Chapter 24
twenty-four
. . .
Axel
Rafe
I think I saw Bridger shed a tear at Family Day when Melody won the best camper award.
Bridger
Fuck you. It was allergies.
Easton
What are you allergic to?
Bridger
Cheerful people.
Archer
It’s okay to say that you were emotional about her winning that award. Hell, I cried on my fancy shitter after we shopped for school clothes for kindergarten.
It takes a real man to admit how he’s feeling.
Clark
So, how are you feeling, Axel? Wren leaves in a few weeks.
I’m proud of her. We’ll figure it out.
Rafe
You’ve got two new guys starting next week, right? You’ll get them trained and that will make it so you can be gone more often.
Yep.
It was going to be tough. There was no way around it.
I was busier than ever, and even hiring two new guys did not mean I could be gone for days on end.
My name was on these trailers, and though I could cut back on orders moving forward, the next six months were already absolutely swamped with custom orders.
Bridger
She might be gone for two years? How does this work?
We’re going to figure it out. Right now, I’m just trying to keep her from panicking about it. So don’t bring it up at Sunday dinner. I can tell she’s anxious about it.
Archer
Easton is going to be bummed when she leaves, because she’s definitely brought a new edge to the Chad-Six.
Rafe
She puts the rest of us to shame.
Easton
Speak for yourself. I’m damn good.
Clark
You’re good, brother, but she’s better.
Easton
I’d make a hockey joke, but since you didn’t make it to the finals, I feel like that would be a dick thing to do.
I think reminding him that he didn’t make it to the finals is a dick thing to do.
Clark
Yep. You’re a dick. End of story.
Rafe
Speaking of dicks, I shaved my pubes, and now they’ve grown in like sharp little needles.
Bridger
Is this conversation actually happening?
Rafe
Yes. This is very real, and I’m having issues.
Dude, we discussed this. I told you to trim it.
Rafe
I read an article that it’s nicer for your partner if you just shave that shit off.
Archer
And now I’m guessing that your partner is getting stabbed by sharp little needles. What are her thoughts about this.
Rafe
She’s not happy. She made me wear briefs to have sex last night.
Bridger
Someone please make it stop.
Easton
How do you have sex with briefs on? What am I missing? Don’t you need your dick to have sex?
Rafe
There’s that secret door, asshole.
Clark
You leave the bedroom?
Archer
I believe he means the opening in his briefs.
Ahhhh… we’re calling that the secret door? I thought it was a fly.
Bridger
Correct. Its main use was to make taking a piss easier, unless you’re Rafe and you shave your johnson.
Rafe
I didn’t shave my johnson. I shaved my pubes, you dicklicker.
This is a lot of dick talk for early in the morning.
Archer
Agreed. Can we move on? Put some ointment on it and learn from your mistakes.
Rafe
I’m just giving you a heads-up. It may affect my pickleball game.
Clark
Does one need pubes to play pickleball?
Rafe
I’ve got razor burn. Lulu said that I went in the wrong direction.
Bridger
For fuck’s sake.
Easton
There’s a direction for pubic hair?
Do you mean like if you’re driving on a road and you’ve got to decide if you turn right or left?
Archer
Maybe you need a compass. LOL. Go east after you clear out one side and then head south.
Bridger
What the fuck are we talking about. The balls are south. Stay away from those.
Easton
I’ve got to get to work. Rafe, bring your shaved pickleballs and your best game tonight. See you there.
Rafe
There’s no sympathy in this family.
Bridger
Go sit on your fancy shitter and cool off your groin, assmunch. There’s your sympathy.
“Something funny?” Wren asked as she walked into the warehouse.
“You don’t want to know.” I chuckled at the ridiculous conversation I’d just had.
She shifted on her feet and tucked her hair behind her ear, a tell that something was the matter.
I set my sander down and moved closer. “What’s up?”
“My dad called.” She cleared her throat. “He wants us to have dinner with him and Chrissy. I know he’s been an asshole, and it’s awkward—but I’m leaving soon, and I feel like I should try to make things better with him, you know?”
“I get it. He’s your father.”
“I know you aren’t a huge fan, but I don’t want to go alone.” She shrugged. “I despise Chrissy, and I will probably say something I shouldn’t.”
“Baby, I’ve got you. Of course I’ll go with you.”
She blew out a breath. “Okay, thank you. I know it won’t be like Sunday dinner at your aunt and uncle’s, but I’m sure it will be entertaining in a completely different way.”
I tugged her against me. “Hey, you’re willing to participate in pickleball with the Chadwicks—I can do dinner with your father and Chrissy.”
She chuckled. “I love pickleball with the Chadwicks. It’s my new favorite activity. How will you all survive without me?”
“I don’t fucking know,” I said, trying to keep my voice light but feeling the reality of her question.
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me, because there was nothing really that either of us could say.
It was the Rosewood River Country Club Pickleball Championships, but for my cousin Easton, it may as well have been the Olympic finals.
Wren and I were paired up, and then Easton and Rafe and Clark and Bridger were playing on teams together.
My brother Archer was here with Melody to cheer us on.
Henley, Lulu, Emilia, and Eloise were happy to sit on the sidelines with their martinis.
My parents and my aunt and uncle were also here, and thankfully this time of evening offered a little reprieve from the summer heat.
“We’ve got to all be at our best if we want to defend our title. The Wilcox brothers are out for blood,” Easton said. “And don’t count out the Millennial Bastards, they’re young and hungry.”
Rafe bellowed out in laughter. “It’s the Millennial Baddies.”
Easton glared at Rafe. “Are you fucking with me at a time when we should be focused?”
“Brother, I’m always fucking with you.” Rafe smirked. “Relax. We’ve got this.”
Easton rolled his eyes before turning to Wren. “You get it. I’m counting on you to lead your team.”
Lead her team?
“Um, are you referring to the team of two? Her and me?” I asked over my laughter.
“Yes. See, this is all fun and games to you. You’re laughing, and I need someone who is taking this seriously to lead each team.”
“There’s no laughing in pickleball, remember?” Rafe said, oozing sarcasm.
“Let’s just say that I’ll be leading our team,” Easton said with a smirk.
“Clark, you’re in charge of keeping the grump from losing his temper.”
“You do know that the people you’re talking about can hear you, right?” Bridger hissed.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about. Lose the attitude, B.”
Bridger flipped him the bird, just as the whistle blew and we all made our way out to the assigned courts.
Wren did a few quick stretches, and the girls were all whistling and cheering for her. She waved before stepping closer. “So these are the Wilcox brothers, and you think they’re our biggest competition of the day?”
“They definitely hate us more than any other team,” I said with a laugh. I’d played them many times, won more than lost, but they were good, no doubt about it.
“I see you brought in a ringer, or maybe she’s just supposed to distract us with those long, sexy legs?” Barry Wilcox said, and a deep growl left my throat.
This motherfucker was barking up the wrong tree.
“Ahhh… I see misogyny is not dead,” Wren said as she bounced the ball a few times. “Just know that these long, sexy legs are also very capable of kicking you in the balls.”
Barry and Steven both laughed.
“And she’s a firecracker, too,” Steven said.
“She claims she can kick a ball, but can she hit one with her paddle?” Barry taunted.
I knew Wren well enough to know she wouldn’t find this funny.
“I guess we’re about to find out, aren’t we?” She got in position. “Zero, zero, start.”
And she fired a ball at Barry, nailing him in the upper thigh because he didn’t move quick enough to get out of the way.
“The fuck!” he howled.
“You’re supposed to hit the ball, not stop it with your leg.” She chuckled.
She turned to me, we tapped paddles, and I winked at her.
They finally returned a serve after she’d scored four points, and they’d definitely quieted down. Wren was focused, her long hair pulled back in a ponytail, as she hustled around the court.
The next forty minutes were heated, but the Wilcox brothers never made another sexist comment again, and we managed to win all three games.
“Wait, aren’t you the famous horse rider?” Steven asked as we walked off the courts to get some water.
“She’s the best in the world, actually,” I said proudly, and Wren acted completely unfazed.
“Well, that’s not fair,” Barry grumped as Easton walked over to us. “You brought a professional athlete to the championships?”
“She’s only been playing with us for a few weeks. And Clark is also a professional athlete,” Easton said as he crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s no rule that says they can’t play.”
“Yeah, but Clark isn’t as good as she is,” Steven said, laughing.
“Hey, asshole, I can hear you.” Clark walked over to refill his water bottle.
“Listen, I wouldn’t want to have to face you on the ice. But on the pickleball court, we’re fairly matched. This one is next level.” Barry flicked his thumb at Wren.
“‘This one’ has a name.”
“Her name is Wren Waterstone,” Lulu shouted from the table a few feet away. “Think about that name every time you see that big bruise on your leg, Barry!”
“You Chadwicks are a handful,” he said before walking away.
“Okay, we got three wins in the bag. Let’s get ready for round two,” Easton said as we all guzzled water.
“Just another friendly pickleball game with the Chadwicks,” I whispered in Wren’s ear.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” She smiled up at me.
I couldn’t agree more.