Lip Service

“Sk-ye.” Izzy drew the word out into two syllables. “Don’t make me sing ‘The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow’ until you beg for mercy, because I will.”

Skye laughed. “Okay. I’ll be good. Now run along and make trouble. We’ll both feel better for it. I’ll be fine. I just need to get some sleep. Everything will look better in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“I swear.”

Izzy hesitated, then left. Skye returned to the bathroom and turned off the water. She pinned up her hair, then undressed and climbed into the tub. But no matter that she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, she kept hearing the conversation between T.J. and Jed. And kept getting mad. Mostly at herself. For being the kind of person who did what she was told.

Because she was the good sister. The one who followed the rules. Who did the expected.

“I hate people like that,” she said aloud into the empty room. So why had she become one of them?

IZZY WAITED until T.J. stepped out onto the front porch of the house. She’d grown up lurking in shadows, spying on her older sisters, who seemed to have all the fun. She was used to being stealthy.

When she was sure he hadn’t noticed her, she crept up behind him and said, “Hi,” in a loud voice. It was hard not to laugh when he jumped.

“Jesus,” he yelled as he turned. “You scared me.”

“Good. I understand we’re soon to be brother and sister. That’s very cool. I’ve always wanted an older brother. You can teach me all kinds of things.”

T.J. stood a good ten inches taller than her, but Izzy wasn’t the least bit intimidated. She wasn’t there to fight fair and would use every advantage to bring the jerk to his knees. Scaring him had just been a happy bonus.

“Brother and sister?”

“You’re marrying Skye, aren’t you? At least, that’s what she said.”

T.J. swore, this time more aggressively. “She heard. I didn’t mean for her to.”

He was standing at the top of the stairs. Izzy thought about giving him a big push, just for the thrill of watching him tumble. “You hesitated when Jed offered you Skye. I can’t believe you had the nerve to think about it. She’s worth ten of you.”

“Wait a minute. My hesitation wasn’t about Skye. She’s a beautiful woman.”

“So were you concerned about the size of your equipment?” Izzy interrupted with a smirk.

“I was making a point with your father.” He leaned against the post by the stairs. “And for future reference, I’ve never had complaints about the size of my equipment.”

“Most women are too polite to complain in person. We only tell each other when we’re disappointed.”

He raised a blond eyebrow. “You have sass.”

“I have a lot of things you’ll never see.”

“Want to bet?”

Izzy liked that he gave as good as he got, but not that he was consorting with Jed, talking about marrying Skye and flirting with her.

“Jed won’t take kindly to you playing his daughters against each other. Trust me, he’s not a man you want to piss off.”

“Maybe he doesn’t care which of his daughters I marry.”

“You couldn’t catch me and even if you could, you couldn’t handle me.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

She ignored the statement. “Let me be clear. Hurt my sister again, T.J., and looking eye to eye with a snake will seem like a step up for you.”

He stared at her feet, then worked his way up. “You think you could take me?”

“Even on a bad day. I fight dirty.”

“So do I, little girl.”

She filed that piece of information away for future reference. “I’ll be reporting our little conversation to my sister. The Titan girls are very loyal to each other. Keep that in mind.”

“You’re full of advice. What makes you think I need it?”

“You have amateur written all over you.”

MITCH CASSIDY PULLED to a stop at the entrance to the ranch. Although he’d grown up here, he hadn’t been back in nearly nine years. He’d expected a few changes—life had a way of moving forward whether he wanted it to or not—but not this.

He stared at the words over the open metal gates. The gates, connected to nothing, were just there for show. “Cassidy Ranch. Home of certified organic beef and free-range poultry.”

“What the hell?”

He wasn’t sure what offended him the most. The phrase “certified organic” or the word poultry.

“Chickens? We have goddamn chickens?”

He hated chickens. They were loud and messy. And this was Texas. His family ran beef. They had for nearly a hundred years. It was the source of the Cassidy fortune. If some ranch wife wanted to raise a few chickens for eggs or deep frying, the stupid birds were kept out of sight and never talked about. They weren’t bragged about in a sign.

His left foot ached. He reached down to rub it only to remember a half second later that he didn’t have a left foot anymore. The below-the-knee amputation was the reason he wasn’t a SEAL these days. It was the reason he’d finally come home.

He swore again, put the truck in Drive and headed for the main house. In a perfect world, he would quietly reappear at the ranch, easing into a normal life, without anyone noticing. However, though life was a lot of things, it wasn’t perfect.

He drove down the nearly mile long private road. White fences lined both sides. There were horses on the right and prize bulls on the left. Prosperity on the hoof.

He rounded a curve, past a grove of trees and saw the house where he’d grown up. It was a sprawling two-story structure with a wraparound porch. Flowers grew waist high, swaying gently in the breeze. It could have been a picture from a postcard. Mitch almost wished it was.

Fidela stood on the porch, straining forward, as if wanting to know the second he arrived. She took off at a run toward the truck, forcing him to stop short of the house.

She might be pushing fifty, but she had the speed of a six-year-old and got to him before he’d awkwardly clambered out of the truck. He landed on gravel and nearly lost his balance as his leg muscles struggled to keep him upright on his new and painful prosthesis.

“You’re back!” she said, tears filling her brown eyes. “Finally. I’ve been praying and praying since you left. God is tired of me asking for your safety. You could have helped, you know. Not done such dangerous work. But no. You like to test my faith.”

She cupped his face, then ran her hands across his shoulders and down his arms, as if wanting to make sure he was real.

“You’re taller since you left, but so thin. Mitch, such sadness in your eyes. But you’re home now, yes? Home with me and Arturo. The ranch will heal you and I will cook all your favorites until you are too fat to ride a horse.”