Chapter 4

“She didn’t want to come,” Casey added needlessly.

There’d been a mutual animosity between the two from day one, but as long as she cooked, cleaned, stayed out of his way, and took care of the boys, Kenneth Dwyer hadn’t really cared one way or another if she liked him.

Wade watched some of the mourners head to their cars, but many others stood in groups, talking quietly.

“I’m so sorry I was late.”

Wade’s head spun at the sound of the familiar voice and his belly fluttered as Lance came into his view. Fuck.He’d thought after so many years apart, he wouldn’t still have the same reaction to Lance. A buzz spread across his skin as he let his gaze fall to the man’s lips. God, he was still so beautiful. Even here, in this miserable moment, his dirty blond hair windblown and wild, Wade itched to run his fingers through it. How many times had he imagined how it would feel? He sighed and tried to tear away his gaze. Lance was straight. It was never going to happen. But God, he wanted to feel those lips pressed against his. The heat. The need. He wanted to take complete possession of Lance’s mouth. Taste him. Nip at his lower lip.

“Right, Wade?”

Wade blinked at Casey. “Right?” His cheeks heated as he felt Lance’s eyes on him. “What?”

Casey looked at him funny. “I was telling Lance that we want him to come out to the house and stay for a while after everyone else leaves.”

Shit. “Sure. I mean, of course. Yes.”

“I’d planned on coming by anyway,” Lance said, his aquamarine eyes still on Wade. “We need to go over the will.”

Casey and Wade just stared at him. Neither of them had even thought about that today. Wade swept the area for Landon and found him talking with a small group of young people. He didn’t want to have this conversation in front of their youngest brother.

“Today?” He knew he sounded terse.

Lance nodded. “I’m afraid so. Ash has to head out of town tomorrow and he wanted to get it taken care of. I offered to help because there are…well, some things that need to be discussed.” He looked down as he shuffled his feet in the grass before he turned to Casey. “I was there when your father had his will drawn up, but I’m not sure if you knew that.”

Casey shook his head. “I didn’t, no. I thought he used your old boss.”

“Yes, but…he asked me to be there since he knew me. He had some…issues to discuss.”

Wade narrowed his eyes, suspicion welling up. “What kind of issues?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me? Why did you keep this from me?” Casey asked. “We’ve been friends forever.”

Lance answered Casey first. “I’m sorry. But he was a client. There are ethical obligations,” he explained, looking a little sheepish. “We’ll go over everything tonight.” He turned back to Wade. “I promise. But, I also have a guest.” He gestured behind him to the woman in the green and black dress. The beautiful woman he’d arrived with.

Wade observed her as she stood silently, her arms wrapped around her torso while her long, straight black hair blew in the wind. Her stance suggested she was uncomfortable and he wondered why Lance would bring a date to a funeral.

“Of course, Lance. You’re both welcome,” Casey assured him.

“Are you going to introduce her?” Wade asked in a clipped tone.

Lance glanced at him. “Later. At the house. I’ll see you soon,” he promised before he turned to the woman, putting his hand on her back and guiding her toward his silver Durango.

Wade and Casey spent a little more time thanking guests for coming and reminding them there would be food back at the house, but they were all eager to get moving before the rain started. Wind speeds were rising and the temperature was dropping fast.

As they walked slowly through the small cemetery, they passed his mother’s headstone and Wade wondered what she thought of her husband’s passing. Would she welcome him with open arms? Or had he gone somewhere else?

“Boys, mind if I have a word with you?”

Wade gritted his teeth. Milton Randle was the last person he wanted to deal with right then, but he resigned himself to it. After all, the man had been his father’s only real friend.

“Mr. Randle. Thank you for coming,” Wade said, offering his hand.

He shook Wade’s hand for a second, before quickly letting it drop.

Wade refused to flinch, even as he felt his skin crawl. Milton Randle hated him and had never tried to hide it. Wade tried not to show his disgust for the elderly man as he waited for him to speak. His white hair stuck up in tufts all over as if he hadn’t bothered with a brush that morning and his heavy beard and mustache, also white, were badly in need of a trim. Wade swore he could smell the faint scent of alcohol on the man, although that wasn’t really a surprise. He glanced past him, at the woman standing behind him, head down. Elizabeth Milton was a frail thing and clearly afraid of her husband. She’d probably been pretty at one time, but years of being married to Milton had not been kind to her. Her shoulders hunched and her dress hung loose on her thin frame. He wanted to address her, but she hadn’t taken her eyes off the ground.