âItâs been a while sinceâ¦well, Iâve done this.â
âHow long is âa whileâ?â Dean asked.
She closed her eyes, took a breath and then tipped her head back to look straight at him. âSix years.â
Deanâs heart stopped for a moment, before it went into overdrive. To be the first man sheâd slept with after such a long timeâ¦
âShelby, maybe we should think about thisââ
Her fingers halted his moving lips. âI have been thinking about this, in ways I never allowed myself before I met you. Please tell me Iâm not the only one.â
He nodded, his throat too constricted to allow him to speak. How many times had he woken up, reaching across his empty bed, wanting and wishing she was there?
âNo thinking about the past or the future, okay?â Her voice was soft. âNot tonight. Tonight is about right here, right nowâ¦you and me. Thatâs enough.â
âIs it? Is whatâs about to happen here enough for you?â
âItâs everything.â
âWell, arenât you the picture of domestic bliss.â
Dean Pritchett didnât look up from his e-reader. Even though his most recent download was an old favorite heâd already read numerous times, there was no need. He had a feeling his brother wasnât done yet.
âHmm, you seem to be enjoying that spin cycle a bit too much,â Nick continued, his voice laced with typical sarcastic humor. âI think youâve been cooped up in this trailer too long, little brother.â
Shifting his weight as the decades-old washing machine beneath him finally switched into high speed, Dean stayed put despite his brotherâs teasing. Heâd learned the first weekend of staying in this government-sponsored mobile home that perching something heavy, like himself, on top was the only way to keep the appliance from dancing across the tiny laundry roomâs floor during the last cycle.
âYouâre just jealous because I got here first.â
âIâd rather do my âspinningâ the old-fashioned way.â Nick propped one shoulder against the open doorway. âAnd itâs about time you did, too.â
He finally looked up. âIâll pass. Thanks.â
âWrong answer, bud. That mightâve worked when Dad and Cade were still here, but now I need a new wingman.â
Dean stared at his brother. He was the shortest of all the Pritchett kids, but built like a football player. All muscle. He had the same blond hair and blue eyes as their oldest brother and baby sister, unlike Dean who had inherited their motherâs deep green color.
Nick also had the charms that made sure he was rarely at a loss for company.
âYou havenât needed a wingman since you were fourteen,â Dean said, âand came home with the phone numbers of three cheerleaders in your pocket. All seniors.â
Nick returned his smile. âYeah, those were the days. But if you think Iâm going to let you sit here and stare at that gadget all nightââ he snatched the tablet from Deanâs hand ââyouâre wrong.â
âHey!â
âAt least tell me youâre reading something hot like the latest issue of Biker Babes Gone Wildââ He peered at the screen, then guffawed. âWait, The Collected Works of Jane Austen? Thatâs chick stuff.â
âJane Austen is a literary giant,â Dean shot back. âHer work is classic and timeless and she was Momâs favorite author. She gave me my first book.â
âOkay, professor. At least itâs not Shake-N-Stir.â
The washing machine ended its run. Dean hopped down and reclaimed his e-reader, flipping the cover closed to put it to sleep. âThatâs Shakespeare, you doof.â
âWhatever.â Nick pushed away from the door. âCome on, itâs time to put the books away and suck down a few cold ones. And change that shirt.â
Dean looked down at his gray T-shirt with the big block letters stating REAL MEN READ. âAbby gave this to me at Christmas. And itâs the last clean shirt I have.â
Nick eyed the pile of freshly folded laundry before yanking a snap-front Western-style shirt still warm from the dryer and tossed it at him. âHere, put this on. Girls in Rust Creek Falls love cowboys.â
Dean snorted. The Pritchett family had a working ranch back home in Thunder Canyon, about three hundred miles south of here, so technically they could be called cowboys. Lord knew he and his siblings had all worked the land alongside their father from the moment they could walk. And yes, he often wore a battered Stetson while heâd worked here in town to keep the sun out of his eyes.