By Linda Lael Miller
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Additional info for Montana Creeds: Tyler (Enriched Edition)
Sample text
It’s got near a hundred thousand miles on it, this junker, and every once in a while, a part falls off. Last week, it was the muffler—” Tyler nodded, weary of Walt’s prattle but not about to show it. “That’s the idea,” he replied quietly. The aging redneck approached the Cadillac, touched the hood with something like reverence. ” Walt asked, understandably suspicious. After all, Tyler reflected, a man didn’t run across a deal like that every day, especially in Crap Creek, Montana, or whatever the hell that wide spot in the road was called.
Dylan laughed again, but it was a raw, gruff sound, without a trace of humor. ” In spite of himself, Tyler laughed, too. ” Dylan asked. He was downright loquacious, old Dylan. “Stop calling me ‘little brother,’” Tyler told him. ” “You’ll always be the baby of the family. ” Dylan downshifted, with a grinding of gears, and they jostled up the lake road, toward Tyler’s cabin. “Answer my question. ” Tyler let out a long sigh. “Damned if I know,” he admitted. “I guess I’m tired of the open road. ” Again, Tyler’s temper, never far beneath the surface, stirred inside him.
He was a loner for sure—more so than either of his brothers, and that was saying something. ” Never knowing which direction to jump, but always and forever ready to sidestep some missile. And maybe it was the brief time he’d spent with Dylan that day, reminding him that having brothers could be a good thing. For some people. People who weren’t Creeds, that is. In any case, he’d called Lily, without even stopping to think that she might be involved with some lucky bastard. She’d agreed to go out to dinner with him, though, and that was a start.