Cade.
Ty lifted his head, shocked at the volume the drumming between his ears immediately escalated to.Wow, he mouthed, gripping his temples. “Shh.” At the hissed command, the invisible musicians banged harder on their drums.
If they were within reach, he’d pinch their little heads off.
Bastards.
As if it were their fault.
Why am I thinking of them as sentient beings?
Refocusing, he realized Eli had crashed along the foot of the bed while Ty had ended up crossways. He rolled over, and the entire room pitched. He slammed his eyelids closed, gripped the edge of the mattress and swallowed repeatedly. Bravery didn’t return to him for several minutes. He hated throwing up.
When the worst of the spinning nausea passed, he chanced a peek through half-slit lids to find Cade curled up on the floor. The larger man had fallen asleep again, but he wouldn’t stay that way. Sunlight crept across the floor with every progressive tick of the clock’s hand. In less than half an hour, Cade would be hit full in the face with the morning sun.
Ty squinted harder. “At least I won’t suffer alone.”
The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee crept through the room.
He groaned his appreciation.
His brothers responded in kind.
He tried to grin but his face almost broke, and the drummers in his head went wild.
“Rise and shi— Hell’s bells, boys.” Reagan sounded choked. “It smells like a bar down here.”
A booted foot crunched over what he assumed were peanut hulls, adding a thundering bass line to the chorus in his head.
“What did you three do last night?” she demanded.
Ty threw an arm over his face and mumbled, “Tried to figure out women. Apparently the answer doesnotlie at the bottom of a bourbon bottle. Who knew?”
Eli must have moved because the mattress shifted. “No shouting. Have a little respect for the dead.”
A soft feminine cough preceded a second woman’s voice.Emma.“Cade?”
“What Eli said. Dead. No shouting.”
Emma laughed softly. “You know, I figured you’d cut yourself off before it got this bad.”
“Would have, but there’s apparently a man code. I got my card last night,” he answered, a little pride woven through the evident misery.
Ty blindly held out a hand. “I’m not married to you or getting married to you, so I get coffee first.”
“Why?” Eli groused, sitting up and cradling his head with a pained look.
“Because you, my brothers, are going to get feminine sympathy. I’m going to get—”
“Your ass kicked,” said a stern male voice he didn’t recognize.
His brothers staggered to their feet and put themselves between him and the door.
Always with the saving me. Kenzie was right. I’m the freaking damsel of the Covington clan.
The thought of her ripped the painful wound of the truth open all over again. He’d drunk to forget. Apparently, “amnesia in a bottle” was temporary and not only caused physical hangovers but provided a sustainable fuel source for emotional ones.
Gripping the iron headboard for support, he rose to his feet. One look at the man in the doorway was all he needed to realize the shit storm that was about to rain down on him. “Good morning, Mr. Malone.”