The Fifth

Damion

“Oliver needs to be here. This is a great place to raise a kid. He was happy here and I had no business yanking him back and forth across the country. It is official. I am here to stay, and I have no plans to leave again. I don’t care about the inheritance or any of it. I’m going to live the life of a farmer. I’m stepping into the very large shoes my grandpa left behind. I just really, really hope I don’t completely fuck it up.”

He smirked. “And Alex had nothing to do with it.”

I grinned, shrugging a shoulder and saying nothing.

“Ah, I see you’re taking the fifth. That says everything. Not having an answer is the answer in itself.”

I avoided his gaze. “How have you been?” I asked, doing a very poor job of smoothly changing the subject.

“I’m good. Have some time off and trying to stay busy. If I’m not chasing women, I’m drinking. Both activities get me in trouble.”

“I could see why,” I said with a laugh.

“Maybe I should go on over to New York and see what trouble I can find,” he