Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
W arrick didn’t hide his smirk as Dylan frowned. Warrick was having a blast and so far he was proving himself worthy of Cassidy.
“Spoons,” Dylan simply said as they stopped at a table full of spoons. “Take a spoon and kill the dummy in under ten seconds. Whoever has the better kill wins,” he explained to Warrick and Landon as they stood, ready to compete.
“A spoon?” Warrick asked, picking up a spoon and turning to the group. “Whose idea was this one?”
“Mine.” Miles crossed his arms over his chest. “A spoon is a very versatile weapon.”
“How will it be determined if it’s a kill?” Warrick asked as Landon flipped the spoon in his hand as if he were twirling a knife on his palm.
“I’ll decide,” Dylan smirked.
Warrick hit the dummy, bringing the straw man covered in burlap down to the ground. He fisted the spoon and stabbed his way across the throat. If he were doing this to win, he couldn’t give Dylan any room to say the straw dummy could live.
“Time!” Dylan shouted. “Doesn’t look like a kill shot to me. Landon’s the winner.”
Warrick stood up, reached down, and pulled off the entire head of the strawman. “Are you sure about that?”
Cy chuckled. Dylan stared. Dalton and Grant gave a golf clap.
“Point Warrick. Although, I will say Landon’s talents with a spoon are impressive, both inside and outside of the kitchen,” Dalton said as Warrick nodded in agreement. Landon was deadly with a spoon. Warrick would hate to see what he could do with a knife.
“Why didn’t you do knives?” Warrick asked Landon as they walked to the next station.
“Because, that’s my station, bro .” Jace picked up a knife and examined it. There was no playing around. These were not rubber knives. They were tactical knives.
“Rules?” Warrick wasn’t going to mess around here. He didn’t want to kill his soon-to-be brother-in-law. He quite liked the doctor.
“First to draw blood or to get the other opponent to acknowledge defeat. No killing or serious injury allowed,” Dylan explained.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Warrick asked Jace. “I won’t back down.”
“Lucky for you it won’t take long. I don’t back down either. You forget I work with knives daily.” Jace had a good hold on the knife. Not too tight, not too loose. Okay, it looked like Cassidy’s brother at least knew how to use it.
“Let’s go then.” Warrick stood watching as Jace got into a fighter’s position. Warrick had never knowingly walked into a knife fight. They usually were a surprise attack or he had to attack silently. This was actually a little awkward.
Jace made the first move. Warrick swatted the attack off. Warrick watched Jace. Jace watched Warrick. Then they began to circle each other. Jace attacked again. Metal against metal clinked together as they both moved so quickly he was sure those watching were having trouble seeing whose knife was where.
“You’re good, Jace.”
“Complimenting me won’t get you the win,” Jace said as they both went on the attack.
“No, but knife fights are never fair, and they’re never just two people standing around. Only field experience tells you that.” Warrick dropped down and swung out his straight leg, sweeping Jace’s feet out from under him and causing him to fall backward. Warrick didn’t wait for him to hit the ground. He leaped on Jace before he even landed. Warrick had his knife to Jace’s throat the second his ass hit the ground.
“Shit,” Jace cursed. “I concede. Warrick gets the point.” Warrick stood up and held out his hand for Jace.
“Damn good job,” Warrick told him as Jace took his hand and Warrick pulled him up. “I wasn’t expecting that from a doctor.”
“Miles taught us all how to use a knife in a fight.”
“He did a good job. Very impressive. Did you all learn how to do these stations?” Warrick asked as they walked toward a pasture.
“Yes,” Jace answered. “Hand-to-hand, shooting, knives, lie detector testing, we learned it all.”
“Just you guys? Or is that where Cassidy also learned?” Warrick asked as they stopped at the fence.
“All of us. Hell, Cassidy is better at all this than I am and maybe even better than Dylan,” Jace told him.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Dylan said with a proud smile for his sister.
“I would,” Uncle Cy said. “I should know. I trained her myself. That’s how she knows the old-school ways of spying and fighting just as well as these new modern tactics.”
“And when we have kids, you’ll teach them also?” Warrick asked, loving the idea of his kids running around a farm and being taught how to protect themselves and others while being encouraged with love and by family.
Dylan growled. Pierce looked ecstatic.
“It’s kind of our thing,” Marshall told him. “Are you saying you want kids?”
“I’m thinking five,” Warrick answered and he would have sworn he heard something along the lines of a scream coming from the house about dying happy. Surely, he didn’t hear that. He couldn’t even see the house from here.
“You’ve talked about children? Does that mean you’ve talked about marriage?” Cade asked as everyone leaned closer to hear his answer.
“Yes, we have. I never knew I could love someone like this. Now, who else do I need to beat so I can prove I’m good enough to marry Cassidy.”
“This won’t take long,” Porter said with a grin. “Just about eight seconds. If you want to win Cassidy’s heart.”
“Oh, I already have her heart. I’m here to win approval from all of you so I can propose. Now, what do I need to do?”
“Ever ridden a horse?” Porter asked as he motioned for Warrick to climb onto the fence. A horse was let loose from the barn and was bucking in the small pasture.
“Shit. That’s no polo pony,” Warrick muttered. “Eight seconds? How hard can that be?”
Porter and Parker laughed as they worked together to get the horse to the rail. “Go!” Porter yelled, and Warrick went. He hopped onto the horse as Porter and Parker grabbed the fence and pulled themselves up and out of the way.
Warrick had never felt fear like this and Parker and Porter did this for fun? Warrick held on tight to the saddle horn and squeezed his legs as tight as he could. He thought about leaning forward, but then the horse reared up and he almost tumbled off the back of the horse. The horse bucked again and Warrick’s bones shuddered under the impact of the whip turns and jumps. Warrick was flung forward by a strong buck. He felt himself falling, but he reached out and grabbed onto anything he could, which was the horse’s mane and neck. He closed his eyes and hung on for dear life.
“Time!” Warrick heard someone yell, but he couldn’t let go. If he let go, he’d be trampled by a very pissed off horse.
“Let go!” Porter yelled.
“No!”
“Just let go. We got you.”
“You’re trying to kill me.”
“Yeah, but we don’t want you hurting the horse. Just let go!” Porter called back.
Warrick took a deep breath and exhaled it all before pushing off the horse the best he could. The ground came fast and hard as he hit it. He heard the horse whinny, and braced for the hooves to hit him, but that never came.
Warrick cracked open his eyes to see Cy and Cade getting the horse into a chute that led to the barn and Porter and Parker grinning down at him.
“You two are nuts for doing that shit.”
They grinned wider. “Cool, isn’t it?” Porter asked.
“When can I do it again?” Warrick asked and Porter held out his hand.
“Anytime you want. I can’t believe you hung on,” Porter told them. “I’ve never seen anyone hang from a horse’s neck before.”
Everything hurt. His bones were still vibrating from the impact and he was surprised he could walk in a straight line.
“Let’s go,” Dylan snapped. “Pistols.”
Warrick glanced down at his hand, still shaking from adrenaline. “How about hand-to-hand?”
“Nope,” Dylan said with a smirk. “I’m saving the best for last. And by best, I mean me.”
“More like you’re trying to wear me down so I’m an easier target. What, scared to take me on when I’m a hundred percent?”
Dylan’s grin dropped. Score a point for Warrick.
Jackson took the pistol next to him. “Aim at the farthest target. Let’s skip this amateur crap,” he said of the closer targets.
“Fine.” Warrick took some deep breaths and channeled his adrenaline into focus.
“On the count of three you both empty your clips,” Dylan instructed. “One. Two. Three.”
Gunfire sounded. Jackson was going rhythmically. One. Pause. Two. Pause. And so on. Warrick fired with no pause. He didn’t pause in real life and he wasn’t going to pause now. He set down his gun and waited for Jackson to finish. Dylan pressed the button for the targets to be brought close.
“Sloppy,” Jackson told him, smugly. “You should always take your time to ensure you hit the target.”
“No need. I hit the target.”
Jackson was still smug as Dalton and Grant pulled the targets and started comparing them. Jackson began to glance at them, but Warrick didn’t. He was already looking at the next event. Axes.
“Warrick wins by one point. It was close. But Jackson, this one shot was on the line,” Dalton said, holding up the two targets.
Jackson cursed. Warrick picked up an axe.
“That shooting is almost as good as mine,” Cade said, clearly impressed. “Where did you learn how to do that?”
“Norway. Colton, you up? We have twenty minutes to finish before Marcy says we don’t get dessert.”
That snapped the men to full attention. Learning to fight in Norway, so what? Hearing you might miss dessert, full steam ahead.
Colton picked up the axe, turned, and threw it. It spun in the air and landed with a thunk right in the bullseye.
Warrick had to admit, he’d feel better if they were fighting with the axes over throwing them. This one was going to be tricky. Warrick took his time, lined up, felt the weight of the axe, and then threw it.
Thunk .
It sunk into the bullseye.
“Who won?” Dylan asked as Dalton and Grant approached the two targets.
They conversed, brought out a measuring tape, and then conversed again before turning to the group.
“It’s a draw,” Dalton announced. “They both hit the exact same spot.”
“I’ll take it,” Warrick said as he reached out to shake Colton’s hand. “Hell of a throw.” He hurried away before they could make him throw again. He was positive about shooting, but he’d take the draw here as a win. “Next?”
“Rifle with Parker,” Dylan announced.
Thank goodness. An easy one. Parker was a good shot, but distance shooting was one of Warrick’s strengths. It was right up there with pistols and knives. Hand-to-hand was his best event. He and Parker fired at the distance targets. Parker was great. Way above average, but Warrick was exceptional and won the point.
“Phew,” Marshall said with a whistle. “You’re almost as good as our sister, Paige.”
“Almost?” Warrick asked with a smirk as they made their way to the last event.
“Don’t get cocky,” Cole warned him. “My wife will outshoot everyone here with one hand behind her back. It’s very humbling while also being incredibly sexy.”
“I know who to call when I need a sharpshooter then. I’m guessing Dylan’s up with hand-to-hand now?” Warrick asked as Dylan stripped off his shirt.
“Rules are simple. Don’t kill the other person. That’s all,” Dylan said, popping his fingers.
Warrick pulled off his athletic shirt and cracked his neck. If they were impressed with his rifle shooting, wait until they see what he could do with no-holds-barred fighting.
Dylan didn’t wait. He attacked. Warrick was ready. Punches, elbows, knees, and legs were thrown. They went punch for punch, hit for hit. Dylan was exceptional at hand-to-hand, but so was Warrick.
Warrick would get a punch to the kidneys in, and Dylan would get one in. Dylan would sweep Warrick’s legs and he’d fall. But then Warrick would sweep Dylan’s legs, and then they were both on the ground, wrestling for control—control that neither could obtain.
Suddenly hands were grabbing Warrick from behind and he saw people were dragging Dylan back too.
“We’re calling it,” Cy told them. “It’s a draw.”
“No!” Warrick and Dylan shouted.
“There has to be a way to determine who is toughest,” Dylan said.
“We have five minutes until dinner,” Aiden pointed out. “I don’t want to miss dessert.”
“I know a way,” Jackson said with a grin. “Only the strongest, physically and mentally, will survive.”
“I’m in,” Warrick answered instantly.
“Me too,” Dylan said.
“Follow me, gentlemen.” Jackson walked closer to the house and then opened a gate and into a pasture. He stopped by a large water trough in the empty pasture near the house. “Take off your shoes and if you’re wearing underwear, take off your pants.”
“Are we doing an ice bath?” Dylan asked.
“Nope.” Jackson reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle. “We’re doing Aniyah’s sex oil.”
“Oh shit,” Dylan cursed, clearly fearful.
“I’m not having sex with my soon-to-be brother-in-law or any of the rest of you,” Warrick said, staring at the oil.
“Um, no,” Jackson said with a smirk. “All you have to do is put it on your dick and see who can keep out of the water the longest.”
“Bro,” Warrick said, glancing at Dylan. “Why are you so pale? You okay?”
“No, and you won’t be either.”
“It’s just some oil. What’s the big deal?” Warrick asked as Jackson showed him the bottle. “Warming oil to enhance your pleasure,” he read. “Sounds nice. Let’s do it.”
Jackson squirted some into Warrick’s hand as he and Dylan stood side by side in their boxer briefs. “Your hand is shaking,” Warrick taunted Dylan as Jackson put some oil in Dylan’s hand.
“Rules,” Jackson said, getting Warrick and Dylan’s attention. “On three, you both coat yourself with the oil for five seconds, then show your hand so we know you used it. The water will bring you relief. The first person to jump in the water loses. The last person standing is the winner. Understand?” Warrick and Dylan nodded. “One, two, three!”
Warrick shoved his hand under his boxers and coated himself with the oil. “Hands up!” Jackson called and Warrick raised his hand.
“So, we’re just going to stand here until someone gets so bored they jump in the water?” Warrick asked.
No one answered him. Instead, everyone was staring slack jawed at them. Jackson had his legs crossed. Parker broke out in a sweat and looked ready to faint.
“I don’t see what the big deal... oh shit!” Warrick yelled right when Dylan began to do this breathing thing that Warrick had seen women in labor do. “ Oh my GOD. Why is it burning? ”
Parker and Jackson were gripping each other as if they were living the experience with Dylan and Warrick. Warrick glanced at Dylan and sweat was pouring down his face. Dylan looked at Warrick and he realized they were both crying.
“You can make it stop if you just get in the water,” Dylan said between gritted teeth.
“Never. I love the feel of my dick on fire.” Warrick didn’t love it, but he wasn’t going to let Dylan win. He’d never felt a heat so intense. It was so intense he glanced at his crotch to make sure there weren’t flames coming out of his underwear.
“Two minutes until dinner,” Matt called out.
“They won’t last two minutes, trust me,” Parker told them.
Sweat was now rolling into Warrick’s eyes as if he were in a shower.
“Shit,” Dylan cursed. “The sweat is causing it to run down my balls. I have balls of fire!” Dylan started bouncing from foot to foot as he cursed over and over again.
Warrick closed his eyes and pictured Cassidy naked on the bed. Even that didn’t help. A penis took center stage in his mind with flames shooting out of the tip. And that’s when he felt it. A bead of sweat rolled down onto his balls. It started as a little tingle and then it felt as if a dragon and blowing fire on them.
“Get in the water!” Warrick yelled at Dylan.
“No! You get in the water.”
“Never! I love the feel of my balls on fire and my dick is a flaming sword. I’m freaking medieval.” Warrick took a deep breath and refused to move while Dylan began bouncing more and more. “You know, if you keep moving like that, the sweat might roll further down.”
“Further down to...” Dylan stopped bouncing, his hands reached behind him and grabbed his ass. “My ass!”
Dylan leaped into the trough with a shriek so loud Warrick could hear the women running from the house. The second Dylan hit the water, Warrick was leaping in behind him.
The sweet relief of the cold water and the shared torment had Dylan and Warrick leaning against each other, shoulder to shoulder, as they shook and cried tears of relief.
“ This is what y’all do?” Cassidy asked in disgust. Warrick couldn’t even open his eyes to look at her.
“I thought you all did hard things,” Abby muttered. “I’m so disappointed in you Dylan. I listened all week about how much of a badass you are.”
“We do harder things than soaking in a tub crying. What, were you forced to share your feelings?” Sophie asked.
The women shook their heads and turned to walk away.
“Dinner’s ready if you think you can pull yourself together,” Piper called out over her shoulder.
“I’m scared to look to see if my dick is still there,” Dylan finally said, reaching down under the water. “Oh, thank God. It’s there.”
Warrick reached down and similarly thanked God.
“You have my permission, blessing, whatever you want to call it to marry my sister. I’d be honored to be your brother,” Dylan told him.
“Thank you. I promise to always love, cherish, support, and protect Cassidy. But I have a serious question. Why isn’t Aniyah in jail? She gave me a bottle of that stuff! She’s trying to kill me.”
“She says it tingles and DeAndre loves it,” Jackson told them as the guys stood up, letting the water fall from them as they climbed out of the trough.
“No way. He’s lying. That’s all there is to it. I’ve never experienced pain like that before. Waterboard me, put bamboo up my nails, attach my balls to a car battery. I will do all of that before I touch that oil again,” Warrick told them.
“Don’t worry,” Jace told him. “You’re family now and we look out for family. We won’t let Aniyah get near you with any more oils.”
Warrick slipped on his pants gingerly and pulled on his shirt as talk turned to praise and welcome. “I know I talked shit about you all,” Warrick told them, “but there’s no one else I rather have by my side during a fight. I never felt as if I’d find a place to belong. But here, with you all, I do. Thank you.”
“Thank you, son,” Pierce said, shaking his hand. “Because you just won me the father of the biggest badass in-law’s trophy! In. Your. Face!” Pierce pointed at each of his brothers, turned, and gave them all the middle finger as he ran to the house shouting to Tammy to tell her the good news.
“Sorry, Miles,” Walker said, slinging his arm over his father-in-law’s shoulders.
“Don’t be sorry. I still win because you gave me my granddaughter Carolina and she’s going to kick Audrey’s ass,” he said of Piper and Aiden’s daughter.
“The race for the biggest badass grandpa is on,” Cy cheered, turning to Matt and Carter. “Get Dawson and Ryder ready!”
The uncles raced ahead to the house and Warrick looked at the men walking with him. “Are you sure you want to sign up for this?” Nash asked.
“Oh yeah. I have to be there when Cricket brings home a man,” Warrick said as Dylan, Jace, and Aiden all grumbled.
Colton burst out laughing. “And y’all were so bad with Cassidy. Now you have Warrick and by the time Cricket brings someone home, many of Cricket’s little nephews will also be older. The poor kid doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Hey, can you show me how you shot like that?” Jackson asked, changing the subject as the guys began to work together instead of against Warrick.
As they entered the house, Warrick felt part of the family. He had brothers, cousins, and even a little sister who threw herself into his arms as soon as he walked into the house. Warrick swore his heart was burning with love just as much as his dick had been with the oil. Only this time, it was with nothing but happiness.