Maisey Yates

Slow Burn Cowboy


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belongs to you.”

      “This place does belong to me, asshole.”

      “Not legally. It belongs to all of us. I guess you could say it’s a Donnelly operation now.”

      Finn was pretty sure his head was going to blow clean off, right there in his grandpa’s living room. Then these three jackasses would get the place all to themselves.

      “If I walked,” Finn said through gritted teeth, “you couldn’t run this place. I am the only one of us here who could do it. You’re all dependent on me. I do not need any of you. Remember that.”

      There was a knock on the door and Alex raised a brow, then his finger, pretending to count all of the people in the room.

      “It’s dinner,” Finn growled.

      “Hello.” Lane’s voice floated in from the entry.

      “In the living room,” Finn called.

      “Great,” came the response. “I’m bringing the food into the kitchen because there is a metric ton of this nonsense.”

      All of his brothers were looking at him now. “My friend said she would bring dinner,” he said. “Though why I’m feeding you is beyond me.” He wished he hadn’t thought to feed them now, although, rage aside, there was nothing he could do about any of this.

      It wasn’t like he could withhold food and walk around the house ignoring them. Well, he supposed he could. But if he knew anything about Donnellys, that would only make them dig their heels in deeper.

      Alex arched a brow. “Your friend?”

      “Yes,” he said, nearly snarling. “My friend. Because women have brains and personalities, not just breasts, you jackass.”

      “I usually just consider the brains and personalities obstacles to navigate on my way to the breasts,” Liam said.

      Cain nearly growled. “Watch your mouth. Boys talk like that, not men. As I’ve often told my teenage daughter. Who lives in this house now. And I won’t have you saying shit like that around her.”

      “It’s just talk,” Liam said.

      “It’s never just talk, little brother. Man up.”

      “Dinner,” Finn barked, turning out of the living area and making his way into the kitchen. Lane was already setting up, a giant bowl of green salad with tongs sticking out the top sitting on the counter. Next to it was a silver pan covered in foil.

      Lane was nowhere to be seen.

      She appeared a minute later with two more tin pans. One that was filled with meatballs and sauce, another that had pasta.

      “Did I go overboard?” she asked.

      “Yes,” he said, trying to correct his tone.

      Lane didn’t deserve his mood.

      She clapped. “Good. I would rather have you overfed than underfed.”

      “Judging by how good that smells, I don’t think you have to worry about us not eating,” Alex said, walking into the room. Liam and Cain weren’t far behind.

      “Lane,” Finn said, noticing that his tone was more than a little bit surly, but not able to correct it, “this is my brother Alex, and my brother Liam. You met Cain yesterday. Kind of.”

      Lane waved. “Hi. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to eat with you. Because this really is enough to feed a small army.”

      “You cook,” Cain said with a crooked smile, “you make the rules. And based on the meal I ate last night, let me just add that you can cook for us anytime.”

      “I am fairly amazing,” she said, putting her hand on her chest, her expression turning overly sincere. “Just don’t fall in love with me.” She threw a stack of paper plates next to the food. “And dig in.”

      “I’m going to go see if Violet wants dinner,” Cain said. “Though I’d probably have better luck if I texted her.” But he turned and walked out of the room anyway.

      They began to fill their plates in silence, and a few minutes later Cain reappeared with Violet, who hung back against the wall. Finn studied her for a moment. She was petite. Short and narrow. But her face was pure Donnelly. From the brown hair that hung into her blue eyes, to the firm set of her jaw and mouth. It almost made Finn feel sorry for his brother. Because Donnellys were not easy people to deal with.

      “You remember your uncle Alex,” Cain said, gesturing. “And your uncle Liam.” He said Liam’s name with a slight edge.

      “Hey,” Violet said, barely nodding her head.

      “That’s teenager for I love you and miss you and thought about you every day since I last saw you,” Cain supplied.

      That earned a snort from Alex. Neither of them moved to hug Violet, and Finn had a feeling the teenager was only relieved by the lack of forced contact.

      Suddenly, Finn was feeling a little bit embarrassed. That Lane was witnessing all of this. The strange, brittle family dynamic. He felt like he was walking across a lake that had frozen over. The ground cracking beneath his feet, and he was never sure which footstep would send him straight through and down to his freezing watery death.

      The rest of them were at least all living the same hell. But Lane... Well, to her they must look like a bunch of dysfunctional idiots.

      “So,” Lane said, her tone a little too bright, which confirmed Finn’s suspicions, “Violet, what grade are you going to be in?”

      “A junior,” she said. “Unless I end up having to repeat a grade because I’m not prepared for advanced tractor mechanics and cow-tipping.”

      “I doubt you’ll have to take those classes. They probably fill up early,” Lane said, keeping her tone chipper. “Then again, I can’t speak from experience. I didn’t actually go to school at Copper Ridge High.”

      “How much has the town changed in the past ten years?” Alex asked. “I figure that’s relevant since we are going to be living here now.”

      Finn knew that Alex was just poking him now. It didn’t make the sinking in his gut any less real.

      “Oh,” Lane said, shooting Finn a look of surprise.

      “He was our grandfather too,” Liam said. “And this matters. It means something. God knows we’ll never get anything from our father. But we got this, and not him. For that reason alone, I want to stay.”

      That hit Finn somewhere vulnerable. Somewhere he didn’t want to examine too closely. It made Liam’s reasoning seem almost justified. And that wasn’t what Finn wanted at all.

      “Well, things actually have changed quite a bit here,” Lane began. “Just in the past few years we’ve been really revitalizing Old Town. For my part, I bought the old Mercantile, and I sell specialty foods.”

      “Oh, that boutique food stuff is doing well right now,” Liam said. “If I was still doing start-ups, that would be something I’d look to invest in.”

      Lane sent Finn a triumphant look. “Interesting.” She turned her focus to his brothers, and he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what she had to say next, “I’ve been trying to talk Finn into expanding the ranch’s dairy products so that I can sell them in my store.”

      “Lane,” Finn said, his tone full of warning.

      “Sorry,” she said, licking some sauce off of her thumb, which momentarily distracted him from his irritation. And that was even more irritating. “The business is just on my mind and it slipped out. Especially because I’m going to be starting those subscription boxes soon.”

      “Smart,” Liam said. “I think it’s always a good idea to branch out beyond the local economy if you can.”

      “See?”