4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
“Good lord, my nerves are shot. Why can’t my grandmother be into knitting or something normal?” Tank asked, his huge fingers making white marks where they were digging into my forearm.
“First of all, ow . I’d like to retain some nerve function in that arm, thank you very much.” My six-foot-eight friend loosened his grip infinitesimally as we watched his seventy-six-year-old grandma hoot and holler while she rode atop a camel.
“Look at me, Dwayne! Yeehaw!” She waved wildly, making her pink curls bounce.
“Gram, can you please hold on with both hands?” Tank yelled. The woman stared him down while defiantly lifting both hands in the air like she was riding a roller coaster.
I fucking love old people .
“She’s fine, Tank, but why does she keep calling her boyfriend Dwayne? I thought his name was Jorge.”
He glared, his bright blue irises barely visible between his lids. “First of all, he’s her friend , not her boyfriend . And second, she calls him that because she thinks he looks like Dwayne Johnson. ”
My gaze shifted to the pale wisp of a man standing outside the paddock, and I squinted to try and find any resemblance whatsoever to the professional wrestler-turned-actor.
“You, uh, think Gram has cataracts or something?”
“She already had them removed, remember? I had to drive her to her appointments.”
“That’s right.” I looked back at the man wearing brown corduroy pants and a matching jacket, despite the weather being in the eighties today. “Huh. I’m not seeing it. The Rock is humongous, and this little dude only weighs about a buck-oh-five. I mean, they’re both bald, but…”
“Gram made him shave his head because she said his combover was ridiculous. That’s when she started calling him Dwayne. I was confused for two weeks, thinking she had a new friend until Bristol clued me in that Jorge is Dwayne.”
We were at Bode and Landree’s drive-through safari for Mia and Mason’s eighth birthday party, and they were giving camel rides to the kids. And apparently to frisky septuagenarians.
“Gram, you about done?” Tank called, and the older lady nodded.
“I suppose I should let the kids have another turn,” she yelled back, and he hightailed it over to help her down from the large beast.
“Hold on to my shoulders, and I’ll lift you off.”
“Now, be careful, honey. Don’t let my dress ride up,” Gram said in a loud voice. “Don’t want anyone seeing my thong.”
Tank’s face turned the approximate shade of a ripe beet… and it wasn’t from the effort of lifting his tiny grandma from the back of a camel .
“Hi, Hawk.” I looked down to see Bode’s mother standing beside me, a knowing smirk on her magenta lips.
“Hey, India.”
“Anything new in your life?” she sang.
“Not a thing,” I said firmly. We’d seen each other at family functions, but I’d managed to avoid being alone with her since our disagreement at the wedding five months ago. I wasn’t sure why her… proclamation got under my skin, but I had to admit it did.
“In time,” she said over her shoulder as she strode away. Goosebumps prickled the skin of my arms, despite the warm May sun beating down.
Swiping my hands up and down my forearms to wipe them away, I turned my attention back to Tank.
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered as he ambled toward me, shaking his head in frustration. “She’s going to be the death of me.”
“Do you think her thong is pink to match her hair?” I asked, barely keeping a straight face.
Tank glared at me in silence for a long beat. “I hate you.”
I laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, dude. Gram is awesome. Everyone should be as joyful as her at her age.”
“I know, and I’m glad she’s living her life to the fullest, but if she’d have fallen off that damn camel, it would have broken every bone in her body. And I certainly don’t want to know about her underwear situation.” A shudder ran through his large frame.
Tank’s wife approached, her dark hair flowing around her shoulders. “Here, Waylon. Hold this little chunk. I’m going to ride the camel now.” She stuffed Amelia into his arms, and he turned exasperated eyes toward me .
“Are all the women in my life trying to give me an aneurysm?” he asked, his eyes diverting to Bristol’s swinging ass as she strolled away. The woman knew how to walk… I’d give her that.
He was distracted by Amelia smacking him in the face. “DaDa!”
“What is it, angel?” he asked, turning his full attention to his little one. She had Bris’s dark hair and Tank’s bright blue eyes, and she looked like a living doll.
“I hungry.”
“Let DaDa search his magic pockets,” he teased, fumbling around with his right hand.
“Here, let me take her,” I said, and he handed Amelia over to me before pulling about five different items from the pockets of his cargo shorts. Magic pockets, indeed.
“Okay, baby. I’ve got fruit snacks, Cheetos—”
“Teetos!” she squealed happily, and he opened a Ziploc bag of the orange puffy snacks before handing her two of them. Amelia promptly stuffed one in my mouth before chomping on the end of the other. “Mmm,” she hummed, her eyes rolling back in bliss.
“Do you want to ride the camel, sweetie?” I asked, and she dipped her chin shyly, shaking her head.
“Thank god,” I heard Tank mumble.
I nibbled on her downy soft cheek, making her giggle when my beard tickled her. After downing her Cheeto, she snuggled her face into my neck.
“She likes her Uncle Hawk,” her father said, smiling fondly.
None of my buddies and I were actually related, but we were brothers in every way that counted. Ever since we’d all met in the Navy when we were in our early twenties .
I patted her tiny back and winked at Tank. “What can I say? Chicks dig me.”
“The food was delicious,” Shark said, patting his stomach as we all sat around Bode and Landree’s living room.
“I think I ate an entire rack of ribs by myself,” Taz groaned, and her husband leaned over and rubbed her belly. They’d found out the week before that she’s expecting a baby. She had no baby bump yet. None at all. Yet Woody acted as if she was nine months pregnant by the way he had his hand on her abdomen as much as humanly possible.
“Glad you enjoyed them,” Bode said. “We used Landree’s special rub on them.” He winked over at his pretty, red-haired wife.
“It’s Dad’s original recipe. I just tweaked it a little.”
Her father, Ray, smiled. “I use the usual stuff. Paprika, cumin, brown sugar, salt, pepper, garlic. But I also add a little coyote pepper. That’s where that spice comes from.”
Everyone exchanged looks. Ray often did this… mixed up words or phrases.
“Dad, that’s cayenne pepper,” Landree said, her lips twitching.
His face creased into a frown. “Are you sure? I thought it was coyote. I’ve always wondered if they just called it that or if it had some kind of coyote extract or something.”
“Dear, it’s cayenne,” his wife, Linda, confirmed patiently, patting his hand as the rest of us tried to fight our snickers .
“Huh. Learn something new every day, don’t cha?” Ray said with a big grin. “So, what’s everyone up to this summer? Any big plans?”
“Not much for us,” Shark said, cuddling his daughter, Harper, against his shoulder. “Hard to travel with a newborn.”
“We’re sticking around here too,” Shiloh threw in. “Cam’s cousin Mallori is coming to stay with us.”
“What is she? Like, twelve now?” I asked, and Cam laughed.
“She’s twenty-four, dude. Finished her last year of college online and is starting physical therapy school in the fall.”
“Wow, okay. These kids grow up fast.”
“Right? She’ll be staying with us until her dorm room is ready in August. She should be here in early June.”
“Is she Collin’s sister?” Bristol asked.
“No, Mal is an only child. My dad’s brothers are Brian and Nolan. Mallori is Brian’s, and Collin and his three brothers are Nolan’s sons.”
“Why is she coming so early?” Woody asked.
“I think she wants to get acclimated,” Shiloh answered before tightening her lips into a straight line. “But mostly, she probably wants to get away from her mother. She’s one of those stage moms.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Shark’s wife, Charli, said. “She’s a dancer.”
Bode and Landree’s oldest daughter appeared in the entrance to the living room. “Ummm, I think someone needs to check on the little kids. They’re… well, you need to just come look.”
“Are they okay?” Shark asked, leaning forward in his armchair, his eyes filled with worry as baby Harper stirred.
“They’re not hurt or anything,” Katie replied, gnawing on her bottom lip .
“I’ll go,” Charli said, smoothing her hand through her husband’s hair. “They probably just made a mess or something.”
“Or something,” Katie muttered, rolling her eyes in that way only a ten-year-old can properly accomplish. “It’s… bad.”
That had all of us standing and following the little blonde to the playroom. As we approached, we could hear a pftt pftt sound and then Bella Fitz saying, “Mia, you can roll over here and L.J., you go over there.”
All the adults crowded into the room, stunned into silence for a long, long moment. Bella had dumped several bags of Cheetos Puffs on the floor, and she was stomping them into a fine powder. The other kids—Mia, Mason, and L.J.—were stripped down to their skivvies and rolling through the orange dust.
“They look like goddamn Oompa Loompas,” I muttered, and Tank snorted out a laugh.
“I’m just grateful Amelia is napping right now,” he hissed back.
Cam marched across the room and picked up his daughter—the obvious ringleader of this little adventure—mid-stomp. “Bella Fitz, what in the… What are you doing?”
“I yike orange. Now all my fwiends are orange,” she told him, pointing proudly.
Cam massaged the spot between his eyes with his fingertips. “Bella, look at the mess you made.”
The little girl lowered her head and looked up at her dad through her dark lashes, her angelic face one of remorse. “I sowwy, Daddy.”
He didn’t say it, but I could read the for fuck’s sake on his face. “You’re going to help clean this up. Do you understand me, young lady? ”
She nodded agreeably. “Okay, Daddy.”
“I’ll get the shop-vac,” Bode said, not even fighting his smile as he left the room.
“I’ll turn on the hose,” Ray said, following him and chuckling. “Y’all bring the kiddos outside, and I’ll spray them off.”
Charli, Tank, and Landree picked up the rest of the kids and headed toward the front of the house, leaving a trail of orange scattered along the hardwood floors of the farmhouse.
“Do you know what age they take kids for military school?” Cam asked me, exasperation written all over his face. I wasn’t sure he was entirely joking.
“I think they have to be at least three,” I said, “so you just need to survive another year and a couple months.”
“Great.”
Taking pity on him, I took his terroristic toddler into my arms. “I’ll take her outside.”
“Thanks, dude. I’ll find a broom and start on… all this.” He waved a hand wildly at the mess his daughter had caused. I was trying so hard not to laugh. The kid was a total monster, but she was cute as hell.
As I carried said monster up the hallway, I said, “You know, you’re very naughty, Miss Bella.”
She poked me in the nose with her fingertip and giggled. “Youse naughty too, Uncle Hawk.”
You got that right, kid.