As Dylan walked out the door and down to his car he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made him pot roast, and wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

Chapter 3

Piper stalked into Apple Sours, her cousin Joe’s bar. The day hadn’t improved since arriving home, and she needed a drink.

Going for a ride in her current mood probably hadn’t been the best move, but she’d hoped the fresh air would clear her head. Instead she’d been kicked in the thigh for her troubles by Jack’s new colt. Her cousin had picked her up off the ground, dusted her off, and told her she should have known better than to get that close to him when she’d been warned not to. She had known, but it hadn’t helped to have that pointed out, so she’d snarled something at him and left the stables without a ride.

“You bring that face in here and you’ll turn away business.”

“Ha.” Piper slid onto a stool and looked at the couple behind the bar.

Joe Trainer, big, once bad, and handsome. The eldest of the three Trainer boys. Now reformed, he’d been brought to his knees by the beautiful blonde at his side. Both had been harboring scars inflicted by family and were now healing. Their love, Piper had to admit, was a wonderful thing.

Bailey had entered the family with minimal disturbance, and Piper certainly hadn’t minded having another female for the protective Trainers to watch over.

“What’s up, sweet cheeks?” Joe brushed a hand down Bailey’s back as he passed her to reach Piper. He then did the same to her.

“Hit me.”

“With what?” Joe frowned.

“Bourbon, straight up.”

“You don’t drink bourbon. Last time you puked up on the seats of Jack’s pickup. Really pissed him off too, because it took ages to get the stench out.”

Piper let her eyes run over the spirits behind him.

“Rum, then.”

Joe shook his head and leaned closer. “You hate rum. Remember that time when you were eighteen—”

“Jesus, Joe. Those guys in the movies don’t get this much grief when they walk into a bar and order a shot straight up,” Piper fumed. “Give me my moment here!”

Bailey placed a glass of white wine in front of her silently, then leaned in to kiss her cheek. Piper sighed, picked it up, and sipped. The cool, crisp flavor felt good sliding down her throat.

“Talk,” Joe said as he started polishing a glass.

“Please,” Bailey added, getting a soda and joining Piper.

“I don’t pay you to sit,” Joe said, winking at his wife. She smiled back, then blushed a little.