“What in the fuck do you numbskulls want?”

Looking uncertain, Curt, Justin, and Luke stared at each other as Greer made no attempt to lower his shotgun. When they saw Tate take his position next to him, Greer thought they would piss themselves.

Scaredy cats should have known better than to show up at his door without an invitation.

Curt nodded toward Luke. “We have a proposition for you.”

“The only proposition I want to hear is for you to go fuck yourselves.”

“Come on, Greer, listen to what we have to say before you get all blown up and mad.”

Curt’s amenable attitude had gone through a drastic transformation from the one he had given Holly when the fuckers didn’t realize he had been within hearing distance.

“You always come to someone’s home and insult a female member of their family?”

It didn’t take the dumbasses long to realize that he had heard the exchange between them.

“We were just joking. Bring her out here and we’ll apologize,” Curt offered.

“She don’t want to listen to any apology from you. And neither do we. You’ve got one minute to state your business before I save Knox the effort of arresting you for trespassing.”

“The word around town is you have a new plant you’ve been growing called Kentucky Gold. I want to buy what plants you have. It’ll save you from having to worry about who you’re selling to. I heard the State Police have been trying to catch you. We can help each other out. I’m willing to pay the premium if it’s as good as they say.”

“How’d you hear about Kentucky Gold?”

“I have my sources.” Curt smirked, becoming cocky, thinking Greer would be tempted by the money. Everyone in Treepoint and three counties over knew that he would sell his soul for a dollar.

“You know what he’s talking about, Tate?”

“Nope. But Pa always said that anyone who listens to gossip is an old woman or a bitch. You hiding a pussy behind those jeans?”

Curt’s face turned red with fury, the air around them becoming filled with tension, as Justin and Luke waited for their friend to react with the violence he had administered to those who dared defy him.

When he had been a coach at the high school, he had hidden his true character. Since getting fired for stealing money from the program, though, he didn’t worry about his true colors coming out anymore.

“So, you’re going to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about?” Curt ground out through clenched teeth.

“Damn, Curt, I’ve never heard of Kentucky Gold. Maybe you’ve been listening to the same person who’s been gossiping about you knocking up a high school girl then leaving her when she lost your baby. Or maybe the one who said that you changed your name from Demaris to your mama’s last name, Dawkins, because you were trying the rub the shit off the bottom of your shoe when Jo came back to town and owned your ass at Rosie’s for what you did to her in high school.”

“You don’t want to make an enemy of me, Greer. It’s not me you’ll be pissing off.”

“You threatening me with The Last Riders?” Greer took out his cell phone, holding his shotgun steady with the other hand. “I can call Shade and settle this with him right now if he sent you here.”

Fear entered Curt’s eyes and those of the other two men.

“Shade didn’t send us here. Like I was saying, we thought we would do you a favor.”

“I don’t need any favors from anyone I don’t consider a friend. And I don’t have any of those. Your minute is up. Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back.”

Greer motioned with his gun to get the men moving.

“You and Tate are making a mistake,” Curt threatened as he got back into the truck.

“We’re the ones you shouldn’t make an enemy. The last family who started a feud with us didn’t have anyone left to carry on their name.”

Tires spun in the gravel as Tate and Greer watched Curt angrily flick him off as they drove out of the yard.

“Don’t do it,” Tate warned as Greer put the shotgun on his shoulder.

He pulled his finger back from the trigger. “I was only going to take out his taillights,” Greer spat out, lowering his gun. “Who you been running your mouth to about that Gold?”

Tate didn’t take his eyes off the direction the truck had gone. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

“Me? Who would I tell?”

“Diane. Or anyone at Rosie’s when you’re drinking.”

“I haven’t opened my mouth. You’re the one who gave Sutton’s boss those plants. I told you not to. You’re the one who has trouble keeping your trap shut.”

“Liam didn’t stay long enough to talk to anyone. He took the plants, put them in his rental car, and left town twenty minutes later.” Tate glared at him as they walked up the steps to the front porch.

“Well, someone has been blabbing. If it wasn’t me or you, who do you think it was?”

“I don’t know who. When Dustin gets home, maybe he’ll have an idea. He’s in town more than we are. Perhaps he’s heard something.”

“He spends as much time at Rosie’s as I do. It could be he’s the one who’s been bragging how good it is.”

“Might be, but I don’t think so.” Tate shook his head doubtfully. “You really thinking the State Police are watching us, or was Curt saying that to get us to sell to him?”

“Either that or he is an informant trying to get us to admit what we’re selling on tape.”

“I can see Curt doing that. He’s always trying to get out of some trouble. He wouldn’t have a problem sending us to the pen to keep his own ass out.”

Greer reached for his cell phone.

“Who you calling?” Tate asked.

“Shade. That fucker knows every fart everyone lets out in town.”

“Don’t. This is family business. I’ll text Cash. He and Rachel can come over tonight.”

“Since when do we consider Cash family?”

“Since he married our sister.” Impatiently, Tate reached for his cell phone.

“Rachel hasn’t divorced him yet?”

“You know she hasn’t. You just saw her a few days ago.”

“A man can dream.”

“You’re the numbskull.” Tate put his phone back in his pocket.

“Don’t act like you like him any better than I do.”

“He’s grown on me since Ema’s been born.”

“I have a wart growing on my big toe; that doesn’t mean I’m attached to it,” he jeered.

“When he comes over, don’t start a fight. It gets Rachel upset.”

Greer gave him a grin. “Cash can use a night on the couch.”

Tate returned his grin. “I need to get back home. I don’t want to leave Sutton alone with Curt snooping around.”

“I told you that motion detector camera at the front of the driveway was a good idea. That ringing is a pain in the ass, but it lets us know when someone is coming up the driveway.”

Tate had argued about the expense. Now he had to acknowledge its usefulness.

“You were right. But every time a deer or jackrabbit sets it off, it gets aggravating.”

“Would you rather it be the Colemans or the Hayes?”

“No. I’m surprised Dustin didn’t call when he heard it ring.”

“He had a meeting with Willa, so he probably turned it off.” Greer shrugged. “He knows we can take care of ourselves, and Logan’s at school.”

“He knows Holly’s home today.”

“That reminds me. There’s something I want to talk about tonight during the family meeting.”

“If it involves throwing Holly out, save your breath.”

When Greer opened his mouth, Tate shook his head. “We can talk tonight. What time do you want me to tell Cash and Rachel to come over?”

“Tell them to come to dinner. Holly’s cooking a roast big enough to feed the town, and she put enough onions in it that Cash won’t be the only one sleeping on the couch, unless you down a bottle of mouthwash when you get home.”

Tate winced. “She put any garlic in it?”

“Nah, she’s out. She forgot it at the store. I don’t mind the garlic; it’s the onions that bother me.”

“Diane must have gone nose blind to let you spend the night with her. Between your garlic concoction and Holly feeding you onions every night, I’m surprised you can talk your way into her house. I smell you coming when you’re ten feet from my front door.”

“I haven’t been eating at the house lately. That’s what I want to talk about tonight.”

Tate frowned. “Sounds like it’s serious.”

“It is.”

“Then Sutton and I will be there at six.”

“Sounds good.” Greer started to open the front door. “I thought you were in a hurry to get home?”

“I am, but I’m going to say hi to Holly before I leave.”

Greer shrugged, opening the door to let them inside. He didn’t miss the curtain dropping as they walked in, nor did he miss the guilty look Holly cast toward his useless dog.

“You been giving that mangy pup treats?”

“Hunter deserves it. He growled at Curt.” She threw him a censuring look as if the dog could understand he was being insulted.

“I told you, Hunter doesn’t deserve a treat unless he runs down what I’m hunting, or when he bites a trespasser. He catch that deer roast you cooking?”

“No, but—”

“I didn’t see Curt nursing a bite mark, either, so he didn’t deserve a treat,” Greer grumbled, going to the fridge for a beer.

“Quit bugging Holly about the treats. The dog is still a pup. It’ll learn.”

“Not with her making the dog too fat to run. Woman, why do you have to make everyone so fat? Is that how you plan to catch a husband? Make men so fat they can’t run away from you?” Greer chortled at the look on Holly’s face. The best parts of his day were when he could disconcert her until she couldn’t come up with a response fast enough to his teasing. She was getting quicker, but she had a ways to go before she could come up with a good enough comeback to take him down.

“Cut it out, Greer. One day, Holly’s going to go for that paintball gun Rachel gave her.”

“She doesn’t have it anymore,” he answered matter-of-factly.

“Yes, I do. It’s in my bedroom closet.” Her eyes narrowed on him suspiciously.

“Not anymore. I took it.” Greer lifted the lid of the crockpot, taking a sniff. Then he wished he hadn’t. It smelled good. Dammit.

“When? I would have noticed—”

“I took it last week when you threatened to shoot me after I chained Hunter up outside when he pissed on my boots.”

“I would have noticed—”

“Not if you were sleeping when I took it.”

“You sneaked into my bedroom when I was sleeping!” Holly screeched, jerking the lid away from him to put it back on the crockpot.

“Yeah. It hurts like hell when you shoot me.”

“Give it back, now!” she demanded. “Rachel gave it to me.”

“It ain’t gonna happen. I put it where you’ll never find it,” he bragged.

“Where? Your underwear drawer?”

When his mouth tightened in consternation, Tate’s laughter broke the heightened tension.

“Still hide what you don’t want found in your underwear drawer? I thought you stopped doing that when Ma passed away.”

“It works. Ma and Rachel never look inside my drawers.”

“Ma was afraid to after she found that stack of magazines and box of condoms.”

“A man’s entitled to his privacy,” Greer stated.

“Just like a woman is entitled hers.” Tate gave Greer a censuring look.

“Then that woman doesn’t need to be shooting me with a paintball gun. Besides, I didn’t see anything, anyway. She was sound asleep.”

“That doesn’t make it all right!” both Tate and Holly yelled at him.

“I thought you wanted to get home to that wife of yours? I need to get back to work.” Greer finished his beer, tossing the empty bottle into the trash.

“It doesn’t go in that kitchen trash. It goes in the recycling bin.”

Holly was still ranting when Greer escaped outside with Tate on his heels.

Greer jumped down off the porch without taking the steps. “I’ll see you at dinner time.”

“Sutton and I’ll be over after dinner. I’m too afraid to eat any food Holly means for you.”

“Don’t worry; I make sure I only eat the food she puts on Logan’s plate.” He threw Tate a shit-eating grin. “There isn’t a woman alive who can pull one over on me,” he bragged.