Page 35 of At First Smile

“Sure did.” Trina raises her Bloody Mary on screen. “And it’s fucking gold, Boy Bronte.”

My brother arches a blond eyebrow. “Boy Bronte?”

“Your nickname.”

“Guess it’s better than ‘Irish Puck Boy.’ Finn raises his glass of whiskey and tips his head to the screen. “Thanks, my Buffalo Girl.”

Trina blushes, just a bit, before she smooths down her already sleek red bob and shifts in her seat. “They called you Irish Puck Boy?”

“ Not me .”

Her blue eyes almost twinkle. “Rowan?! I must hear all about this.”

“Excuse me—” JoJo claps loudly. “—we are in the middle of a dramatic reading.”

Wes sits up. “I normally hate it when the audience interrupts, especially when the actors are in the zone, and JoJo, you’re killing it”—she curtsies. He continues, “But I need to know more about Rowan’s nickname.”

“Me too.” Pen nudges me.

“Christ,” I groan, scrubbing a hand down my face.

“Sorry, bro.” Finn’s mouth slants into a lopsided grin.

Hands on her shapely hips, JoJo pouts. “Embarrassing Rowan stories after . We agreed.”

“I have so many.” Finn’s blue eyes dance with mirth.

“And I want to hear them all!” Trina rubs her hands together like a villain in a spy thriller.

“Me too.” Pen coos, intertwining our fingers. Her sparkling gaze lands on me and her lips tug up into a wide smirk.

Grinning, I lift our joined fingers to my lips. “I’ll be the butt of the world’s jokes as long as you keep looking at me like that, luv.”

Trailing her hand up my arm she cups my cheek and leans in, pressing that heart-stopping smile against mine.

“Fuuuck, I need to write that line down,” Finn says, cluing me in that I’d said that loud enough that everyone else heard.

“Clearly, it’s a good line. I think Pen’s tongue has relocated to Rowan’s throat,” Trina quips.

“Sorry.” Face pink, Pen pulls back.

But I don’t let her go too far, tucking her back against me. “Never apologize for that.” I trace the outline of her smile with my fingertip. “I told you.”

She snuggles into my side.

JoJo places her hands on her heart. “Adorbs!”

“You two are pretty cute, but can we get back to the show?” Wes lays back. “Come on, JoJo, let’s channel our inner Onalee and Dylan. Picture a team of wild wolves ready to attack.” He whistles. “GB?”

GB looks up from his rawhide bone, tilts his head, and then proceeds to go back to chewing.

“This is why I never work with animals.”

Chuckling, Wes and JoJo proceed with their reading.

“This is my favorite part,” Pen whispers, as JoJo, AKA Onalee, throws herself atop Wes, AKA Dylan, after running out of bullets.

“Me too,” I murmur and kiss her forehead.

The story of the Bostonian heiress that inherits a Montana ranch in 1908 and, despite everyone telling her she can’t, runs it and falls for the ranch hand and rodeo cowboy always stuck with me.

There’s no third act break up in this book.

Just a couple who falls in love and meets life’s obstacles together, including a pack of wolves that chase them down after Dylan falls from his horse and breaks his leg during a cattle roundup.

Onalee is left by herself to fend the wolves off.

“You can’t have him,” JoJo shouts, the book that she reads from in one hand and the wooden spoon turned empty rifle in the other. She points the wooden spoon at GB, who gnaws on his rawhide, ignoring her entirely. “If you want him, you have to take us both because I won’t live without him.”

“Did I really write that?” Finn mutters.

“Hush you. It’s amazing,” Trina laughingly scolds.

“What the hell are you watching?” A gruff voice calls out, causing all of us to turn, even Finn.

My spine stiffens. On screen, Gillian stands behind Finn, his face twisted into a scowl.

Despite the neat beard covering my brother’s face, we look nearly identical.

Unlike Finn with his blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, the spitting image of our mam, Gillian and I take after our dad.

Our hair is a dark brown, though his is sprinkled with silver at his temples.

We both have our dad’s green eyes and olive complexion.

“A dramatic reading, which you rudely interrupted,” JoJo tuts, wagging the wooden spoon towards the laptop.

Gillian’s eyebrows knit together. “Finn, why can’t you be normal and just look at porn. Is this one of those Only Fans things?”

“Excuse me, this is completely normal.” A furrow mars Trina’s forehead. “We’re honoring your brother’s work.”

“Only Fans? Hear that, Wes, we’re good enough for people to pay for our dramatic readings?” JoJo’s eyebrows waggle.

“Seriously, what is happening?”

“It’s brunch with Rowan, his girl, and her friends,” Finn offers, gesturing towards the camera.

Rowan’s girl. Christ, I like how that sounds. I hold Pen just a little tighter. The way the laptop faces the pretend stage, we’re not fully visible. Still my protective nature kicks in, wanting to keep her close.

Gillian’s brow creases. “Rowan’s girl?”

Smirking Pen leans towards the laptop and waves. “Hi. You must be Gillian. I’m Pen. Rowan’s…” Her head tilts. “…Well, we actually haven’t discussed labels.”

Leaning towards the laptop, I open and then close my mouth. The word “girlfriend” fights to come out. As Pen says we haven’t discussed labels. I won’t pretend the dip in my stomach at her not saying, “I’m Rowan’s girl” doesn’t exist.

“She’s the woman he’s seeing, and you must be the chef brother.” JoJo’s gaze locks on the screen. “You really are attractive. You might be the best looking of the three of you. How are your grilled cheese skills?”

“My what?” Gillian narrows his eyes.

Pen snorts.

“God… JoJo,” Trina groans, massaging her temples.

“What?” She gestures towards the laptop and then to me. “Do you blame me? This is one attractive gene pool. Hell, you already dropped three messages into our group thread about?—”

“JoJo!” Eyes wide, Trina nearly shrieks.

“I’m intrigued. How do I get in this group thread?” Wes chuckles.

“Ditto.” A wry smile covers Finn’s face.

“You should be intrigued, Boy Bronte.” JoJo winks.

“JoJo!” Trina hisses, her face is almost as red as her hair.

“Isn’t Trina engaged?” I mumble to Pen, who nods.

“ That ring on her finger doesn’t make her unaware of an attractive man.” JoJo winks.

“Which attractive man are we speaking of?” Wes laughs.

“Again, ditto,” Finn adds.

“JoJo, why are we friends?” Trina covers her face.

JoJo’s face twists into an apologetic expression. “Whoops, sorry, girl.”

Shaking with laughter, Pen buries herself into my side. “She has no filter.”

“Clearly,” Gillian mutters, his features set in a harsh expression.

“It’s all part of the JoJo package you have to look forward to, Mr. Sexy Chef Boyardee,” JoJo coos, batting her long lashes.

“I’ll pass. You’re not my type.”

“Gillian!” Forehead puckered, Finn spins in his chair to face Gillian.

JoJo’s flirty expression falters, her red lips drag down into a frown. It’s brief, though. In almost the same moment her lips curl back up. “Your loss.” She shrugs. While there’s a smile on her face, her eyes don’t sparkle with the playfulness she’d had.

“You’re a prick,” I snipe, my icy stare locked on my oldest brother.

“Agreed.” Trina glares.

“I’ve been told.” Averting his gaze, Gillian straightens.

“JoJo, did you want to keep going?” Wes reaches out and squeezes JoJo’s arm.

Eyes blinking, she peers around the room and then clears her throat. “Actually, I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

“JoJo.” Pen stands up.

“Just need to use the ladies.” With a tight smile, she places the book and spoon on the table before exiting the room.

Turning back to the screen, I glower at my oldest brother who stands, hands in pockets, staring forward. I open my mouth.

But Finn cuts me off, “You hurt her feelings, Gill. That wasn’t kind what you said.”

“I—” Tugging at the hem of his T-shirt, his stare shifts around Finn’s study.

“You should apologize.” Finn’s request is firm, but kind.

“No should about it,” I jump in with a snarl. “You will fucking apologize to JoJo.”

Narrowed gaze locked on the screen, he scoffs, “You’re telling me what I will do? The man who never apologizes for his actions.”

“Always the asshole.”

Pen squeezes my hand, her mouth set in a firm line.

“Enough you two.” With a loud exhale, Finn groans, “Did you want something, Gill?”

His stare pulls away from the laptop and to Finn. “Just letting you know I’m back. I didn’t realize you were doing a meet and greet with Rowan’s whatever she is.” He waves at the screen.

Pen stiffens beside me.

My jaw clenches. “Pen. Her name is Pen.”

Face wrinkled, he shakes his head. “She’s the girl from the article, isn’t she?”

“What of it?”

“When Mam asked you about her, you said there’s nothing going on.

You made it sound like she was just some random woman you met while traveling.

This looks like more. I get not inviting me to this little party but lying to Mam about seeing someone and then not inviting her…

seems cruel even for you. Don’t you think you’ve put our mother through enough? ”

An old ache slices into me.

Arms crossed over his broad chest, he quirks an eyebrow. “Unless this is nothing and she really is just another random woman we hear about you being with on social media. For her sake, I hope not. She seems like a nice girl.”

“Gill.” Finn shakes his head.

“Fuck you!” I growl and go to stand, but Pen’s tight grip holds me in place. My stare falls on her.

Her lips wobble. “Rowan, please… Don’t.” It’s barely a whisper.

“Rowan, I got this,” Trina seethes. “How dare you! She’s not a random anything, you second-rate Bobby Flay wannabe.

Despite what JoJo—who’s everyone’s type and you’d be goddamn lucky if she lowered herself for an amoeba of a man like you—said you are not the cutest brother, you are the dickiest one. ”

“Again, not news,” he says, his tone steely.