Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Briar
I’m replenishing the beers in the fridge because the guys have made quite a dent in them.
And in the chocolate lasagna.
And the lemon pie.
And the wine—
Okay, so the girls and I may have helped with the last three.
But the guys did their part too.
And based on the laughter that’s been growing in frequency and volume over the last few hours, things are going much better than I could have imagined.
I’ve still been peeking out the window every chance I get, though.
Like now too.
I smile as I see Colt and Dash holding court, their chairs on one side of the fire pit, Royal, Atlas, and Banks on the other.
Colt is saying something that has my brother cackling, Atlas tilting his head back and rolling his eyes up to the sky. Royal’s grin is smaller but there. And Banks is laughing full-out, nearly bent in half with it.
Like the old days.
Only in the past I would have been trying to horn in their time together, so ravenous for Colt’s attention that I’d play the part of annoying little sister.
Bugging them.
Intruding.
Now, though, I’m content to watch them together. To feel my heart settle, finally settle knowing the worst of the rift has been mended.
It’s still going to take time for Colt to find his place, going to take time for everyone to find their way back to, not what we had, but what we’ll have now because it’s not just the guys and me.
It’s the guys and me and Frankie and Maisie. And Aspen and Jade (and their bun in the oven) and Willow and Lily.
Our family has grown, changed.
Become so much better than I could have hoped for.
And speaking of family, one member of it loops her arm through mine and draws me away from the window.
“Come on, Peeping Tom,” Aspen teases, drawing me into the family room. “We’ve drawn firm battle lines between the men and women.”
“Come and sit by me,” Mrs. X says, patting the seat cushion next to her.
I don’t argue, just plunk down beside her and give thanks she only came by for dessert, thus avoiding Dash’s asshole behavior at dinner.
And the punch he threw.
Because I watched.
Of course I did.
I may have grit my teeth and let the “boys be boys” (this meaning letting them get out their anger and frustration in the most idiotic way possible), but I watched.
Dash didn’t hold back with the punch.
And…Colt barely even moved.
I press my thighs together, a ripple of desire flowing through me. Because Colt barely flinched. Because Colt is big and strong and I really like it when he uses all of that big and strong for my benefit. Because Colt may still be healing but he’s a man through and through and—
“That boy may have the nicest booty on him of all the boys.”
I blink, head swiveling toward Mrs. X.
She’s clutching her glass of wine and tapping her chin, as though deep in thought about booties and the men they belong to.
Or maybe the women, I think, my lips turning up as I snag my own glass of wine and take a sip.
“Well,” Aspen says, “I happen to think that Banks’s”—she grins and winks at me—“booty is the best of all the men’s booties.”
Willow smirks but joins in. “Are you denigrating my man’s booty?”
Jade rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the slight tinge of pink on her cheeks. “Are we seriously talking about the men’s butts?”
“Nope.” Mrs. X drinks deeply. “We’re talking about booties. Discussing booties of the opposite sex is far less creepy than talking about your young men’s butts.”
“Is it though?” Willow asks, earning a sharp look from Mrs. X.
“I’ll take one thousand for I’m Glad Frankie is Asleep, Alex,” I say dryly, earning my own sharp look from our adopted grandmother.
“You think I would talk about booties when my sweet little granddaughter is awake?”
“Why do I suddenly have the urge to cover Maisie’s ears,” Aspen mutters, slowly rocking her sleeping daughter in her arms.
“Because booties may invade her dreams?”
That kind of snark usually comes from Lily (but she’s not in town). Or me. Or Willow. Or Aspen.
From Jade, though, especially when paired with a mischievous smile, it has us all freezing in place.
Then Mrs. X grins. “Pregnancy hormones are good for you.” A wink. “For the record, your Royal’s booty is also very nice.”
Jade rolls her eyes, her cheeks pinkening further, but she doesn’t bite.
Aspen does, glancing over at me. “Should we call Lily and loop her in on booty ranking?” Her lips quirk. “Because I will fight to the death on the fact that my man’s booty is the best booty of them all.”
“Them’s fighting words,” Willow teases.
But Jade surprises us again.
Because she already has her phone out and has dialed Lily.
Something we discover when I hear the tell-tale tone of the video call connecting and turn to see Lily’s gorgeous face popping up on the screen.
She holds up her own glass of wine.
“Please tell me that’s from Oak Ridge.”
Mrs. X pfts. “As if we’d drink anything else now that your man has made it clear he’s close with a billionaire winemaker.”
Jade passes her phone to Willow so the other woman can more effectively point the video at sweet, gorgeous Maisie. “Jean-Michel also owns the hockey team, the Oakland Eagles, Mrs. X.”
She perks up. “He plays hockey?”
“Played,” Lily says through the phone. “Apparently, he had an injury and went into the wine business instead.” She blows kisses at Maisie, even though the infant has no clue she’s there.
But Maisie is irresistible.
And God, I want another baby.
I freeze, that insane thought plastered across a billboard in my mind.
It’s far too soon to think about babies. Colt and I are just figuring out our lives together, and Frankie is only now settling in. Plus, my daughter is barely used to sharing the spotlight with Maisie.
A baby would be a disaster.
Thank God Colt and I have been using protection ever since that first night.
“I bet that this Jean-Michel has a nice booty too,” Mrs. X says. “Seeing how he played hockey too.”
“See!” Aspen cries triumphantly, making Maisie jerk in her hold. “I told you my man has the best booty of them all.”
There’s movement behind her and my lips turn up.
Before I can warn her, Banks leans close.
“You like my booty, little spitfire?”
Her cheeks flare pink and she opens her mouth to retort, but Banks just leans a little more forward, kisses her soundly, then tugs Maisie out of her arms. “Less booty talk,” he teases, “and more going home to show me your booty.”
Mrs. X downs her wine, sets the empty glass on the coffee table. “I guess I’m sleeping with my earplugs in tonight.”
I still, amusement bubbling up in my chest, but I lose my hold on it when my eyes connect with Lily’s on the phone screen.
Then we both start laughing.
And Willow and Jade join in.
The guys, having followed Banks slowly enough to miss all booty talk look at us like we’re nuts.
But it doesn’t take long for Mrs. X to fill them in and for a debate about booties to commence as they pack up their things and snag the leftovers I set aside for them.
There’s no consensus by the time they hit the door and drive away.
I still have my opinion, though.
So maybe that’s why when Colt closes and locks the door then turns to face me, I drag my eyes down his body and say,
“You gonna show me that booty, honey?”