Always Enough (Meet Me in Montana #2) - Kelly Elliott Page 0,56

out how reckless I’d been, and with Kaylee, of all women, they would be angry and disappointed. I’d already disappointed them enough.

“Fields are all plowed . . . good job, boys. We can plant them tomorrow. Tanner called your mama and said he’d be in town for a few days. We’ll put him to work as well.”

I smiled, as did Brock.

Our father’s gaze bounced from me to Brock. “Everything okay with you both?”

Brock and I exchanged a look and then nodded at our father. I would never be able to figure out how the man seemed to know when something was off with his sons. He’d always had some weird sense when we were fighting or upset with one another. He especially knew when it was between me and Brock. Before, it had always been about bull riding. Arguing which one of us was better, fighting about God knows what. We’d try to hide it from him, but he always seemed to know.

“Yeah, everything is fine. We’re going to head off and grab some lunch and beer. You want to come with us?” Brock asked. We both knew our father would say no, but inviting him would ease his mind about something being wrong between us.

He frowned. “What happened to your mouth?”

I reached up and flinched when I touched it, then tasted a small amount of blood. Immediately, my gaze went to Brock, who was smirking. The bastard had gotten me good.

“Brock and I got into a bit of an argument,” I said, causing Brock’s eyes to widen in shock. After the whole shit with my drug addiction, I’d sworn to my folks I’d never lie to them again. I meant it. “We worked it out. No worries, Dad,” I added with a smile.

Our father nodded, took another good look at both of us, and laughed. “You two will never change—always settling things with your fists.”

“It’s quicker that way, right, Ty?” Brock smiled and patted our father on the back as he turned and headed over to his truck.

“You boys stay out of trouble. You got a newborn to look after, Brock Shaw.”

Brock’s mouth fell open, and he turned back to me. “And he assumes it’s my fault?”

I shrugged. “You’re the one who punched me, dude.”

With a snarling expression, Brock shook his head. “Where do you want to eat?”

“Filling station sounds good to me.”

He nodded. “Ride together?”

I laughed. “Hell no. I’ll meet you there.”

Brock beat me to the filling station and was sitting at a table talking to Kristin, a waitress who’d been working there since they’d first opened. As I made my way toward the table, a few people said hi and some nodded a silent hello, and I responded with one of my own. A few women gave me sexy smiles; those I ignored and kept on walking.

“Hey, Ty. Something to drink?” Kristin asked.

“Anything on draft, Kristin. Thanks.”

She nodded and smiled before turning and walking off. Brock took a drink of his bottled beer and slowly set it down.

I looked around the restaurant, stalling.

“Okay, I’ll start first, since you’re not. Why don’t you want something more with her?”

My gaze shot back and locked on his. I laughed. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Yes, I am, Ty. It’s about fucking time you say it out loud so the rest of us can understand where the hell your mind is in all of this, not to mention your dick.”

I frowned. “Say what?”

“Tell me. Tell me whatever the hell it is you have in your mind that makes you think you’re not cut out for a relationship.”

Laughing again, I dropped back in my seat. “So you fell in love, got married, and, what, earned your license in psychology all at the same time?”

He rolled his eyes. “Listen, Ty, I get that life fucked you over, and I’m not going to pretend I know what it was like to walk away from bull riding. I had the choice and left on my own. I understand you went through some shit, and I, of all people, get why you’re keeping her at a distance. But you’ve already told me there’s something about her that’s different. It’s fucking obvious that you’re scared of your feelings for her.”

I scoffed.

Kristin walked back over with my beer and set it down, then looked at both of us. “Ready to order?”

“I’ll have the gas hog burger,” Brock said, handing her back the menu.

“Ty?” she asked, waiting for my order. Brock’s words were tumbling around in my head. I