Pants that were slung real low on his hips this morning. He’s got a real tight body; clearly the yoga is paying off.
As soon as that thought crosses my mind, I freeze.He’s got a tight body?What the fuck?Why the fuck am I thinking about Ash’s pants? Or his happy trail? Or his body at all?What the fuck is wrong with me lately?
It’s another four hours before our cattle make it into the ring, but once they’re in, everything moves quickly. By the time we’re heading out to the truck, my stomach is grumbling, and suddenly, I’m thankful for the packed lunch. Sure, Hollis and I could stop and get something on the way back to the ranch, but I’d rather not make unnecessary stops. We’re already bound to hit traffic with all the construction happening on the highway from here to Wolf Creek.
Climbing into the passenger seat, I reach into the back and grab the lunch box, unzipping it as Hollis starts the engine.
“You brought a lunch?” he asks quizzically.
“Ash and Tucker packed it for me, I guess.”
“He’s hotandhe packs you a lunch?” Hollis teases. Gritting my teeth, I choose to ignore him.
Flipping open the top, I find a white piece of paper folded over once sitting on top of the food. I pluck it out, opening it, and my chest squeezes when I see Tucker’s messy, wobbly handwriting scrawled on the sheet.
I love you, Daddy! Hope you have a great day at work.
Love,
Tucker and Ash and Bubba
I smile as I show my brother the note.
“Aww, that’s sweet,” Hollis replies. “Maybe I need to have a kid so I can have sweet notes in my lunch.”
Chuckling and rolling my eyes, I say, “Not exactly a reason to have a kid, but alright.”
Obviously, Ash helped him with it because everything is spelled correctly, but I can’t help imagining my son sitting at the dining room table with a pencil in his tiny grip, writing this for me, knowing I’m going to see it while I’m at work. Was it Tucker’s idea? Or was it Ash’s? And why does the latter make my heart race a little faster?
What the fuck is going on with me today?
And as if he knows I’m thinking about him, my phone vibrates with a notification from him.
Ash: MAJOR NEWS!
Ash: Your son successfully skipped a rock down at the creek today.
Me: Really? He’s been trying to master that for months. That’s amazing.
Ash: As soon as we got home, he asked me to send you the video I took.
I click on the thumbnail that comes through, smiling down at my phone as I watch my boy skip the rock, then squeal and jump up and down. The video shakes, and I imagine Ash jumping upand down too, matching Tucker’s excitement. A grin tugs on my lips before another text comes through.
Ash: He’s mighty proud of himself, and so am I.
“Why’re you smilin’ down at your phone like an idiot?” Hollis asks, pulling my attention. Shifting the screen, I press play on the video again so he can watch his nephew too. “Hell yeah! Knew he’d get that soon.”
I replay it for a third time, both of us watching again before I get back to my food.
“Give me somethin’,” my brother demands, holding out his hand. “I’m fuckin’ starvin’.”
“Pack your own lunch,” I grumble teasingly.
“All the more reason to fuck your nanny.”
Turning my head, my eyes narrow on my brother as Hollis watches the road ahead of us with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Now, you’re definitely not gettin’ any of my lunch, dipshit.”
