“We wouldn’t want the town going and throwing a celebration party if both Black men died in the same week, would we?” I replied, continuing over the treacherous terrain. “Thanks for the tip but no thanks. I’m a cowboy. The real kind. We don’t take our boots off, god dammit.”

Jesse tossed a pebble my way. “Don’t or won’t?”

“With me, Jess, they are one and the same.” After slipping yet again, I finally made it to the rock Jesse had climbed and heaved myself up. “Nice suit, shithead.” The only time I’d seen Jesse in a suit was at a funeral or a school dance. In Montana, men only wear suits for death or dancing. True story.

“Nice lack of suit, dipshit.” Jesse shoved me as I sat beside him, keeping a respectable distance so we wouldn’t look like a couple of love birds watching the river pass by.

“So . . . now that you’ve got me out here which, by the way, is so very serene and inspiring”—I swept my arm dramatically—“why don’t you just let me have it so I can go get shit-faced like I need to. You don’t bury the man who wished he’d never given birth to you every day, you know.”

Jesse almost sounded like he mumbled dipshit, but I couldn’t be sure. Grabbing one of the flat rocks he’d piled up beside him, he flung it out into the river. It skipped five times. Weak. “How are you? What’s going on in that depraved head of yours right now?” Points for getting straight to the point. Negative points for getting straight to that point.

“I’m living the dream, Jess. Fucking on top of the world.” I grabbed my own rock and launched it out into the river. Six skips. I grinned.

“Yeah, you sure look like you’re living the dream.” Jesse didn’t examine the scruff on my face, or the dark circles under my eyes, or the notch I was down to on my belt. His words and tone said it all.

“Yeah, yeah. Bite me. Next question.” One down. Knowing Jesse, probably only a few million more to go.

“Do you need anything? Is there anything . . . you know . . . I can do for you?”

I wasn’t sure who looked more uncomfortable: Jesse or me. “You know, your fee-an-say knew better than to ask those exact same questions. She basically told me she knew I either wouldn’t give her an answer, or if I did, it wouldn’t be a straight one. So what makes you think I’ll give you an answer or a straight one?” I flung another rock, and it barely skipped three times. The stupid Kumbayah conversation was messing with my stone-skipping skills.

“Because I, unlike my sweet one hundred and twenty pound soaking wet fiancé, can and will happily kick your ass in order to beat the answers out of you if need be.” I broke out in laughter. Stomach-grabbing, body-rocking laughter. “What?” Jesse shoved my arm. “What’s so funny?”

After forcing myself to calm down, I answered him. “I can’t decide what’s funnier—you describing Rowen as sweet or being so confident you can kick my ass.”

“Watch it, Black. I can put up with you insulting me all the way to the second coming, but I won’t tolerate for one fraction of a second you insulting Rowen.” He interrupted me before I could say what I was about to. “In jest or not. I’m protective like that.”

“Protective? You? No way.” As much as I loved giving Jesse a hard time —in fact, it was a favorite pastime—when it came to Rowen, it was only out of habit. “You know I like the two of you at least ten times more than I like myself, right? I might talk a lot of shit, but you know if either of you needed anything . . . anything . . . I’d give my fucking life if need be. Right?” I nudged him, making sure he was getting what I was saying. I’d shove him straight off the rock if that’s what it took for him to get it. “Right, Jess? You know that, right?”

Jesse’s face couldn’t have gotten more solemn. Then he grinned. “Are we having another moment?”

I should have shoved him off the rock. “Shithead.”

Jesse laughed, sending another rock skipping into the river. I was too pissed to count. “I know. Difficult as you are and as much as I know you’d rather chop off your left arm than show any real emotion, I know you’ve got Rowen’s and my back when and if we need it.” He paused just long enough to cue me in that he was winding up to say something big. Jesse loved using dramatic pauses. “You do know, though, that friends-through-thick-and-thin goes both ways, right? You need something, we’re a phone call or a five-hundred mile drive away.”

“So you shouldn’t be the first person I call if I sever my carotid artery?”

“Only if you’ve got a death wish.” That ever-present hint of smile fell clean off of Jesse’s face. “Shit, Garth. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that . . .”

“Walker, please, for the love of god”—I picked up one of the rocks just so I could squeeze it—“don’t start treating me like I’m some nut case about to stuff my head in an oven. Give me enough credit that I’m too self-centered to do something like that because really, I can’t take another person treating me like I’m going to implode if they say the wrong thing.”

Jesse stared out into the river before nodding. “I can do that. No imploding nut cases around here.”

“Ha. Other than the one beside me.”

“At least your warped sense of humor is still intact,” Jesse replied.

“In tip-top shape actually.” The rock I was squeezing was either going to break a few bones in my hand or crumble, so before either rock or hand broke, I hurled it into the river. No skipping that time.

“If you want to take some time off and come hang out with Rowen and me in Seattle—”

I lifted my hand, stopping him. “Again, your woman already beat you to the offer-the-loon-refuge punch. If I wasn’t terrified of the permanent damage that would be done to me hearing the two of your freaky mating sounds, I might actually take Seattle and your couch into consideration.”

“Green much?” Jesse quipped, unfazed.

“Gloat much?”

Jesse sighed. “Take it or leave it, just so long as you know you’re welcome whenever. Okay?”

I nodded my acknowledgement because I knew Jesse wouldn’t let it go until I did. Before he could get anything else out, because lord knows, that guy couldn’t not talk if his life depended on it, I took the conversation and ran with it. “So, what about you? How’s pussy-whipped life . . . I mean ball-and-chain life . . . I mean married life . . . I mean engaged life treating you?”

“Just so you know, if you hadn’t just been at your dad’s funeral fifteen minutes ago, your ass would be off this rock right now.”

“Fuck, Jess. I thought I told you to stop treating me like a self-imploder?”

He shrugged. “Fine.”

Then before I noticed him move, my ass didn’t fall off that rock—it flew off. It was a damn good thing said ass landed on a patch of sand, or I would have paid back the favor and then some. “I sure have missed you, Jess. Kind of like the girl you screw once and who just won’t take a hint that you don’t want to slap a ring on her.”

“Missed you too, pal.”

“This summer, eh? You’re really ready to castrate yourself?” I’d almost climbed back on top of the rock when Jesse gave me a warning look. “I mean, you’re really ready to tie the knot?”

“I’m really ready.”

“My god, Walker. You are insane.”

“It’s a concept you will never quite grasp, I get it.” Jesse slid out of his suit coat and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

“What? Getting married?”

His head moved side to side. “No, loving a woman enough to even imagine getting married.”

“Ouch.” I thumped my fist against my chest. “I just ‘buried’ my father. Take it easy on me.”

“I thought you didn’t want me treating you any differently.”

“So did I,” I replied.

“Well make up your mind already.” Jesse smiled at me and hell if I couldn’t not smile back.

“What’s the rush?”

“I was planning on asking you to be my best man, but that seems wrong if you’re still under the belief that love and marriage are your arch nemeses. I need a best man who’ll support me and have my back, not one who’ll try to talk me out of saying ‘I do’ right up until I say it.” I glanced over at him, lifting my brows. “Or talk me out of it after saying ‘I do,’” Jesse added with an eye roll. “Not exactly the kind of stuff a guy needs in a best man.”