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“To what do I owe this visit?” I ask.
He runs his hand through his hair and looks at Jude. “How’s the training going?”
“Fuck off. I’ve been planting corn for half my life.” Nothing grates on me more than my brothers acting as though I’m an idiot.
“And he should be able to do it all by himself next year.” Jude pats me on the shoulder.
“Or I’ll be running the dude ranch,” I say, staring at Ben. “How’s that going anyway?”
Jude looks from me to Ben and back to me. “What am I missing?”
Ben blows out a breath and shoots Jude a look like he shouldn’t ask.
“Ben and Gillian think I can’t keep my dick in my pants.” I cross my arms.
“And?” Jude asks, eyeing Ben.
“He wanted insurance so that I had an incentive not to touch Briar.”
“And?” Jude’s tone is one of exhaustion, which I do love bringing him to.
“Before we get to that, the horseshoe fitting video I did got more views than your gender reveal. I’m starting to get followers?—”
“Jesus.” Jude rocks his head back, stuffing his hands in his pockets and sending Ben a pleading look to save him.
“I told him I’d help him get the votes,” Ben says.
“Votes?” Jude asks, eyes narrowing on Ben.
“For the dude farm,” Ben says in the same exhausted voice as Jude.
“Fuck, you heard Dad.” Jude’s voice gets louder. “We have shit we need to get done around here. You need to learn my job.”
“Which I would’ve known already if you’d taught me before you knocked up your best friend.” I’m so sick of Jude acting as though it’s my fault he hasn’t let me take on more up to this point.
Jude charges me, but Ben gets in the middle, a hand on both of our chests.
“It’s the truth,” I say. “You’ve held back all the responsibilities as if I can’t handle it.”
“You can’t!” Jude snaps.
I laugh—not a real one, a forced one that sounds almost sad because it’s what I knew he thought the whole time. “Fuck off, Jude.”
I walk out of the barn.
“Emmett,” Jude calls.
I put my hand in the air, ready to leave them and disappear from this ranch, but anger overtakes me, and I spin around. “You don’t even know me. You think so low of me? Fuck, I’m your brother.”
“I just meant you don’t take anything seriously. You?—”
“Save it. I’m glad you both are so put together, so fucking perfect, and I’m the screw-up, right? The dumb one. The one who can’t be responsible. Well, you guys don’t know shit about me. The only thing you know about me is what I let you.”
Neither of them says anything, and I spin back around.
“Emmett,” Ben says, “that’s not it. Just listen?—”
“Yeah, I’m done listening.” I walk toward my house, leaving my truck behind. I need to cool off before I get behind the wheel.
