The Bull Rider's Twins

Jonas straightened his shoulders. “It’s not a conversation I want to have, but no doubt she’s heard worse.”

“That’s true,” Sam said. “You go for it, Jonas. We support you.”

Fiona waved them into the kitchen, where they leaned against the counters. The silver bar was gone, which Rafe had expected. His brothers gave him the same “You see?” look, to which he simply shrugged. He was more worried about condoms than silver bars at the moment.

“Rafe wants to tell you something,” Jonas said. “Right, Rafe?”

He gulped, straightened. “I guess so.” He flashed Jonas an irate glare with his eyes. “Judah has departed.”

Fiona nodded. “He said he longed to test his mettle on the back of an angry bull. I told him to have at it. Judah’s been restless lately.”

Rafe swallowed again. “Aunt Fiona,” he said carefully, not sure how to begin, and then Sam said, “Oh, come on. It’s not that hard.”

Rafe gave his brother a heated look, wishing he could swing his boot against Sam’s backside.

“Spit it out,” Fiona said. “You’re acting like you have something horrible to tell me. I’ve got butterflies jumping in my stomach just looking at you, like the time you came to tell me you’d burned down the schoolhouse. You hadn’t, but you thought you had—”

Rafe cleared his throat. “Creed gave us all boxes of prank condoms at his bachelor party as a send-off.”

Fiona looked at him. “Prank condoms?”

He nodded. “Different colors, different, uh, styles. In the box, there were ‘trick’ condoms. You were supposed to guess which of the twelve was the trick.”

Fiona wrinkled her nose. “What ape thought of that?”

“Creed,” Sam and Jonas said.

“I mean, the product.” Fiona sighed. “Only an imbecile would buy … Oh, never mind. None of you were dumb enough not to get the joke, so ha-ha.”

“We hear rumors,” Jonas said, trying to help his brother out, for which Rafe was relieved, “that Darla might be expecting a baby.”

Fiona frowned. “What does that have to do with us?”

“Well, is she?” Sam asked.

“It seems there may be a reason for the marital haste.” Fiona opened the refrigerator and took out a strawberry icebox pie. She cut them each a generous slice, and the brothers eagerly gathered around with grateful thanks. “I have a Books’n’Bingo Society meeting tonight, and I intend to ask my dear friend about this rumor.”

“Creed thinks,” Sam said, around a mouthful of pie, “that Darla and Judah may have had a …”

She glanced at him. “Romantic interlude?”

All three brothers nodded.

“Did you ask Judah?” she inquired.

They shook their heads.

She gazed at all of them. “Do we suspect joke condoms might come into play?”

“We fear they might have,” Sam said. “They could have. I threw my Trojan horse away,” he said hastily. “But then, I’m a lawyer. I read fine print. When a box says ‘Gag gift only, not for use in preventing pregnancy,’ I hurl it like a ticking bomb into the nearest trash can.”

“Too bad,” Fiona shot back. “I like babies, and four of you are dragging your feet.”

“Worse than dragging our feet. Judah’s gone away with a broken heart,” Rafe said.

“And the joke may be on him?” Fiona eyed each of them. “You believe Darla’s marrying this other man as a cover for a relationship she may have had with Judah?”

“What we’re theorizing,” Jonas said, “is that he may have thought the condoms were the gag gift, not that they were useless.” Jonas sighed. “I, too, threw Creed’s gift in the trash. I didn’t want hot-pink condom sex with anyone I know.”

They all looked at him with raised brows.

“I threw mine away, too,” Rafe admitted. “I’m afraid of children. At least I think I am. Or maybe I’m afraid of getting married,” he said cheerfully. “When I watched Creed go down like a tranquilized bull, I said, ‘Rafe, you are not your twin.”’

“It’s possible Judah tossed them as well,” Fiona said. “And for all we know, Darla isn’t pregnant, although I wouldn’t bank on it at this point.” She wrapped up the strawberry pie and returned it to the fridge. “Rafe, run upstairs and look in Judah’s nightstand, since that’s where he stayed that night because of the wedding guest housing situation.”

“Not me,” Rafe said, “I never snoop.”

Fiona elevated a brow. “We can’t let him go all over several states rodeoing and maybe scattering his seed, so to speak. If he took the condoms with him, and if he honestly needs glasses so much that he can’t read a box—”

“Who reads the label on a box of condoms besides Sam?” Rafe said. “You just whip the foil packet out and—”

“Go,” Fiona said. “Your brother’s future may be at stake.”

“I’m not doing it,” Rafe said, and he meant it.

Fiona plucked three straws from a broom. “Draw,” she told the brothers. “Short straw plays detective.”

A moment later, Rafe held the short straw. “It’s not fair,” he grumbled. “I’m the existential one in the family. I believe in reading, and thinking deep thoughts, not nosing into places I don’t belong.” But he went up the stairs. In his heart Rafe knew that Judah and Darla belonged together. But they couldn’t just fall into each other’s arms and make it easy on everybody. “Leaving me with the difficult tasks,” he muttered, reluctantly opening his brother’s nightstand.

And there was the black box of joke condoms with the hot-pink smiley faces, peace signs and lip prints.

“Hurry up!” Fiona bellowed from the stairs. “You’re not panning for gold! The suspense is killing us.”

Rafe grunted. He opened the box.

There were nine left.

“Uh-oh,” he muttered, and went downstairs with his report.

“Three?” Fiona said, when Rafe revealed his findings. “Three have been … are missing?” She looked distressed. “I hope Judah hasn’t had more than one situation where such an item might be called for.”

They all looked at her, their faces questioning.

“One woman,” Fiona clarified, and they all said, “Oh, yeah, yeah, right.”

The brothers glanced at each other, worried.

Rafe shifted. “What do we do now?”