Cain snorted, looking at his cousin in his fancy-pants party shirt. “You think your scrawny arms gonna catch her?”
Woodman frowned, his brows creasing, and Cain had it in him to feel bad. Even though Klaus appeared to prefer his nephew over his son, which had set up a natural rivalry between them, Cain couldn’t bring himself to hate Josiah. Without the benefit of a brother or sister, Woodman was all he had, and deep down Cain loved his cousin as much as he could love anyone in the world. Woe to the fucker who messed with Josiah ’cause Cain would end him, but that didn’t mean that he himself didn’t love getting under Woodman’s skin a little.
Cain pulled off his denim jacket and flexed his muscles, winking at Ginger. “Jump to me, sweet thing.”
Woodman scowled at him before turning his eyes back to Ginger. “Come on, now.”
Something in Woodman’s voice—something sappy—distracted Cain, and he turned to his cousin, narrowing his eyes as he noted the earnest look in Woodman’s eyes and the rigidity of his open palms as he stared up with devotion at the little girl in the hayloft door. Ginger had always been like a little sister to them, but something in Woodman’s voice felt different. And it definitely didn’t feel very brotherly.
Cain glanced up at Ginger, then back at his cousin’s devoted expression.
Nah, he thought quickly. She’s just a kid. Woodman doesn’t like her like that. He couldn’t. She’s just a kid. Just Princess Ginger.
But he looked at his cousin’s face yet again, and as the unavoidable truth sank in, he kept himself from rolling his eyes. How had Cain missed this? All those times Woodman had Heath saddled and ready for Ginger with an eager smile . . . or spent an extra hour combing the chocolate-colored mare . . . or hell, the way he always insisted on mucking out Heath’s stall before Ginger came down to the barn . . . Well, Cain had just assumed that he was being his usual eager-beaver self. But, oh Lord, there was more to it. It was for Ginger. Woodman liked her. Liked a kid. Liked the little princess.
Smirking with amusement, Cain decided to test his theory, winking at Ginger before training his eyes on Woodman to gauge his cousin’s reaction.
“Jump to the one you love the most, darlin’,” he called.
Sure enough, Woodman’s jaw clenched, and his cheek ticked anxiously, flinching as he waited for Ginger to choose between them.
Bingo.
“Dang it, Cain! Now you went’n wrecked it!”
Cain watched his cousin’s shoulders relax, then turned to look up at Ginger, grinning at her frowny face.
“What’d I do?”
Aside from discovering that my cousin has a ginormous crush on you, little girl.
“You know I can’t choose between y’all. Not like that. That’s not how it works!” she yelled, then disappeared from sight, no doubt coming downstairs to give him what-for.
Woodman turned to face him. “Nice goin’, jackass.”
Cain grinned at Woodman, wondering how far he could take his teasing before getting decked. “Someone has a little crush.”
“Shut up, Cain.”
“She’s practically still in nursery school.”
“I said shut up.”
“Touchy, touchy.”
“About her? You bet your ass. And in case you hadn’t noticed, she’s not such a little kid anymore,” said Woodman, thoroughly annoyed.
“And you’re thinkin’ . . . what? You want to be her boyfriend?”
His face was entirely serious as he answered, “Someday, yes.”
“You stakin’ a claim here, Josiah?” he drawled, trying not to laugh.
“Yes.” His cousin’s eyes were grave and serious, and his voice carried the tone of a man taking a vow. “I am.” He paused for a moment, staring at Cain, then asked, “You got a problem with that?”
“Nope.”
“Sure? Because I’m serious about this. About her.”
“Serious about a little kid?” said Cain, a snicker escaping as he slapped Woodman on the back. “Hell, cuz, you ain’t gonna get any honey from that little hive for a long, long time while I got a real woman waitin’ for me. Frankly, I just feel sorry for you.”
“I don’t mind the wait,” said Woodman softly. “I’m . . . well, I’m goin’ to marry her someday. I’ll wait for her forever if I have to.” He shrugged Cain’s hand away before snapping, “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
Cain nodded, still chuckling at Woodman’s ridiculous crush. “Yup.”
“Were you even invited here today?”
“Nope.”
They both knew he wasn’t.
“Surprised you made the cut,” said Cain, unable to keep a slight bite out of his tone, “with the amount of time you spend muckin’ horse shit with my dad.”
Woodman crossed his arms over his chest, looking imperious. “I’m here with my folks today, not as a stablehand.”
“Of course you are,” said Cain, feeling sour. He flicked a glance at the sparkling gold high school ring on Josiah’s finger. Cain’s parents hadn’t been able to afford one for him, and since Cain was saving up for a pair of wheels, he’d gone without. “With the pretty hands to prove it.”