Truly, Madly, Whiskey(86)

“A little testosterone never hurt anyone.” Bones embraced her. “Are you surviving my brother?” He gave her an assessing gaze.

Bear had told her that his brothers knew something had gone down a few years ago, but he hadn’t told them what. She wasn’t surprised. Her man didn’t hide his emotions very well.

“Bones!” Bullet’s deep voice sailed across the yard. “Get your ass over here. We’re going to shoot some hoops.”

She bent to pet Tinkerbell, who was carrying her ball in her mouth. “Doing much better than surviving him, thanks.”

“Good. Glad to hear it.” Bones pulled off his tank top, revealing a sculpted frame and a tattooed chest he kept well hidden behind those professional dress shirts she’d seen him in. He tossed his shirt on one of the chairs. “Sorry, but I have to go show my brothers who’s boss.”

“Told you,” Red said. Tinkerbell trotted over to Red and dropped the ball at her feet. She picked it up and tossed it in the direction of a big weeping willow tree.

“If she digs up my gardens I’m not going to be happy.” Dixie crossed her arms, watching Tinkerbell.

“I was shocked to hear that Bullet gardened,” Crystal admitted.

“His father taught him,” Red explained.

“My dad planted that weeping willow for me when I was seven,” Dixie explained. “He used to read me the story The Wind in the Willows. It was my favorite book. Do you know it?”

“Yes. I read it in grade school. It’s a great story about friendship.”

“Oh, honey,” Red said. “It’s so much more than that.”

“‘Independence is all very well, but we animals never allow our friends to make fools of themselves beyond a certain limit; and that limit you’ve reached,’” Dixie quoted. “It was the backbone of our youth. I loved it so much. I still do.”

Bear’s words came back to her from the night at Woody’s when he’d told her about helping that little boy who had been bullied. Love, loyalty, and respect for all runs as thick as blood through our veins. A blessing and a curse. She hadn’t understood what he’d meant about a curse, but as she’d seen him struggle with family loyalties and his desire to work for Silver-Stone, she’d figured it out. Still, she’d have given anything to have grappled with struggles of being too loved or too counted on, instead of the nightmare her mother had created. She took comfort in his family’s closeness, and it was clear that his decision to stand up to his father and take the offer with Silver-Stone hadn’t torn his family apart but seemed to have brought them closer together.

“He built the bench beneath it, too,” Dixie said, bringing her back to the conversation. “And he planted the gardens around it. Now Bullet keeps them up, since Dad can’t.”

“That’s really sweet,” Crystal said, thinking of her own father and the projects she’d done with him.

“Before his stroke, my husband was a big gardener,” Red explained. “When Bullet came back to civilian life, he had a rough time of it. He’d seen awful things, and he needed to get out of his own head.”

“I know a little about needing to get out of my head,” Crystal said.

Red’s expression warmed. “Unfortunately, we all have our crosses to bear. Bullet pulled through, thanks to the support of his brothers and Dixie. And, of course, us.”

Family. The one thing Crystal hadn’t been able to rely on for so long. But they were helping Jed move next weekend, and she had high hopes of rebuilding at least that part of the family she’d lost.

“I’m surprised Bear didn’t tell you,” Dixie said. “He came over every night while my father and Bullet worked on the yard. He said it was because he wanted to learn how to garden, but you know that’s not true. He’d rather be elbow deep in motor oil than garden soil.”

Crystal looked across the yard at Bear, who was laughing with his brothers as they played basketball. They all had their shirts off now. Bear’s arms were up, blocking Bones from making a shot. Normally she’d be lusting after her shirtless biker boy, but right then all she saw was a caring brother who had spent evenings doing something he didn’t really care about because he wanted to be sure the man who had taught him to fight, who had always had his back—the man he cared about—was okay.

Tinkerbell bounded across the yard toward the house as Bear’s father came outside. Bear and his brothers headed for the patio. His father looked different than he did in the dimly lit bar. Older, and somehow kinder. Or maybe that was from the stories she’d been listening to. It sounded like he’d gone to great lengths to ensure his children grew up with strong morals, and to make Dixie happy.

He walked slowly across the patio, using his cane for balance. Crystal fidgeted with the edge of her dress, unable to calm her nerves as he approached.

He lowered his chin, looking at her with a stern gaze. Bear came to her side and put his arm over her shoulder. Tinkerbell stood by his feet, tail wagging, tongue hanging out.

“Pop. Don’t give her the stare,” Bones said as he pulled on his shirt.

Red patted her husband’s butt, smiling at Crystal. “He’s all bark, honey.”

“Tinkerbell.” Bullet’s deep voice cut through the tension, and the pup trotted happily to his side.