I stand in the truck bed, pushing the broom and the last remnants of hay, dirt, and shit I’ve had to haul this week.

“Don’t worry,” Noah chides. “We did it right. She’s on a mission, though.”

“Do you have more?” Tiernan looks up at me expectantly with my handkerchief around her neck.

More?

She breathes hard, and I pull out my phone, checking the time. They got done with that a lot sooner than when it’s just Noah and Kaleb.

I stick my phone back in my pocket. “Take the clothes off the line,” I tell her. “And I need fresh, soapy water. Hot.” And then I look at her. “And then breakfast.”

She nods and spins around, hurrying back to the house.

Noah looks after her. “I remember when I was new to chores,” he says wistfully. “It was kind of fun. For a few minutes.”

I shake my head. I don’t think Tiernan finds this fun.

“If we train her up, it’ll be like I’m not even gone,” he tells me.

I shoot him a look, but I don’t stop as I shove another pile of debris out of the back of the truck. “Don’t piss me off today,” I warn him.

He’s not leaving, and Tiernan isn’t here to take his workload.

I can see him looking at me out of the corner of my eye, wanting this conversation, but I won’t do it. We’ve had this talk, and I’m done. He’s not going away. He’s twenty-fucking-years old. He doesn’t know what he wants. Or what he needs.

Making a mistake takes seconds. Living with them takes a lifetime, and I don’t want my sons to suffer like that.

Before he can try to fight me again, I hop down from the truck and head for the house to get my own soapy water.

Tiernan

“Is it okay if take a truck to town and do some food shopping?” I sit at the breakfast table, toying with the burnt bacon in my hand and feeling it crumble onto the plate like a potato chip. “I can pick up anything you might need, too, while I’m out.”

Jake looks up at me, chewing his food, and I zone in right between his eyes—focusing—to get my mind off the fact that his stupid shirt is off again. I mean, seriously. Do these men ever get completely dressed? Women survive with the heat and sweat all the time without discarding our clothing.

“What do you need to eat other than bacon?” he questions.

But I keep my expression even, not indulging his joke.

He finally laughs. “Of course, you can take the truck.”

Reaching into his back pocket, he opens his wallet and pulls out some cash, tossing it into the middle of the table while Noah downs the rest of his milk.

“I have money,” I insist. I can contribute to my own expenses.

But he just argues back. “So do I,” he says. “We don’t need de Haas money in this house.”

de Haas money.

He slips his wallet back into his pocket, and I glance down at the hundred bucks he dropped on the table—far more than I actually need.

But I think he knows that. He just wants me to see that he can accommodate my lofty standards as much as his brother could.

Unfortunately, I can’t stop myself. “You won’t take de Haas money, but you’ll take a de Haas.”

And I raise my eyes again, locking gazes with him. If he resents my parents’ money in this house, then surely he resents me in this house, too.

“You’re ours,” he states plainly. “We pay for what you need.”

I stare at him another moment, and then Noah reaches into the middle of the table, snatching up the cash.

“I’ll go with her. I need some shit.”

We both get up, clearing our plates and loading the dishwasher.

“Toss the plastic bags into the barrel when you unpack groceries,” Jake tells us, still eating at the table. “I’m burning trash this afternoon.”

I stop and glare at the back of his head. “Burning trash?” I repeat, searching for an argument he’ll listen to. “Please…don’t. It’s bad for you, breathing it in, and it’s really bad for the planet.” I circle the table to face him. “It’s illegal for a reason.”

Burning leaves is one thing. But plastic and…

His fork clangs on the plate, and he picks his cup of coffee up. “Garbage trucks don’t get up here, sweetheart.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I retort. “You can’t burn plastic or inked paper or—”

“California girls are environmentally conscious, aren’t they?” Noah laughs from the sink. “No plastic straws. You have to bring your own bags to the supermarket. I hear they only flush the toilet every other time they go, too.”

I dig in my eyebrows so deep it hurts. “Yeah, sometimes we’ll even shower together to conserve water. It’s awesome.”

I hear Jake snort, and I drop my eyes again, arching an eyebrow at myself. Not sure where my newfound sarcasm came from, but I harden my jaw, not allowing myself to enjoy it.

I turn to leave, but I stop and glare at Jake again. “And that de Haas money is hard-earned,” I say. “My parents made contributions to the world. People value what they did whether you liked them or not. Whether I liked them or not.”

I blink at the words coming out of my mouth, surprising myself. But while I had my problems with my parents, I realize for the first time that I’m a little protective of their legacy.

“The world will remember them,” I point out.

“And so will I.” Jake leans back in his chair, regarding me with an amused look. “Especially with you around.”

I hesitate, his words unnerving me for some reason. The sense of permanence in his tone. Like I’m here to stay.

“I might not stick around,” I suddenly blurt out.

But then I immediately regret it. He took me in when he didn’t have to. And I came here willingly. I should be more grateful.

But…he did threaten to keep me here against my will yesterday, too.

“You’re kind of a prick sometimes,” I tell him.

Noah jerks his head in our direction, his eyes wide as his gaze darts from me to his father.

But Jake makes no move, just sitting there and looking at me with the same amusement on his face.

“I’m a teddy bear, Tiernan.” He stands up, his fingers threaded through the handle of his coffee cup. “You still haven’t met Kaleb yet.”

I hear Noah laugh behind him, both of them in on some joke I clearly don’t understand. I twist around, heading up to my room to clean up.

“Put on a proper shirt before you go out!” Jake yells after me.

I snarl to myself, stomping a little harder on the stairs than I mean to.

I make your food. It’s really not smart to provoke me.

I shower quickly, getting the sticky heat off me, as well as the dirt and smell from the barn. I’m pretty sure I’ll have to shower again later, just so I can wash my hair. I don’t have time right now, though.

Running a brush through my hair, I slip on the same baseball cap Noah loaned me this morning and rush out of the room with my little crossbody purse and wearing a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

Jake is actually pretty stocked on food, especially fresh stuff, but in the rush to come here, I’d forgotten to arrange for a few…other things I’d need.