No Good Mitchell Read Online Riley Hart, Devon McCormack

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
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“Did you know you’re in love with Brody O’Ralley and just decided not to tell me, or were you not aware? I didn’t just give it away, did I? Oops!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the last part, before I got serious. “I’m not in love with him.” I would know if I was in love with him, wouldn’t I? “I’m in like with him. The more time I spend with him, the more I like him.” Which was why the situation with his dad got to me so much, and that we could never be seen in town together, and his family didn’t know we hung out, or that I was helping with the money issues, or a hundred other things. But that wasn’t love. It was…because he was sexy as hell to look at, and he had a nice, smart mouth I liked to fuck, and he made me laugh, and talked to me about my family, and would do anything for those he loved.

“Well, that’s a start. I’m not going to push harder than that. I honestly thought you wouldn’t even admit that much.”

“It’d be pretty hard to deny. Oh, and I ran into his dad yesterday, which is why we ended up at the bar in the first place, and then, well, a gentleman never tells.”

“This gentleman heard the bed hitting the wall and Brody calling out your name. God, you must be a good fuck, Mitchell. I’m a little sad we’re only besties.”

Laughing, I nudged him with my elbow. “No comment about last night, but yeah, after that and then Dwain this morning, I was fucking done. Even if it’s true and Brody only stayed or came home because of his family, he still fucking did it. That’s what matters. He would do anything for them, and Dwain is a dick. They don’t realize how lucky they are to have him as a brother.”

Isaac patted my thigh. “My dear, sweet, not-in-love-but-totally-in-love Cohen.”

“Oh, look. It’s a gay bear. Go get it.”

“Where?” he joked, his eyes darting around. “That was a mean, mean trick, Cohen Mitchell.” Isaac rested against me again. “What are you going to do?”

I shrugged. “There’s not much I can do. Keep having fun with him and see what happens. He has more to lose than I do.” All I could think was how good we could be together—how good Brody and I could be, and also, how strong Mitchell Creek and the O’Ralleys could be together too.

“You should tell him how you feel.”

“What? Say I have a crush on him and ask him on a date to the diner to share a milkshake with me? Isn’t that what people around here do?”

“So judgy.”

“Learned it from you.”

“Lies. No, just tell him you like him. Also, maybe hide because Dwain is a scary motherfucker and I don’t know what I’d do if he killed my bestie. We should maybe get the locks changed, and I don’t think you should leave the house on your own… I can’t go with you, of course. He’d crush me. Do we have enough in the budget for a bodyguard?”

I laughed again, starting to feel better. “I’m not scared of him. If he keeps giving Brody shit, he’s going to have me to deal with.”

“Aww! You are so sweet when you’re in love!”

“Fuck off. I’m not in love.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“Shut up.”

Isaac sighed. “Those O’Ralleys…they’re something special, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they really are. Fucking country boys, right?” I joked.

We laughed again, then leaned against the door. We were both quiet for a moment before I said, “As crazy as it sounds, and as gossipy as this town is…I like it here.”

“I like it here too. It feels like…”

“Home,” we said together.

It felt like home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Brody

My thoughts were all over the place.

Every O’Ralley kid, except Lee, was queer. Cohen knew how to dance and work a cock in my ass, and apparently, I fucking loved it. And now I’d been betrayed by my own blood, who had to go and ruin the best night of my life.

Betrayal, yes, that’s what it was, and it hurt like hell.

In times like these, I found myself gravitating to a familiar space near the old shed, half a mile from the house. Dwain and Lee had already collected wood in a nearby pile, so I chopped it up on that same stump we’d chopped wood on since I was a teen.

Having discarded my shirt so I could feel the harsh summer sun beating against my back, I was working up a good sweat when I heard the sound of a four-wheeler.

Surely Mel or Walker searching for me, I assumed, so I didn’t bother to look. I didn’t want to talk to either of them, or see their expressions, which had already given away too much in Cohen’s kitchen. That none of them had stood up for my loyalty was enough to fuel my rage.


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