Rainbow Hill Read Free Page A

down so we can talk this out.”
    He didn’t know if it was that voice, those eyes, or those thighs, but Ethan did what was asked.
    “When my father—”
    “Frank.” Ethan smiled tightly.
    “When my father, Frank, lost my mom, his world collapsed. The love of his life was gone, but the medical bills continued to pile up. He couldn’t cope.” Quinn’s eyes narrowed, and he lowered his head. “When Dad was young, he had a drinking problem, and with Mom’s help, he got sober. My entire life, I never saw him take one sip of alcohol. Since the funeral, he hasn’t stopped. I suspect he believes he doesn’t have anything left to live for.”
    To say that Ethan felt like an asshole was the understatement of the century. “I didn’t know.”
    “Of course not,” Quinn said. “Why would you?”
    Tucker leaned back against his chair. “It’s my mission to give Frank something to look forward to. He needs my help, and I need his.”
    “Are you in financial trouble?” Ethan asked Tucker.
    Tucker began to explain. “There are very few working farms left in the area. Every day more are selling out. Did you see that eyesore of a development outside of town? Cookie-cutter houses with cookie-cutter cars where the Browns’ cornfields used to be. They got too old and tired to continue. One son’s in California being a lawyer, and the other is a big shot at the FBI. They have families of their own to take care of.”
    “Where are the Browns now?”
    “Don’t have a clue? It’s not like our set texts on our smart phones, Ethan. Wherever they are, I’m positive they’re missing here.”
    “And how am I supposed to help, exactly?” Ethan couldn’t help but feel suspicious with Quinn staring a hole right through him.
    “Since we last saw each other, I’ve been busy.” Quinn’s gaze intensified.
    “And when was it we last saw each other?” Ethan knew the answer, but he wondered if Quinn did.
    Quinn stroked his stubble-covered jaw with the backs of his fingers. “I vaguely remember the sounds of a marching band and people cheering. It was cool that night.” A knowing smile spread across his lips. “But it got warmer.”
    Heart lurching, Ethan felt his pants tighten. “Um, yeah. That would be about right,” he said, his voice catching ever so slightly. “I believe we had a good time that night.”
    “Quinn here has a degree in farming,” Tucker said.
    “Agriculture,” Quinn corrected.
    “That, too.”
    Tucker continued. “And we thought we would put his fancy education, mine and Frank’s years of experience, and your,” Tucker paused, brows knitted together, “that thing you do, and turn this place around. Make Oak Hill a destination.”
    “Destination,” Ethan choked out. “For what? To what?”
    “For starters, people like you?” Tucker grinned, Ethan noticed his father’s gold crown usually hidden in the far reaches of his mouth. “And him.” He cocked his head toward Quinn.
    “Gays,” Quinn explained.
    “I know what he meant,” Ethan clarified, “but the last I heard, you were batting for the other team.”
    The slightest hint of a blush colored Quinn’s cheeks. “Not anymore.”
    God oh god oh god!
    “You can turn it off and on that easily?” Ethan said.
    “This little get-together isn’t about my homosexuality.”
    “Shouldn’t that be bisexuality since you were married once?” Ethan asked. For some reason, he was taking intense pleasure in turning the proverbial knife in Quinn’s muscular back. He deserved it for marrying a woman when he was gay.
    “May I continue?” Quinn said through gritted teeth.
    “By all means, please do.”
    “Our fathers, and myself, believe we should join together and get this farm to maximum working capacity. Maximize crop rotation, better housing for the herd, attempt more modern ways of farming.
    “Okay,” Ethan said, his words measured, “but where does the destination plan for gays and urbanites out for a country weekend come into