Page 1 of Choosing Us

CHAPTER ONE

That little shit.

I can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes me as I survey the monstrosity in my backyard that was absolutely not there when I left town on Sunday evening. Pulling my cell out of my pocket, I sit in one of the rocking chairs on my back deck and dial the culprit.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I don’t bother with greetings—he knows exactly what I’m calling about.

“Hello to you too, Ryan. I’m guessing by your warm greeting that you made it home safe and sound?” I can hear the grin in his voice. For the last year, Jack has made multiple comments about how my backyard needed a basketball court, but not all of us are billionaires like my oldest brother, so my personal financial goals did not include dropping seventy-five-thousand dollars on something like that.

“How did you pull this off? I didn’t get an alert on my security system, and you clearly had an entire fucking construction crew here.” I stare in disbelief at the full-sized basketball court until it is suddenly flooded with light, and I notice the light pole on the edge of the court. “And … Jack, why are there lights that just turned on? How much is that going to cost a month?”

“Obviously, I needed to add those so you can see if you want to play at night. I had the system set to auto turn on tonight at dusk just for dramatic effect, but you can decide when you want them on or if you want them to be activated by the motion sensors. Don’t worry, it’s fully solar powered, so no change to your detailed monthly budget. I had Liam reroute your security feeds; they were still being monitored, just not by you, specifically. You had a looped feed of the day before you left. Did you see the logo?”

Jack’s nonchalance is par for the course, and it’s not like I’m going to tear it up, it’s a really nice court. I stand and walk over, noticing the subtle upgrades and some sort of rubber flooring used for the actual court. This asshole put a custom full-size NBA regulation basketball court in my yard, including a custom logo for The Cavalry at center court.

“We have a logo now, huh?” I can’t help but grin because as annoyed as I should be, this is actually a really awesome gift.

“Felt right. That was actually Jett’s suggestion and he handled those details.” Jett is Jack’s assistant, and I don’t know if the guy ever sleeps, but he solves any and all problems my billionaire brother throws at him.

“I don’t even want to know what you spent on this, do I? This has to be more than seventy-five-thousand dollars, man.” Jack knows me, which means he knows I’ll need the details, or it will drive me nuts.

“A little north of that … but did you see the four-square lines I added for our nieces? I think they’ll love it.” Sure enough, in the palest pink that’s a stark contrast to the royal blue court is what appears to be a four-square court.

I didn’t miss the redirection. “How far north?”

“I don’t think the final total went over two-fifty, but we upgraded some materials, so I’m not sure, to be honest. What are you going to do about it, Ryan? It’s done, it’s there, enjoy it.”

“Jack, I can’t accept this. It’s too much.” As the Chief Financial Officer for Forrest Falls Hospital, I make a good living, but he just spent my annual salary on installing a custom basketball court at my house.

“Semantics. I didn’t do it for you; you just happen to live there. I miss playing basketball with my brothers, and until my own house is built, this is the next best thing. Plus, if I put it at Dad’s, he would pull something trying to practice or show off to the grandkids.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“No, that’s Finn. I’m pragmatic,” Jack insists, but I know he’s still grinning. And he’s right, what am I going to do—demolish a beautiful custom basketball court that I know will get a lot of use with my family? He knew how to do this and get away with it, too.

“I’m conflicted because I suppose I should thank you, but I feel like that might only encourage further … gifts to my property.”

“Do you want me to top this one?”

“No, this is plenty.”

“Then just accept it and move on, man.”

“I’ll try.”

“You don’t have a lot of options. But you can complain about it more after I beat you when I’m back in town next week.”

“Bring it, old man.” He’s only three and a half years older than me, but I take every chance I can to remind him of his age, especially that at forty-one, he is closer to fifty than thirty now.

We are all getting old, but some things—like pranking our siblings—will never change.

As a sibling group, we are all close, but there are also unique bonds within our individual relationships with one other that ultimately make the sibling group stronger as a whole and more united.

Like my relationship with Savannah, we've always understood each other in a way that goes beyond verbal explanation. Mama would say it was because we were near-twins, referring to Irish twins, but my birthday fell twenty-five days short of Savannah and me being considered Irish twins.

In fact, our parents came close to having Irish twins multiple times.

Jack may be the oldest at forty-one, but our brother, Liam, is thirteen months younger than him, and Savannah is sixteen months younger than Liam.