Boys South of the Mason Dixon Page 8

I reached for it. My hand trembled a little and I hoped he didn’t notice. I was excited, part of me wishing he’d left it on my doorstep so that I could open it privately. I knew that even if it were a rock, I would love it. It didn’t matter to me what was inside that box. It was from Asher and that made it precious.

“You gonna hold it like it might bite you or go ahead and open it?” he teased.

“The wrapping is so pretty I hate to mess it up,” I replied, no longer able to contain the big smile tugging at my lips.

“Thanks. I did it myself.”

I wasn’t sure I believed that. “Sure you did.”

His eyebrows immediately shot up. “Hell yeah I did, ask my momma. She supplied the wrapping paper and the bow. But I wrapped it. Honestly, I did.”

Now I didn’t want to ruin the wrapping even more. I’d keep it like this forever.

“Open it, Dix,” he said, smiling.

Fine. But I wasn’t going to tear the paper. I unwrapped it as gently as I could. Sliding out the small box, I realized I was holding my breath. I quickly inhaled before I passed out in front of him and embarrassed myself even more.

I lifted the top from the box and my heart swelled even more from seeing what it held inside. It wasn’t because of the price of the gift or its beauty. It was because he’d remembered something about me that not many people knew.

“How did you remember this?” I held The Little Mermaid sterling silver charm that would now complete my Princess bracelet. They discontinued it when I was nine years old, before I could complete my collection. I’d cried that day when Momma told me she couldn’t find one anywhere. Asher had been borrowing a saw from Daddy and he’d seen me in tears. When I told him why I was crying, he had hugged me, assured me that one day this wouldn’t be a big deal to me. I cried that it would always be a big deal because The Little Mermaid had been my favorite. I’d wanted that charm from the moment I got my bracelet, but it was always sold out everywhere we looked.

I’d forgotten all about that, but he clearly hadn’t. That bracelet was still in my jewelry box, missing its last charm. Until now.

Tears stung my eyes and I smiled as I held it in my hand like the priceless treasure it was to me.

“When a beautiful girl cries, a boy never forgets why,” Asher replied softly.

Asher Sutton

DALLAS HAD LET his black hair grow long and it was now pulled back in a ponytail. When I came home for Christmas, he’d been tucking it behind his ears, but it hadn’t been pulled back yet. He had our mother’s green eyes and my grandmother’s Native American skin tone, also like mom. She always said Dallas was the prettiest of us all and we gave him hell about it. He was also fucking spoiled, being Momma’s favorite, her baby.

I took a big drink from the milk Momma fixed me and noticed my baby brother’s grin. Dallas was clearly looking forward to Steel getting back because he thought we would fight. And Dallas loved a good fight and placed bets on underground fights all the time, thinking I didn’t know it.

“You want another pie?” Momma asked, glancing over her shoulder as she dropped another pastry into the frying pan.

“No, thanks, I’m good,” I replied.

“I want one, Momma. Fighting makes me hungry,” Dallas drawled, Brent shoving him and causing Dallas to lean off, before he cackled with laughter.

“Ain’t no fighting going on around here. And you two stop rough-housing in my kitchen.” Momma spoke, frowning at them both.

“Can I still have another pie?” Dallas asked, seriously pouting. He was seventeen years old and pouting over a fucking fried pie.

“Of course. Go sit and be good,” she replied, Dallas winking at her, and causing her to roll her eyes before going back to frying the pies.

“You’re a dipshit, you know that, don’t you?” I said, as he pulled out a chair, turned it around and straddled it.

“Missed you, too,” he replied, trying his charm on me, like he did on the rest of the world. He could be a smartass one minute and a charmer the next.

“Your pretty face don’t work on me,” I said, taking another drink of my milk.

“He’s here,” Bray announced as he walked into the kitchen. “Just saw him drive up. You gonna play nice?” He was looking directly at me.

I wasn’t mad at Steel. I was angry because this shit was going to hurt him, too. He’d be changed forever, the same as I had been, and all I ever wanted was to keep them safe. But I’d failed. My leaving hadn’t helped anything. It had simply made it worse.

“I’m good,” I replied when I realized all four sets of eyes were on me.

The screen door opened again and this time it was Steel who walked in. He looked straight at me and stopped. He looked nervous.

“About time you finally got home,” I said casually, rising from my chair.

He took a step back, then froze, taking a deep breath. I’d eased him with my words.

“I haven’t seen you since Christmas,” I said, closing the space between us and pulling him into a hug. “Missed you, bro.”

The tension in his shoulders slowly relaxed as Steel hugged me back. “Glad you’re home,” he finally replied, and it sounded like he meant it.

“Awww, shi—crap,” Dallas whined, catching himself before he cursed in front of Momma. “I was hoping for some action. You two are gonna be all mushy and sh—stuff.”

“Stop being a douche,” Bray growled at Dallas.

Momma spun and pointed her spoon at Bray. “You say douche in my kitchen again and I’ll send you to the store to buy some. You hear me?”

Momma didn’t seem to care we were all men now. She still treated us like we were little boys. Bray nodded and mumbled an apology. Once, he’d called Brent a pussy in front of her. Momma took him to the grocery store and made him buy tampons. When they got to the checkout, she made Bray hand the tampons directly to the cashier and then take the sack once the lady bagged them. For a thirteen-year-old boy, that had been traumatic. Bray never called anyone a pussy in front of Momma again. In fact, he hadn’t used that word again until he finally got some actual pussy a few years after that.

“Since we’re all here together and everyone is good, why don’t we leave Momma to her television shows and homemade wine, and take this party down to Jack’s. It’s Karly Walsh’s birthday and everyone’s headed there tonight.” Brent spoke, his eyes meeting mine. He still didn’t trust us to sit around with Momma present in case I decided to say something to Steel.

“Sounds good! I’d forgotten about Karly’s party,” Dallas said, jumping up, his fried pie all forgotten.

“Watch him,” Momma replied. “He ain’t old enough to be going to one of them parties or Jack’s.” Momma pointedly looked at me. The twins and myself had been going to Jack’s well before we were seventeen. She always expected me to keep them safe and out of harm’s way. And even with me being gone, she still relied on me to look after them whenever I came back home.

“I’ll keep him out of jail,” I promised as we all headed for the door.

“Take this fried pie,” momma called out to Dallas. He turned around and took the fried strawberry pie she’d wrapped in a napkin for him. Dallas kissed her cheek and she grinned, looking up at her six-foot-three baby and patting his face like an infant.

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