No Good Mitchell - Riley Hart Page 0,4

doing all sorts of riding with her new man? I recalled doing what I could to get rid of her, finding the nearest guy, hoping he wouldn’t deck me for the move, then pulling away and seeing the prettiest fucking face.

And those fucking lips.

I’d never kissed a guy before, and it took me completely by surprise that I didn’t hate it…not even close.

“That was a disaster,” Walker said. “My straight brother got more action at my first time going to the Barn to look for a guy.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure he would have preferred the pretty, gay O’Ralley.”

“Who you calling pretty gay?”

“Pretty and gay, Walker.”

“Gee, thanks.” For the first time since I’d woken up, he looked at me. “Oh, rise and shine over there, Brody.”

I quickly covered my cock with his hat.

“Reminds me,” he continued, “that I’m prettier, gayer, and bigger.”

“Shut the fuck up. It’s plenty big.”

“Still doesn’t make what I said untrue.” Walker winked, and I couldn’t help laughing.

Fuck him if he wasn’t right, not that any of the O’Ralley men had any problems in that department.

“My heart. It’s beating so fucking loud,” Walker said. “This is my punishment. This is what I deserve.”

“No one’s punishing you for being gay.”

“No! For being selfish. I split that brownie and gave you half, but you said you wanted me to save yours. But I didn’t save it. I ate it. I’m so sorry.” He cringed like he was about to cry, which I would have enjoyed far more if I didn’t feel like a goddamn raccoon was banging around in my skull.

The stable door opened. “Found ya!”

“I’m not decent!” I called out.

“I can see that,” Mel said, running her fingers through the freshly dyed blonde bangs in her light-brown hair. “This is very familiar, by the way. Reminds me of high-school days.”

“Our high-school days. You were in middle school and too young to see these things.”

“I was raised with the Internet. I’m that generation that’s seen everything way too soon. Now, Lee and Dwain have been working all morning on breakfast, so get your asses up and over to the house, or I’ll tell Big Daddy about the rumors you’ll both be having to deal with at some point.”

Rumors?

My thoughts went right to my tongue being down that guy’s throat. I hadn’t meant to make it that believable, but when a mouth felt that good…

What the fuck was I thinking? I didn’t do men.

“Okay, heading out,” Melissa went on. “Brody, these led me to you guys. I figured you might need them.” She tossed my jeans and boxers from the night before onto the floor. “Also, your wallet’s floating in the pond. You’re welcome.” She headed out, closing the door behind her.

Wet clothes were better than no clothes, so after sliding them on, I helped Walker to his feet and guided us back to the house. Dwain and Lee were on the back patio, setting the table for breakfast.

“How’s your heart and breathing going?” I asked Walker, still feeling the powerful headache I could only hope would be soothed with some hydration and painkillers.

“Good. I can do this. I can’t believe you made out with a guy last night…or that the naked man I got to wake up with was you. That was supposed to be my big gay night. What do you think Melissa meant by rumors? You think someone saw us out and told Big Daddy that I’m… I’m…”

“It’s a little premature to jump to conclusions, especially as we get closer and closer to him being able to hear us. So unless you want to sing your way out of the closet, you should go ahead and work on not talking right now, okay?”

With the local paper in his lap, Big Daddy gave us a friendly wave, and we settled into the chairs opposite him. “We were over at the stables,” I said, “working on—”

“I don’t need a lie,” Big Daddy said. “You weren’t helping those horses any more than your sister babysat skunks in college.”

Mel chuckled as Dwain and Lee approached and set the coffee and creamer on the table, then took their places opposite each other.

Six chairs taken, leaving one empty.

One for Big Daddy.

Another for Walker, the eldest.

Then one for me.

Then Dwain and Lee—my other two brothers—or the O’Ralley runts, as they were known around town, even though both had outgrown Walker and myself.

And another for Mel, the baby.

But that one lonely chair would always remind us of who was missing—no, who was taken—from our