Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)(149)

Chase looked up. “Not banging her is an indicator of…?”

“Come on, brother, say the word. Love. You’re in love with her.”

“No lie.”

“Does she know?”

“I told her. But that was before I freaked out and said some stupid shit. Then she said stupid shit back and I left to rejoin the PBR.”

“How long ago was this?”

“What day’s today?”

“Sunday.”

“It all went to hell on Tuesday. Damn. Seems longer than that.”

“Time to cool off is rarely a bad thing.”

When Ben retreated, Chase looked around. That’s when he noticed two items on the far edge of the bar. A short-handled whip and a collar with a chain attached. What the f*ck did Ben use those for? Did he even want to know?
Hell yes he wanted to know.
So when Ben returned, Chase said, “What’s up with the whip and collar?”

“What?”

Chase pointed. “Over there. Did you forget to put away your bondage toys when you finished with them?”

Ben went very still.
“Come on, Ben. I was joking.”

He relaxed. “I know. Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t leave out the leather restraint straps and the caning set. That really would’ve made you look at me funny.”

Chase stared at him because it didn’t seem Ben was joking. And how could he rattle off that type of S&M stuff anyway?
The dogs barked and Quinn stepped inside. “Hey. You guys ready?”

“Ready as we’ll be, considering we’re goin’ in blind.”

The drive to their parents’ house was filled with nervous chatter. They pulled up behind a Lexus with South Dakota plates.
“I thought this was supposed to be a family only meeting?” Chase said.
“It is. Let’s go.”

Quinn led the way into the ranch house they’d grown up in. Their parents sat side by side at the dining room table, across from a guy who seemed familiar, but also ill at ease.
“Hello, boys,” their mother said. “Have a seat. Would you like coffee?” When she began to get up, Dad curled his hand over hers. “It’s okay, Vi. They know where the coffeepot is.”

Quinn offered the man his hand first. “Quinn McKay.”

The man stood. “Gavin Daniels.” He shook hands as Ben and Chase introduced themselves.
Dad cleared his throat. “I—we—appreciate you comin’. Didn’t mean to be so cryptic, but this ain’t something that can be said over the phone.”

“Just be straight with us. Is he your doctor or something?” Ben asked. “He came here to help you break the bad news about whatever is wrong with one of you?”

“No. There’s nothin’ wrong with either of us. We’re both in better health than we’ve been in a long while. This is about him.”

Chase noticed his parents still held hands.
“This is gonna come as a shock, so I’ll just say it straight out. Gavin is our son. Your brother. Not half brother, but full-blooded brother.”

No one moved. No one seemed to breathe in the crushing silence.
“Forget the goddamn coffee. Break out the whiskey,” Ben said.
Almost as if their father had expected it, he pulled out a bottle of Jameson and six shot glasses. And holy f*ck, he poured Mom a shot of Irish too. Then he kissed her cheek. “Vi, darlin’, go ahead. It’s more your story to tell than mine.”

“You mean my secret to tell.” His mother, his sweet, practical, sometimes judgmental mother, tossed back the whiskey without batting an eyelash. “I won’t drag out the details. You boys never knew my father, God rest his soul, and I’m grateful. For being a man of God, Elmore Bennett wasn’t a nice man. He ruled his home with the Bible in one hand and a hickory switch in the other.