Free To Have a Wilde (Wilde in Wyoming) by Kimberly Kaye Terry Page B

in his hand.
    “No damn wonder. Light beer? May as well get me a bottle of milk,” he griped, yet brought the bottle to his mouth and finished it. “Can’t wait to get back to my brewery.”
    A look passed between Key and Nick. They knew their father was feeling better if he was ranting about beer. The man was a self-proclaimed aficionado of all beer and had been brewing it from the time they were small boys.
    They hid their grins.
    “So what gives...what’s going on? And don’t tell me ‘nothing,’ I know something is going on. And it sure in hell is something more than that crew running ’round here causing the disharmony.”
    After making the pronouncement he pierced each man with a stare.
    The humor dropped away, and Key held his tongue. Although Alek Kealoha hadn’t been working as much as he used to before the stroke, Key knew their father was as aware of what was going on at the ranch as when he was fully working it.
    “Is it something going on with the production crew? Seemed like that was doing fine. The exposure for your mother was the reason we all agreed. But I know that she wouldn’t want that at the expense of the ranch,” he said, and Key felt guilt stab at him. It wasn’t the show that was the problem.
    It was the things he wanted to do with the producer that was the problem.
    Damn.
    “Far as I’m concerned, the crew is the least of the problem. I think you need to ask Key what the problem is.” Nick was the first to speak, ignoring the glare Key sent his way.
    “What, man?” Nick said. “All I know is that for the last few months you’ve been acting like something crawled up your butt you didn’t like, and—”
    “ Nothing could crawl up my butt that I’d like, bro, let’s get that straight. I’m not into all that kinky shit you seem to—”
    “I have a feeling it has something to do with more than the film crew. I think our shy kid here has a crush on—”
    “And I sure in hell haven’t been called a ‘shy kid’ since I was a damn kid. If you got something to say, bro, spill it. If not, you know what you can—”
    “Enough.” The one word brought the brothers’ heated words to a halt.
    While the verbal exchange was going on, Alek Kealoha sat back, crossed his big arms over his chest and watched his sons going at it like two rabid pit bulls.
    He sighed. “What in hell is going on around here? Really going on,” Alek asked, and glanced up as Mahi chose that moment to begin bringing over the evening meal.
    “I’ve been asking them the same damn thing, Alek. Can’t seem to get to the bottom of it. Tension so thick you could cut it with the back end of a rusty hoe,” the old man groused, and, before anyone could say anything in rebuttal, he placed the food on the table and turned away.
    “Maybe you can do something with them. Been like this off and on for the better part of a week. I’ll turn these knuckleheaded boys of yours over to you, gladly.” He grumbled and left the kitchen, with all eyes on him.
    Alek gave them each a look that brought back memories to Key of when they were young boys and were about to get in deep-shit trouble.
    Which was more often than not, he thought and glanced over at his twin. They exchanged a look, one that told him his brother’s thoughts were the same as his.
    Yes, things had been tense lately, Key acknowledged that, but he and Nick usually worked it out, and nothing major had happened they hadn’t been able to handle.
    He held his brother’s gaze for a moment before turning to look at their father.
    “Looking good, Dad. Glad to see you up,” Nick said gruffly, but Key heard real emotion in his brother’s voice, one that he shared.
    Key observed their father and tried to hide his surprise and joy at the sight of him at the table, obviously ready to join them for dinner.
    The times his father came and ate with them for dinner had been few and far between since their mother’s death nearly a year ago and his father’s