Page 5 of One Kind Soul

“Yeah, yeah.” He stepped into the garage.

“I mean it!”

He gave her a smile and a wave, quite clearly ignoring her warnings, then stopped by Donovan who was tinkering with his tractor as he prepared to cut the grass.

“Later, bro.”

Donovan straightened from where he was bent over the mower deck. “I’d listen to Tessa about the Nicki stuff. That is if you don’t want Nicole to instantly hate you.”

“Hate me? No one hates me.” Christian put his hand to his chest. “Everybody loves me.”

“So you think.”

Christian’s mouth dropped open. “Harsh, man. Harsh.” He walked toward his truck then swiveled back to face his brother. “Who doesn’t love me?”

Donovan laughed. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to let that one roll off your back.”

“Are you busting my stones or do you have actual names of people who don’t like me?”

“Mostly stone busting.”

“Mostly?”

Donovan consulted the clock he had in the garage. “You’d better get moving. Don’t want to keep Nicole waiting.”

Christian released a growl at his older brother’s nonsense and marched to his truck, pausing at the driver side door. “When I get back, you’d better have a list of names and numbers of these so-called non-Christian fans. I’ll convert them all.” He didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he got into his truck and started the engine. A part of his drive to Boston would now require him to think about who hated him.

Thanks, Donovan.

The guy was probably toying with him, but the remote possibility of someone not thinking favorably of him gnawed at him. He tried his best to be a stand-up guy, fun to be around and considerate of others. In fact, he was so wonderful that most of the women he dated wanted him to be their best friend.

Unfortunately, that was all they wanted. He dated a lot, but for some reason, the relationships never got off the ground in the way he wanted them to. They certainly didn’t fall into the same category as what two of his brothers had found. Instead, he always got categorized into The Friend Group and then he’d be on the hunt again.

Only to get put in The Friend Group. Repeatedly. Some might say chronically. Of course Christian denied this phenomenon to his friends and family. Whenever they asked what had happened to that girl you were dating, he said he wasn’t into it so they thought he was something of a playboy.

Not true. He was, apparently, a nice guy in playboy’s clothing. He’d gone so far as to try not being so nice, but it went against everything inside of him.

Mostly inside his heart.

And he needed a better vibe or this drive to Boston was sure to be a looong one.

Christian hit his playlist on his phone and alternative rock flooded the interior of his truck. That’s better. He couldn’t wallow in his friend group problems when the tunes were so good. The weather was great too. A gorgeous May afternoon was unfolding in the mountains of Maplehaven, Vermont and Christian loved everything about that. Outdoors was his favorite place to be even in the dead of winter, but springtime was fun at Shepherd Orchard and Farm. After the quiet of winter, the land was up for tending again and he could get stuff planted in the ground so the summer and fall would yield good results. Sellable results. He’d turned the farm into a year-long money-making enterprise by offering sleigh rides with his horses and ice-skating parties on his pond in the winter, but the bulk of his income came from the stuff he grew, particularly apples.

He’d started out as the manager of Shepherd Orchard and Farm and when Old Man Shepherd passed away, he’d been honored that the guy had left him the property. Christian had been prepared to buy the land from Shepherd when he was ready to sell, but he’d died before that time had come. Although Christian missed the dude, he loved knowing the property was his to command now.

And he had ideas.

Too many actually. Hence the need for pondering time. While growing and selling food was great, Christian had the sense the land was meant for . . . for more. He wasn’t sure what that more was yet. It would come to him. Eventually.

Just like the perfect woman would too. Landon and Donovan hadn’t expected Aliza and Tessa, but here they were now. Christian would be patient. It was hard to be patient though when he’d been subjected to Aliza and Landon’s wedding two months ago and now Tessa and Donovan’s at the end of this week. And in this weekend’s wedding he was Donovan’s best man, a job he took seriously. The brothers had worked out a system for best-manning. Donovan had been Landon’s best man. Christian would be Donovan’s. Jackson would be Christian’s—if that day ever came. Finally, Landon would be Jackson’s.

Something told Christian that Landon would be the next to fill the role of best man because the way things were currently going, his little brother, Jackson—the baby of the family—would probably get married before Christian did. Jackson was more hopeful about Christian finding a chick first though.

“C’mon, man,” he’d said at Christmas when he’d come back to Vermont. “The natural order of things is for you to get married before me.”

“Sorry if my dating life doesn’t fit your Natural Order of Things Official Schedule,” Christian had said.

“Work on it.” Jackson had given him a shove to which Christian had replied with a shove and the two of them had ended up wrestling until Aliza had yelled at them to be careful of the Christmas tree.