her hand on the person’s shoulder. Darla has a grace I’m not sure I could master even if I went to finishing school. She’s welcoming and sweet and kind, but she doesn’t have to force it. It’s just who she is. Whereas I always come off as abrupt and even cold, sometimes unintentionally.
“Briar, you always look so put together.” She takes my wrists and brings me to her before wrapping her arms around me and hugging me just as tightly as she did the first time.
I pat her back, but it looks awkward to spectators, I’m sure. While she’s totally put together, my hair is thrown up in a messy bun, and I’m dressed in matching yoga pants and a sports bra. “Thanks, Darla.”
