Page 23 of Danny Hall Gets a Lawyer (Goose Run #1)

DANNY

W hen Saturday rolled around I had the weekend off, and it sucked.

Okay, it didn’t suck that I had the weekend off. But it did suck that I had all this free time when Miller was unavailable. He’d texted me last night to let me know he’d be out of town visiting his folks for his mom’s birthday.

He’d also asked after Cash, which had made my insides go all warm and a little bit wobbly.

If I was honest, a tiny part of me had been worried he’d ghost me after the other night.

Cash’s nightmares could be a lot, and they probably looked pretty bad to an outsider.

There were plenty of dudes who would have dipped out after being woken up by that shitshow.

Not Miller, though. He’d stayed.

Knowing I wouldn’t see him all weekend had me missing him already, which was dumb since we weren’t even dating. We were hooking up, that was all. But still, when I remembered how good it felt waking up next to him, I found myself wanting it to happen more often.

I reached for my phone to text him to have a safe trip before thinking better of it. It was after nine, so he was probably already on his way to Richmond, listening to one of his nerdy podcasts —probably the history of the wireless mouse or something. I smiled despite myself as I pictured it.

The house was silent when I got up—everyone else was working—and I made some toast and wandered out to the front porch, surveying the yard.

The grass was almost a foot high, and it was getting to where I couldn’t ignore it any more.

I sighed. I guessed I could spend the weekend cleaning up since I wasn't getting dicked down.

After breakfast I grabbed some trash bags and my earbuds and put on some music while I started picking up the discarded takeout wrappers and cans and other crap that had gathered in the garden beds.

I squinted in confusion as I picked up an empty tuna tin.

Seriously? We didn’t even eat tuna. Eventually, though, I’d picked up all the loose shit and bagged it.

Then I went to the shed to get the mower since there was nobody home to bitch about me waking them up. And yes, I was talking about Wilder.

When I caught sight of the curtain on the dining room window next door twitching, I prayed to whoever was listening that Harlan wouldn’t make an appearance.

Grandma had given the go-ahead for Miller to send him a letter of demand, the first step in taking him to court.

Since he hadn’t appeared ranting on my doorstep and nobody had set my porch on fire, I was guessing he hadn’t gotten it yet.

But he might have just been biding his time, and I wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit today.

I pulled my cap down farther and kept my gaze straight ahead.

If he approached me, I was gonna ignore him and claim I hadn’t heard him because of the earbuds.

Plausible deniability was a thing, right?

I wheeled the mower out and cleaned off the cobwebs.

Once I’d checked it had gas in the tank, I pulled the starter cord, and it gave a reluctant sputter before falling silent.

I tried again, and this time the engine roared to life.

I pushed it up and down the yard through the tall, straggly grass, and okay, I could admit it was kinda satisfying watching the yard transform into something approaching respectable. I’d never tell Harlan that, though.

I’d almost finished when the mower shuddered and stalled. There was only a single strip of long grass left, but it bordered Harlan’s perfect lawn, so of course it stuck out like dog’s balls.

Fuck.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts, mentally crossed my fingers, and yanked the starter cord again.

The motor sputtered to life, rough and choppy like it might cut out again any minute.

Let me tell you, I had never mowed a strip of lawn so fast in my fucking life .

Once I was done I shut the mower off, wiped the sweat off my face with the hem of my tee, and looked the yard over.

It was good enough. My lines weren’t exactly straight, but hey.

Neither was I. The important thing was that it looked like I’d made an effort.

I dumped the grass clippings in a pile around the back and rolled the mower back into the shed. Then I went inside and grabbed a can of soda and sat my ass down in the AC while I caught my breath.

Normally I would have enjoyed having the house to myself like this, but today all it did was make me aware of Miller’s absence. He wasn’t where he was meant to be, and I had the urge to send him a picture of the yard, just for an excuse to text him.

I didn’t, though. He was visiting family, and he didn’t need me horning in on that.

Instead I texted Chase and asked him to bring me home some motor oil after work, and while I waited I watched a YouTube video on oil changes.

I knew the basics, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t fuck it up completely.

When Chase got home, I drained the oil from my truck and replaced it while he watched from the front porch and gave a running commentary.

Harlan came out and glared at us from the boundary line. I tensed and waited for him to launch into an attack about the lawyer’s letter, but he just pointed at Chase and said, “You! You woke me with that bike of yours again!”

Which was crazy since Cash was using the bike today.

Chase had walked to work, just like he always did unless our shifts lined up and I gave him a ride.

But he didn’t argue, just shrugged and disappeared inside.

Harlan scowled at his back and muttered, “I’m watching you boys,” before retreating indoors.

I finished up and cleared away the mess before Harlan decided to come back out and complain about that. Personally, I thought it was pretty fucking rich that he was complaining about anything we might have done when the bare stump of Grandma’s tree was sitting right there.

I started up the truck, and it might have been wishful thinking but it seemed like it was running more smoothly, which had me feeling pretty good.

Once again I thought about texting Miller and pushed down the urge.

The guy had a law degree. He wasn’t going to be impressed by basic engine maintenance.

Might as well send him a picture of me tying my shoes.

Instead I wandered inside and opened the cupboard over the stove.

I pulled out the dented coffee tin that held the money for groceries—we all put some in every week for essentials—and took out the crumpled pile of twenties and added them to my wallet, along with the stack of coupons we’d been saving.

I stuck my head around the door of the living room where Chase was sprawled on the couch. “Hey, I’m going for groceries. Need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

I drove to the Food Lion in South Hill and grabbed a cart, taking my time and filling it with all the stuff we needed.

I added a couple things for Grace, figuring the guys wouldn’t mind.

I mean, technically they counted as necessities.

What four-year- old didn’t need unicorn hair clips and a bright pink scrunchie?

I also grabbed some beer on sale, and even with the coupons the total at the checkout pretty much cleared out the contents of my wallet, but that was nothing new.

When I got home, Wilder’s beat-up old car was there.

I unpacked the groceries, then followed the sound of giggling to the living room where I found everyone squished up on the couch.

They were watching Bluey and the guys weren’t even pretending they weren’t invested, which, fair, because that shit was hilarious.

Grace was sitting on Wilder’s lap, but she scrambled down when she saw me. “Uncle Danny!”

I crouched down and held my arms open. “Hey, sweet pea.”

She came and gave me a hug, and when she let go, I said, “Hey, wanna help me with something?”

She nodded, eyes wide.

I pulled out the hair clips and the scrunchie from the back pocket of my shorts. “These fell in my grocery bag. Can you think of anyone who might like these?”

“Me!” she said, giggling and making grabby hands. I handed them over and she ran back to Wilder. “Daddy, look!”

Wilder’s expression turned soft, and he oohed and aahed over the pink and purple clips with her, shooting me a grateful look.

Then he slid the clips expertly into place and told her how pretty she looked.

Gracie beamed at me, and I grinned back.

She really was cute, and I was glad Wilder got to spend time with her.

After a dinner of hot dogs, a wave of tiredness hit me, so I had a shower and turned in for the night.

But once I was in bed, I found myself thinking about Miller, my thoughts drawn toward him like a compass finding true north.

I buried my face in the spare pillow on my bed and inhaled the scent of his shampoo, which brought back memories of a drunken Miller petting my stomach and calling me pretty, right before he fell asleep next to me.

I found myself replaying how he’d bent me over the couch and railed my ass, and how amazing it had felt being held down and bossed around like that. My libido decided that this was the perfect time to join the party, even though it was a party of one, and my dick stiffened in my sleep pants.

I tried ignoring it, but all I could think about was Miller’s breath hot on my neck as he whispered filth, and the ghost of his hands on my hips when he fucked me.

In the end I wrapped a hand around my dick and jerked myself off to the memory.

But even though I came fast and messy, it wasn’t the same without Miller there.

On Sunday morning I slept late. When I wandered into the dining room, Cash and Chase were sitting at the battered table. Cash was pushing his spoon through a bowl of Lucky Charms. His mouth was turned down at the corners and he was sitting hunched over, so I knew he was stressed about something.