Truly, Madly, Whiskey(83)

Bear shrugged. “You’re right. I did. The same ears that heard Mom crying when you had your stroke, wondering how we were going to make it. The same ears that heard Dixie begging for more authority to run the bar on her own since she first got involved. And the same ears that hear your excuses for not giving it to her. She’s capable. She wants it. And damn it, Dad. I’m sorry. You know I respect the hell out of you, but I respect her, too. I can’t sit back and pretend this is okay.” Thinking of Crystal’s struggles with her family, her reason for leaving college, and even telling Gemma the truth pushed him to say more. “You’re a good person and a loving father. Dixie knows that, but you don’t want to be remembered as the guy who held her back. This control, or whatever it is you need to hold over her head. It’s not worth it. She deserves the credit for her work, and honestly, Dad, you owe it to her.”

Bullet pushed to his feet, and they all followed. Anger and nervous energy trailed them like shadows.

“I would have come back,” Bullet said angrily, clearly still hung up on the earlier part of the conversation. He glared at Bear. “I wouldn’t have saddled you with anything you didn’t want. Damn it, bro. You should have said something.”

“I made my choices, and I don’t blame you.” Bear squeezed his hands into fists, trying to keep calm. “There’s no blame to be had. It’s just time to fix this backward situation.”

The sound of their father’s uneven gait drew their attention. He stroked his beard with a distraught expression. “She’s as stubborn as your mother.”

“Dixie?” Bear asked, trying to catch up. “You raised us all to be stubborn.”

His father’s eyes moved between the three of them. “I raised you all to be men, and we raised Dixie to be a strong woman. But she’s as stubborn as your mother. I want more for her. Don’t you see that? Every damn time I tell her she can’t do something, what does she do?”

“She blows it out of the water,” Bear said.

“Exactly.” He limped to within inches from Bear. “I respect your grandfather’s wishes, but I also respect your sister, no matter what you believe. Do you want Dixie to spend the rest of her life in a bar? Around drunken men? Don’t you want more for her?”

“More? Hell, yes. But Dix loves working at the bar and the shop. She doesn’t want to work for anyone else. Have you ever asked her what she wants?”

Bullet stepped up beside Bear, arms crossed, face serious. “What do you want?”

“I want what’s right,” Bear answered. “I want Dixie to manage the project, and whatever else she wants to handle.”

Bones came to Bear’s other side. “No. What do you want? For yourself?”

The question slowed him down. He pushed away the guilt, forcing the truth. “I want to continue at the shop, and I want to work with Silver-Stone designing motorcycles. I’ve paid my dues. I’ve run the bar since I was barely eighteen. But I’m thirty-three, and I’m in love with Crystal. I don’t want her sitting alone at night while I’m working at a bar. Family comes first. Always. She’s my family now, too. That’s what I want, and that’s why I’m selling my shares of the bar to Dixie. The bar is her dream, not mine, and she has earned the right to manage it.”

The muscles in Bullet’s jaw clenched repeatedly. He stepped closer to Bear, and Bear held his breath, waiting for him to cut loose about how what he wanted didn’t matter. But he refused to stand down. Not now, not ever again.

Bullet put a heavy hand on his back and faced their father. “He sells, I sell.”

“Mine’s already a done deal.” Bones held up his phone, on which was a text he’d sent to Dixie ten minutes ago. You can have my shares, too. Love you.

Bear felt the earth tilt on its axis.

Their father scrubbed a hand down his face, eyeing his sons. “Stubborn motherf*ckers. All four of you. No one’s selling a damn thing. You think Dixie means it when she says she wants the bar? Then she’ll have it. I thought I could push her toward something else without having to actually force her out of the family business, but not because she can’t handle it.”

“Right. Because she’s a woman,” Bear said with disgust.

“Damn right because she’s a woman. She should work someplace where there are no drunk guys or late nights. She’s my daughter. Would you want Crystal working at a bar until two in the morning?”

“Hell no.”

“Well, son, maybe one day you’ll understand why I’ve done what I’ve done. But she’s your mother’s daughter. I’ve been trying to get your mother to stop working at the bar for years.”

“You don’t want Red working at the bar?” Bear asked. “But you’re all about family doing it all.”

“Damn right I am.” His father stood up taller. “I know you boys won’t let anything happen to the girls when they’re at the bar. But that doesn’t mean I like them working there. Why do you think I pushed Dixie so hard in college?”

Bear shook his head. “I’m so f*cking confused. Why didn’t you just tell her?”

“Oh, yeah. That would go over well with little Miss I Can Do Anything My Brothers Can Do but Better.” Their father tugged at his beard. “This was the only way I knew to get her to see the light. But she and your mother are two peas in a f*cking pod.”