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the Hamilton family image after their father died, avoid gossip, and make sure the town trusted them to continue the legacy. The last thing the Hamilton name needed was for the town to see the brothers arguing.
    “Sit already before they start talking.”
    Trip released a breath, and Nick realized for the first time that his brother was nervous. A part of him thought good, he should be , but the other part felt bad. This wasn’t how things should be between them. Trip handled Stables and Nick handled Industries and that was just how things went. Nick would never dream of trying to sell Stables without consulting Trip, and regardless of what his brother said, he knew a part of him felt guilty for stepping on Nick’s toes.
    “Can I get y’all something?” The waitress came back over, her gaze hitting Nick again before going to Trip and Emery, and he thought Becca might fly out of her seat. The thought made him smile despite his brother’s presence.
    “Sweet tea for me,” Emery said.
    Trip motioned to Nick’s glass. “I’ll have what he’s having.”
    The waitress smiled at Nick. “I’d like what he’s having, too.”
    “What does that even mean?” Becca said, and Nick grinned over at her as the waitress scooted off.
    “Calm down, bulldog.”
    “She’s ridiculous. I mean, own it, girl. If you want to give him your number, do it. Don’t dance around.”
    Emery tapped her fingers against the table, her eyes twinkling as she peered at Becca. “I think there’s only one woman Nick’s calling these days.” Then there was a loud thump from under the table, followed by, “Ouch. I didn’t say anything.”
    “You’re saying plenty.” Trip shook his head at his wife, like she’d revealed some scandalous secret. And then Becca took a long sip of her piña colada, refusing to meet Nick’s eye.
    What the hell was going on? So what if Nick hung out with Becca all the time? It wasn’t like this was something new. He’d been hanging out with her since they were kids, and losing his dad had done nothing more than confirm to him that she was the only person beyond his brothers who meant anything to him. And maybe the only person in the world who truly understood him. He’d hang out with her as much as he liked, outside opinions be damned.
    “Anyway, what were y’all talking about?” Emery asked, attempting to change the subject.
    “Chemtrails.”
    “What trails?” Trip asked. “Wait, is this that conspiracy theory nonsense again?”
    Case in point. Becca would never call it nonsense because she believed all the crazy as much as he did.
    “It’s not nonsense,” Becca said. “This guy films it all. You can’t argue with evidence.”
    Nick’s eyes fell on his friend, and he thought the rest of them could all go to hell. This was his person, the one who got him, and he got her, and that kind of friendship didn’t have to be explained.
    “So what’s happening at the stables?” Nick asked, sure that mention of the farm would get Trip going on a tangent, and it did.
    He started in on a few new stallions Alex had bought, new owners he was working with, and before long they’d eaten their crab cakes, finished their third round of drinks, and Becca was yawning.
    “We should probably head on. Becca has an early day tomorrow.” Her eyebrows rose in question because she had the day off, but Nick had taken all the niceties he could handle. He wanted to relax, and he could no longer do that with Trip around.
    “Right, early day.”
    “All right, see you two later.” Emery rose up and hugged Becca, then Nick, and Trip offered his hand for Nick to shake. But Nick knew his brother, and he knew that shake would serve as an unspoken agreement that he was okay with selling, okay with what Trip had done. So instead of taking his hand, he patted him on the back.
    “We’ll talk Monday.”
    “Nick . . .”
    “Monday. I’ve had enough for today.”
    Trip nodded slowly, they said their good-byes, and finally