Page 3 of Backed By You (Montgomery Brothers of Montana #3)

My mind trails back to the conversation I had with Maci roughly a week ago when she told me Duke’s brother, Beau, is the one who owns the cabin I’m renting.

This whole time I’ve been leasing from them on his behalf while he’s been away.

But when she said ‘away,’ she didn’t elaborate, just that he’d be back soon and taking over rent and maintenance.

Is this my new landlord?

Big Jerk—or Beau —gestures to me while speaking to his brother. “I told you, no fucking pets.”

Duke nods. “Yeah, I know, but Hulk’s a service dog. You can’t deny a tenant when you’re listing as no pets if the animal is certified.”

I sigh heavily. This is going to be a while. I hustle to the kitchen to turn off the stove, where the chicken is now overcooked.

Hulk barks in warning, and I turn to Beau watching my every move. “Where’s his certification? And shouldn’t he be wearing a vest of some kind?”

“He doesn’t need to wear it when they’re at home, man.” Duke huffs, peeking his head in. “I’m sorry, Callie, but could you grab the papers to show him?”

I nod, thumbing through my wallet and removing Hulk’s certification card, marking him as a PTSD service dog. I hand it to Duke to show his giant dick of a brother who should’ve kindly told me who he was, instead of coming at me like a bull seeing red.

Duke hands it off, and I watch Beau look it over. I take a deep breath, willing myself to answer any asinine questions he may have. They’re always the same: How old is he? Where did he go to doggy service school?

What caused you to need a service dog?

His dark eyes peer at me a moment later. He doesn’t say a word as he simply hands me the card.

I take it, tucking it in the waistband of my sweats. “He wears his service vest in public,” I tell him. “I don’t leave it on him at home. His collar also states he’s a service dog as well, but it can get hidden by his fur.”

Duke grins. “See? It’s all good.”

Beau grunts in response.

I bite my lip, gazing down at my buddy still on guard. “ Steh platz ,” I whisper, letting him know he can stand down. Hulk takes a step back beside me, sitting at my feet with his side pressed against my leg and a watchful eye on Beau and Duke.

Hulk’s been around Duke enough to know he’s not a threat. If anything, he gets excited when he sees Duke’s truck because he usually has Maci with him. And wherever Maci is, so is their baby girl, Olivia. And Hulk loves babies.

Beau’s brow furrows even deeper. “Why would a service dog know German commands?”

I cross my arms over my chest in challenge. Because that is something I will not be sharing with anyone. Let alone this guy.

Duke slaps a sturdy hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I think what my brother is trying to say is, he’s sorry for the confusion.”

I highly doubt that’s what he’s trying to say.

I tip my head to really look at this mountain of a man. I force a smile, extending my hand to him. “Callie Ryan,” I say. “Your tenant.”

Beau stares down his nose at me, his dark gaze scanning my face. He takes my hand in his rough, calloused hold. His large palm swallows mine as he gives it a shake with a firm, yet gentle grip.

“Beau Montgomery,” he says before releasing my hand and turning to Duke. “Did you give her permission for all the flowers and the raised box in the back?”

Seriously? Just when I thought we were getting somewhere…

Duke opens his mouth to respond, but I chime in, “It’s a vegetable garden. I’m going to plant some tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, a few bell pepper plants.”

Beau’s heated expression only burns hotter. “That doesn’t answer my question. Did you or did you not get permission to dig up the yard?”

I scrunch my nose. “Dig up the yard? I didn’t dig up anything. It’s a raised garden box, I put soil on top, you know, inside of it.”

“So, no. You didn’t get permission,” he grumbles.

“I don’t need anyone’s permission to put a raised garden in my backyard,” I say, having to add, “Especially yours, buddy .”

Beau’s jaw tightens.

“I told her she could.” Duke flat-out lies on my behalf. “The garden, the flowers, the tree. All of it I said was fine by you.”

Beau snaps his head to his brother. “Tree? What tree?”

I wave a hand over my shoulder. “The baby elm tree beside the raised garden. I planted it. The space seemed a little…empty.”

Beau shakes his head with an angry growl. He turns on his heel and stomps off my porch like some prissy diva who didn’t get their way. “Keep your fuckin’ music down, clean up after that dog, and move your Jeep into a real damn spot,” he hollers.

“Whatever you say…Sergeant Dickhead,” I mutter, earning a low chuckle from Duke. Beau hears me and whips that scowl over his shoulder in my direction.

I sigh. This isn’t the kind of bickering first impression I wanted. And certainly not from a renter to a landlord. I like living here, it’s treated me well so far, and I want to stay. Not get evicted.

“Sorry about him,” Duke says. “He flew in earlier today, had a long day catching up with everyone. He’s probably just tired.”

I snort. “So, I guess now would be a bad time to tell him the oven stopped working.”

Duke chuckles. “Yeah, might want to save that one.” He pulls out his phone. “I can let him know, but if you want to take down his number, I’ll give it to you now.”

I nod, putting Beau’s number in my phone. I fight the urge to label it as ‘Sergeant Dickhead’ since that seems to suit him oh-so-well. I say a quick thank you and goodbye to Duke, and I give Hulk another treat before I return to prepping his dinner.

I also turn my music back on…a little bit quieter.

After dinner, I clean up, take a shower, and tug on a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized hoodie. I pour myself a glass of wine and take Hulk out back. The sun sets over the picturesque mountain view, and I move toward the stone fire pit off the back porch.

I drag over a lawn chair while Hulk wanders to the tree line where he’s allowed to take care of his business—it makes it easier for me to find his dumps and toss them into the surrounding forest. I pick a few pieces from the dwindling wood pile and take them to the fire pit.

That’s when I see him.

Beau— Dickhead —Montgomery.

Standing on the back porch of his cabin, he eyes me like a disgruntled boss who doesn’t approve of the work I’m doing.

He’s shirtless now, leaving it all on display—rather proudly, I might add.

A pair of basketball shorts hanging dangerously low on his hips.

His muscles are thick, chiseled like a sculpture with dark hair patched over his chest and leading… down . Strong thighs, bulky calves.

My gaze lands on a black sleeve of some kind covering the majority of his left leg with a brace around his knee. Huh. Is that why he’s home? Did he get hurt?

I silently wonder what could hurt a man like Beau.

Trying to brush off the wound-up feeling brewing at his presence, I position the few pieces of wood in a teepee. I take the piece of junk mail and the lighter from my hoodie pocket and work on starting the fire.

Hulk trots over, sitting stoically beside me, watching my back like always. I’m sure he’s keeping an eye on our nosey neighbor. Or landlord, I suppose. I’d like to think he’s not a threat to me…

You don’t know it for a fact .

The crackle of the fire has me taking my seat. My chair is angled so I can look out over the setting sun that’s filling the evening sky with stunning waves of natural hues.

I scratch behind Hulk’s ears—his favorite spot—and enjoy the low-burning fire as the slow cover of night falls upon us.

Bravely, I steal a glance toward Beau who’s still standing on his porch.

It’s a toss-up whether he originally came out here to spy on me, or if he, too, came out to watch the sunset.

Because the second the sun is gone, he retreats into his cabin.

For a split second, I feel a twinge of guilt for not inviting him to sit with me. Then I remember his rude, unsolicited commentary regarding my flowers, garden, tree—my dog.

Let’s hope he doesn’t give me a hard time when I pick up the porch swing I had custom-made tomorrow.

He shouldn’t mind, right?