Page 45 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies (Men of Medford #4)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Beckett

I’ve always been good with quiet.

Not the awkward kind, or the kind that drags on too long. The kind that settles in deep after a snowfall, where the world feels blank and still and honest.

Just the crunch of your boots, maybe a buck moving through the trees if you’re lucky. That kind of quiet doesn’t ask anything from you. It lets you be.

But the silence after we got back from Medford?

That wasn’t peace. That was pressure.

Heavy. Tense. The kind of quiet that hangs in the air right before something breaks.

Riley was curled up in front of the fire, knees tucked to her chest, wrapped in one of my flannels like she needed it to hold her together.

Her phone sat face down on the coffee table, untouched.

Couldn’t blame her.

Asher was pacing by the window. Garrett was outside, shoveling the same spot in the walkway as if it might stop the world from catching fire.

And I stood there. Watching her.

The girl who had turned everything upside down without even trying. The one I hadn’t been able to shake from my head since the second she showed up on our porch with that look in her eyes like she was barely holding it together.

She looked small now. Fragile in a way that made something twist in my chest.

And I hated it.

I didn’t think. Just moved. Dropped down beside her on the hearth. Maybe being close would help.

She didn’t speak. Didn’t cry, either. She leaned against me like I was one solid thing in a world that had cracked wide open.

“I should’ve told her sooner,” she said after a while, voice quiet. “Lucy. I should’ve said something before it all blew up.”

I didn’t tell her it wasn’t her fault. Because she wouldn’t have believed me, and it wasn’t what she needed.

I know how guilt works. How it sinks in deep, even when you’re trying your damn best.

Instead, I reached for her hand.

Wasn’t something I usually did. Wasn’t something I was good at.

But she laced her fingers through mine; it wasn’t even a question. And I thought : So this is what it feels like to let someone in.

Then my phone buzzed.

I ignored it.

Buzzed again. Then a third time.

Garrett came in through the back door, snow on his shoulders and that same serious look he always wore.

“Phones are blowing up,” he said. “Somebody leaked our numbers.”

Asher muttered under his breath and pulled out his phone, jaw going tight. “It’s not the press.”

I looked up at that.

He met my eyes. “It’s them .”

My stomach dropped. I could hear it in his voice. “Mom and Dad?”

Garrett sighed. “Yep.”

Riley sat up a little straighter. Her whole body went still. “Do they know?”

Asher nodded once. “Looks like they read the headline. Lucy’s pissed. Mom says she’s been crying since this morning.”

That hit hard.

“I’ll call,” I said. “Let me take it.”

“You sure?” Garrett asked, watching me.

I nodded. Because it wasn’t about should. It was about had to .

I stepped outside, let the cold bite through the leftover heat from the fireplace. Pulled my phone out, thumb hovering for a second.

Then I called Dad.

He picked up fast. “Beckett.”

Tone sharp. Clipped. Always is when he’s pissed but trying not to yell.

“Hey,” I said, clearing my throat.

Long pause. Then, “You want to tell me why your sister found out her best friend is sleeping with her brothers from a goddamn tabloid?”

I shut my eyes. “It wasn’t intentional.”

Another pause.

“I’m not here to yell,” he said, voice losing a little of the edge. “Your mom’s been trying to talk Lucy down all day. I need to understand what happened.”

So I told him. Just the truth. No excuses. No smoothing it over.

He listened, quiet the whole time.

When I was done, he let out a sigh. “I don’t care what the Internet thinks,” he said. “You boys are grown. You love who you love. But Lucy’s blindsided, and that’s on you.”

“I know.”

“You should’ve told her. Early. Before it turned into a firestorm.”

“You’re right,” I said. Because he was.

“And now you’ve got to fix it.”

“I will.”

There was a beat of silence. Then: “How’s Riley?”

“Not great.”

“She’s family now, whether you all want to admit it or not,” he said. “So you protect her. That’s what this family does. Even when it’s messy.”

My throat went tight. “Yeah. We will.”

Then Mom took the phone.

“Beckett?” Her voice was warm. Gentle. That tone she saves for when things are bad and she’s trying to hold us all together.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Oh, honey,” she breathed. “I love you. You know that?”

“I do.”

“And I love Riley, too. I remember Lucy talking about her all the time in college. That girl is not the villain. Neither are you boys.”

I didn’t say anything. Didn’t trust my voice not to break.

“She just needs to talk to Lucy,” Mom added. “Face to face, if she can.”

“I don’t know if that’s smart right now.”

“She doesn’t need to apologize for falling in love. She needs to tell the truth. Girl to girl. Friend to friend. That’s what Lucy needs.”

I got that.

When I came back inside, Riley looked up at me.

“How bad?” she asked.

I knelt in front of her, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear. She didn’t flinch, she watched me with eyes that already knew the answer.

“They’re not mad,” I said. “Dad’s somewhere between mad and worried. Mostly worried. About Lucy.”

Her eyes shimmered, but she blinked it back. Got to her feet slowly, like her body weighed more than it should.

“I need a minute, okay?”

I nodded.

She walked down the hall and shut the bedroom door. A second later, I heard the soft click of the lock.

That sound hit harder than it should’ve. Felt like a punch to the chest.

I stood there, staring at that door, jaw clenched so tight it started to ache. That anchor’s voice was still playing in the back of my skull, dragging Riley’s name across the air as if it was a headline, not a person.

She was in there, alone, trying to hold herself together, and we were all out here pretending like we had a handle on anything.

Garrett was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, stone-faced. Hadn’t said a word since the call from Mom.

Asher was the first to break. Of course he was.

“Well,” he muttered, pacing behind the couch, “that went about as well as a gas leak in a match factory.”

Garrett’s head snapped toward him. “You think this is funny?”

“No,” Asher shot back. “I think it’s a disaster. But if I don’t laugh, I’m gonna lose it, so unless you want me to start breaking windows?—”

“Try shutting up for once,” Garrett growled. “That might actually help.”

Asher stopped pacing, lifted his brows. “Oh, great. The noble older brother act. Been a while since we got that one.”

“Someone’s gotta give a shit,” Garrett snapped. “Someone’s gotta clean this mess up.”

My hands were fists at my sides, but I didn’t move.

“She’s not just some girl we fooled around with,” I said, voice low. “She’s Riley.”

Garrett stepped toward me. “You think I don’t know that? Don’t stand there and act like I don’t care.”

“You haven’t always acted like it,” Asher said, arms crossed now, voice colder. “That’s half the problem.”

Garrett turned on him, eyes sharp. “Say that again.”

“Gladly,” Asher said. “You wanted her, but when she actually needed someone, you froze.”

“You think this is about what I wanted ?” Garrett barked. “This is about Lucy. Our family . You think this doesn’t wreck me, too? You think I don’t feel like shit?”

“You should,” Asher snapped. “Asshole.”

Garrett took a step closer. “You don’t get to play saint, Ash. You were the first one in her bed.”

Asher’s mouth curled. “Yeah. And you waited until she was bleeding out inside to finally grow a spine. Real noble.”

“Fuck you.”

Garrett shoved him. Not hard. Just enough.

Asher lunged, fists up. Hit Garrett clean in the jaw.

The crack echoed.

Garrett stumbled, then charged. They crashed into the couch, hitting the floor like a wrecking ball, fists flying, curses echoing off the walls.

“Goddamn it, stop !”

I grabbed Garrett’s shoulder, but his elbow flew back and caught me in the ribs. Not on purpose, but it still knocked the breath out of me.

“Fucking enough !”

I shoved between them, got in Garrett’s way as Asher scrambled up, blood at the corner of his mouth.

Garrett’s cheek was already swelling. His breathing sounded like a furnace.

But they stood there, glaring at each other like the only thing they wanted more than air was another swing.

“You wanna keep swinging?” I barked. “Take it outside. You think Riley needs to hear this? Think she doesn’t already feel like a grenade went off in her chest?”

Asher looked at me then. Really looked. And something behind his eyes cracked.

He ran a hand through his hair. Turned. Grabbed his coat from the hook.

“Asher,” I warned.

“I can’t do this right now,” he muttered. “Not with him. Not with either of you.”

He yanked the door open, and the cold came roaring in.

Then he was gone. Just like that.

The silence that followed was worse than anything before it.

Garrett stood frozen, fists still clenched, chest still heaving. He didn’t look at me. Didn’t need to.

We both knew. The damage was already done.

What the fuck just happened?