The Perfect Stroke (Lucas Brothers #1)(35)

That is, until CC.

“Is Grayson still being moony-eyed over that woman?” Blackie asks.

“Seems so. I don’t get it. I haven’t seen a flitter worth that,” Maggie says.

“Magnolia Marie! You did not just say that!” Mama yells.

“Sorry, Mama. Terry has taken to using the word and it just slipped out.”

“You ruined that boy, naming him Terry. You should have kept the family tradition.”

“You mean naming him after where he was created? No, thank you. I don’t need a son named Subaru.”

“Yeah, cause we all know the story of how Maggie whoopty-do’ed in her Subaru and Nine months later…”

Maggie elbows Cyan with a huff. “That wasn’t funny the first five-thousand times and it’s even less funny now that Terry is three years old, dumbass.”

“Ouch! Stop, that hurts! Mama, Maggie called me a name.”

“That’s because you are being a dumbass. I don’t need no grandchild named Subaru. Though you could have named him Cross, dear.”

I smile. It’s an old argument. Maggie was caught in the back of an old Subaru with Bryant Matthews out on Old Cross Road.

“You really need to make an honest man of that boy,” Mama chides her.

“Like you have Janson?” Maggie comes back.

Janson is the foreman of the ranch and the unofficial boyfriend of my mother. Mom had her oldest child when she was barely seventeen, which means she will be turning fifty-four in just a week. All of us like Janson and would love to welcome him completely in the family, but he won’t even move into the house with Mom. For some reason, neither one of them want a traditional relationship of living under one roof. Weird, considering they’ve been together and exclusive for the last eight years.

“Pffft…” Mom waves her off. “At our age,” she says, like they’re eighty, “we’re just celebrating the miracle that we’re both still even interested.”

“There sure is a lot of celebrating going on around here, specifically in the kitchen,” Cyan says, and from the look on his face, I don’t even want to know what he saw.

“Praise Jesus,” Mom says.

I take a drink of my beer to keep from laughing out loud. I manage to hide my smile around the rim of the can; Mom doesn’t need any encouragement.

“Lovey, that damn cow got out again,” Janson growls, sliding onto the edge of the porch, sitting down, and letting his legs hang over the side. He spits out his tobacco and Cyan hands him a beer.

“He just wants his freedom, Jan,” Mom defends.

“If he don’t stop breaking my fence, I’ll give him his freedom. I’ll make sure he gets his ticket to the green pastures in the sky,” Jan grumbles. Mom ignores him, probably because she knows it’s the same empty threat he always gives. Instead, she focuses on the one thing about Janson that she absolutely does not like.

“I thought I told you that if you didn’t give up chewing, Janson Reed, there would be no more celebrating between us?” she grumbles, hitting his back with a fly swatter.

“You did, but I had a talk with the good Lord about it,” Janson says, looking over his shoulder at her. “He said He’d allow the vice, if I celebrated and praised Him harder. So we’re working it out.”

“I call bullshit,” she says, but she’s smiling.

“I’ll show you later,” he promises with a wink.

“I don’t know what’s sadder,” Cyan says.

“What’s that?” Janson asks.

“The fact that my mom gets more action than I do, or the fact that hearing about it is the highlight of my week.”

“Probably both, son,” Janson says.

“Enough about this topic, please? It’s almost dinner time and I need my appetite. Besides, I want to hear about Gray and his new woman.”

“Nothing to tell, Mags,” I grunt, cutting her off.

“Life is short, son. Don’t waste it pissing in the wind. One day, you’ll wake up all alone and stinking to high heaven with nothing but a basket of laundry.”

“That’s deep, Mom,” Cyan says with a laugh.

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“Well, if she’s anything like Grayson’s usual women, she’s an airhead,” Maggie says.

“Yeah, we’ll probably see more of her than we want in the tabloids soon enough,” Cyan agrees.

“She’s not like anyone else,” I growl.

“Do tell, brother.” This comes from White as he comes outside. The screen door squeaks in protest. He leans up against the porch post and looks at me. Shit.





“Mind your own business,” I growl.

White is my oldest brother and he’s a self-declared permanent bachelor, which is a shame because his best friend is a woman named Kayla—a damn good woman, at that. Plus, everyone knows she’s completely in love with White. Well, everyone but him. He doesn’t give a f*ck about anything other than the next bull he’s going to ride. He’s on track to be the world’s champion.

Mom jokes she has a child in every profession and she’s not far from the truth. Bull riding, golf, baseball, fireman, cop, and rancher. Then there’s Cyan. Cyan tells everyone he’s still finding himself, but the truth is that he finds himself at the tables gambling most of the time. That’s just my brothers. My sisters are just as diverse, from a novelist to Maggie, who’s the principal at a local elementary school.