Young Love Dies Hard: The Young Brothers, Book 1 by Nikki Lane (old books to read txt) 📗

I raised my eyebrows. “Roofus? Is that the best you can do?”

“You think of one.”

“How about…Billy?”

“Okay.” He gave Billy a scratch under the chin. “I like it. It’s very fitting.”

“Can I try?”

“To feed him?”

I nodded.

“Sure.” He scooped up Billy and put him in my lap. I grabbed the bottle from his hand, and Billy took to it right away.

My hand rubbed over Billy’s round, furry belly. He nuzzled closer to me, completely trusting. Billy emptied the bottle, his heavy eyes giving way to sleep.

Jacob reached for my right hand. “You still have this?” His index and pointer finger fiddled with the mood ring he’d won for me at the Greek festival just before he moved to Florida.

I gingerly pulled back my hand. “I just like the way it looks.”

“It’s black,” he said.

“It’s been black for years.” I scooped Billy up from my lap, rested him in the hay, and then stood up.

“Where are you going?” he called after me.

I turned to face him. “Somebody’s got to get things done around here.”

The blazing noon heat was relentless. Jacob was busy helping Jeff shovel cow shit when I found a secluded spot to smoke a cigarette. I leaned against the wall of the barn and met the flaming match to the end of the cigarette.

“What are you doing?” Jacob popped up out of nowhere, startling me.

An orange ember burned a spot on my leg.

“What the hell, Jacob.” I wiped the ash away.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I dunno…tenth grade?”

“Weren’t you the girl who once said she would die before she married a guy who smoked or had tattoos?”

“People change. Besides, I remember you telling me you’d never get a tattoo even if someone paid you a million dollars.”

He shrugged. “People change.” He made a swipe for the cigarette. “Give me that.”

I pulled my hand back. “No.”

“Maeve, give me that cigarette.”

“No way. It’s the first one I’ve had all morning.”

“Don’t make me use force.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I remember all the spots, Maeve. All of them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re adults now.” I tried to hide my smirk. I couldn’t look at his face.

We both stilled for a few seconds before he clutched my arm. The other hand found one of my most ticklish spots between my neck and collarbone.

I fell into a fit of giggles, the cigarette still in between my fingers. I tried to talk, but I couldn’t. I was laughing so hard I was out of breath.

He let up for a few seconds. But I could tell by the look on his face—this was far from over.

“Stop,” I pleaded. I held up my hands. “Jacob, I’m serious.”

He reached down, grabbed hold of my legs, and threw me over his shoulders. He used one hand to tickle me behind the knees. That was the one. The spot he tortured me with when we were kids.

I kicked my legs and withered in his arms, letting the cigarette drop. “It’s gone.” I took a few deep breaths. “You got your way.” He placed me back on my feet. I smacked him across the arm. “Jerk.”

He smiled wide, his cheeks rosy. “Good to know some things haven’t changed. You are a bit heavier than I remember.”

“Yeah, and you smell like cow shit.”

“Never bothered you before.”

“Yeah, well, I think I was too used to the smell back then.”

“Come on, I don’t smell that bad.”

I crinkled my nose. “According to who?”

He smelled under one of his arms. “All I get is the new deodorant I bought. Smells pretty good to me.”

I bit my lower lip. “You must be hard of smelling.”

“Come on, take a whiff. Tell me what you think.” He held up his arm, and suddenly, we were kids again.

“No way,” I said, taking a few steps back.

He followed my path. “Come on, Maeve. Just one. I don’t want to be the smelly kid that doesn’t know he smells.”

I chuckled, even though I was trying to hide my amusement. “You’re gross and sweaty. Get away.”

His mischievous smile returned. My pace quickened, but Jacob managed to lock his arm around my head. I’d fallen into such a fit of laughter my face was starting to hurt.

“Terrible,” I cried, scrunching my face.

He continued to walk with my head still clutched under his arm. Jack bounced up and down, barking at us.

“Get him, Jack,” I said.

But Jack was no help. He just spun in circles, seeming just as amused as Jacob. This close to his body, he didn’t smell all that bad. A little sweaty, but not in a bad way. Kind of sexy, actually.

“What’s my smell factor? One being pleasant and ten being offensive.”

“Seven,” I said.

I reached my arm around his waist to maintain my balance. My finger caught the grooves of his stomach under his shirt.

“You’ve made your point,” I said. “How much longer of this torture?”

His grip loosened, allowing me to slip out. “I take my personal hygiene very seriously.”

“Obviously,” I replied.

His hand reached out to my hair.

“Grass,” he said, letting the piece fall to the ground.

We stared at each other, the silence getting heavier with each passing second.

The phone in my pocket rang, and I flinched from the abrupt break of silence. It was Aunt Meg. I took the call, grateful for the distraction. Jacob waited until I hung up.

“She needs a ride home to change and bring the car back to the hospital.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No, it’s fine. Make sure Billy gets his bottle. We have goat-parent responsibilities now.”

I headed inside to shower and change. Thirty minutes later, and I was headed to the hospital. Thankfully, the drive wasn’t too far. When I pulled into the hospital parking lot, my phone rang again. It was Sal.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Sal. What’s up?”

“I need you to fill in for Crystal.”

Great, I needed the money. “Sure. When?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight? Shit…how was that going to happen? “I can’t tonight. It’s going to take me at least two hours to drive home and—”

“Two hours?” he bellowed. “Where the fuck are you?”

“I had to come home. My uncle had a heart attack, and I’m helping around the