“Uncle Ennis says that she’s the marrying type. Chased her old boyfriend all over town and tried to get him to marry her until he got smart and bailed a few days before the wedding.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows. “She might decide to lasso you next. Best be careful around that one. She sounds like a man-eater.”

“Doc said that, huh?” Hank commented, voice dry. He doubted that very much. Oh, there was probably a grain of truth somewhere in there, mixed in with Jack’s exaggerations. “That’s not what she’s like.”

“You sure?” Caleb asked, his expression thoughtful. “You’re over there every night.”

He scowled at his brothers. “She’s a good cook.”

“That’s because she wants a husband.”

They had it all wrong. Hadn’t Becca told him she wanted to keep things casual? And even though they were together every night, all over each other, they’d never gone beyond heavy petting and oral. It wasn’t because he was afraid of kids; that was for sure.

It was because that whole “casual” word haunted him every damned night.

Casual.

She wanted to be casual.

It drove him nuts. “Casual” was bullshit. What did that mean? That she wanted to go out with those guys that winked and flirted with her? That she wanted to keep her options open even though she was dating Hank?

He was obsessed with the word “casual,” and not in a good way. He was also obsessed with Becca, but that part he didn’t mind.

“Should we get tuxes?” Jack asked, teasing. “For the inevitable wedding?”

Hank turned and growled at his brother, alarming the horse. He immediately put a hand on Trixie’s neck, trying to calm her skittish movements. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I do,” Jack said boldly, pretending to rub his short beard. Out of the three of them, he was the only one that cut his close to his jaw. Said it was to show off his baby face, but Jack was also never serious. “I think we’re just days away from you deciding you want a cute little bride to take back to Alaska with you once we finish up here.”

His nostrils flared. Hank knew he was going to upset the horse again, so he calmly left the stall and shut it behind him, then glared at Jack. “You’re wrong.”

Hank’s tone must have gotten through his brother’s thick skull. Jack exchanged a look with Caleb and they trailed after him as he headed deeper into the barn. “What crawled up your ass?”

“Nothing,” Hank said gruffly.

“Something,” Caleb added, and waited.