Chapter 26 Dolly
DOLLY
Every time I turn around, I feel Sam’s eyes on me. He’s supposed to be watching the twins and talking to the guys while they grill burgers out on Holden and Rosie’s patio, but his eyes keep straying back through the open back door to watch me as I help Rosie prep the side dishes.
Every time I catch him, he makes sure no one’s looking and winks at me. My stomach does a somersault every time.
I feel like I’m fourteen again, strutting past him in my bikini, trying to get his attention while Duke yells at me to stop getting in the middle of their football game.
“Did you hear what I said?” Rosie asks, startling me.
I hiss, sucking in a breath as the knife I was using to chop onions goes right through my finger. “Ouch!”
Blood immediately gushes out.
“Oh damn. Here, I have a first aid kit in the bathroom. Dallas, can you watch this pot of boiling water for me?” She grabs a wad of paper towels and hands it to me.
Dallas turns around from where she’s kissing the skinned knee of one of her twin boys and nods her head of curly blond hair. “Sure thing.”
She walks over to the stove and winces when she sees the blood dripping from my finger. “Ouch, honey, that looks bad.”
I follow my best friend down the hallway toward the master suite. The house Holden built for her isn’t super fancy, but it’s a cozy, vintage-style ranch house—exactly what she wanted.
“Put pressure on it.”
I obey, leaning back against the marble countertop of her sink. She’s rummaging around in the built-in cabinet nearby.
“So, when were you planning to spill?”
My eyes dart up to hers. She levels me with that look only sisters can interpret—the I know you’re holding out on me, but I will crack you look.
“Uh, I don’t know what you’re talking—”
She sighs loudly. “You’re hurting my feelings, Doll.”
I let my head fall back, shutting my eyes. I do need to talk about it. I need to spill it to her before I burst.
“I—”
“Oh my gosh, is that what I think it is?” She sticks her hand under my hair and tucks it behind my ear. Her eyes are twin saucers. “He gave you a hickey?”
I grab my neck, covering it. My chest flushes a deep crimson.
She whistles low, pursing her lips. “I can’t believe he did that and then brought you here, with all of them. He must have a set of iron balls.” She grabs my hand, lifting back the paper towel. She starts cleaning the deep cut, waiting for me to explain.
I take a breath before letting it all spill out.
“I—we haven’t gone all the way … yet. He started talking to me on that dating app, Soulties.
I actually don’t know when he figured out it was me.
But anyway, nothing happened until, like, two days ago.
I figured out it was him, and our messages had been really intimate for the past few weeks.
So then, we just kind of took the intimacy offline, and some things happened in person.
I told him I want to gain experience. So, he’s helping me with that.
” I inhale, feeling both better about telling her, but also anxious to hear her response. I watch her face closely.
She raises a brow. “Gain experience? You’ve been in love with him since you were, like, eleven.”
Rosie has been my sister at heart long before she married my brother. She knows me better than anyone, and she’s definitely heard me go on and on about how obsessed I am with Sam Seymour more times than either of us can recall.
I nod. “I know that, but I’m working on it. I’m getting over it—slowly. I’m getting him out of my system. I’m using him! For sex.”
I don’t even believe it when I say it, but she can tell by my face that I can’t handle any pushback right now. She nods.
“Okay, so where is he at with it? Is he just being a Good Samaritan and taking one for the team by teaching you about sex?”
I shrug. “I mean, he’s taught me about oral and fingering so far. So, I guess so, yeah.”
She scrunches her eyes together as she looks down at the wrapping job she did on my finger. “What do you mean he ‘taught’ you about oral and fingering?”
“He gave me oral, and he fingered me? What am I leaving out?”
She places the unused bandage on the counter and crosses her arms. “Did you give him anything in return, or did he finish?”
I shake my head. “Is that … bad?”
She shrugs, twisting her red hair around her finger. “No. I mean, it’s unusual, but I think it’s a good sign. Maybe you should see how long he can go without, you know, receiving any.”
“You mean, don’t do anything to him? I wanted to today, and he said no, that we didn’t have time. He thought it would be suspicious if we showed up too late.”
“It would have been. So, let him wait. You’ve waited for him to get his head out of his ass since you were eleven. He can wait a little bit.”
“I’m dying to touch him, to feel him let go for me,” I whisper, almost afraid to say it out loud.
She nods, smiling. “I know that. But you need to make him chase, just for a wee bit. Even if this is just for fun and experience.”
I groan. We start walking back out to join the group, just as Jo, Dallas’s friend, is walking down the hallway. She smiles shyly.
“Hey, Rosie. We’re looking for the cheese grater. Do you have one?”
Jo has big doe eyes and long chestnut hair. She’s a tomboy, and she never wears any makeup, but she’s naturally pretty without it. I’ve never seen her wear anything other than baggy shirts and jeans.
“Sure, I’ll help you find it. I think the twins were making ‘play’ soup with it last time I saw it.”
We walk back out behind her, just in time to see Holden walking inside with a pan piled high with steaming burgers, hot dogs, and jalapeno poppers. He’s followed closely by Duke.
“Hey, I need a haircut,” Duke says, swiping a jalapeno popper off the tray.
I fold my arms over my chest. “Good for you.”
“Please, can you cut my hair this week, my sweet sister?”
I groan. Sam walks through the open back door, and I do my best to avoid eye contact with him so I don’t turn the color of Rosie’s garden tomatoes.
He stands near Duke, taking a long swig of his Miller Lite.
No one seems to have noticed that I’m wearing his shirt, which I realized was probably a dumb move on my part as soon as we got here.
I still like the way it feels on my skin, like he’s touching me somehow.
“I guess, but not tonight.” I step behind the kitchen island to help Dallas with setting up the toppings and mixing up the special sauce for the smashburgers.
Duke grabs the barstool in front of her, sliding it out and taking a seat. I glance up to see him smirking at Dallas. I roll my eyes at him, pitying her. She’s keeping her face turned down, blatantly ignoring him as she mixes up the mayo, ketchup, Dijon mustard, and spices.
“What are you making?” he asks.
She doesn’t respond. I hand her the dill pickle relish.
She turns and smiles at me. “Thank you, Dolly.”
I nod, holding back a smile of my own. “You’re welcome.”
Duke tries again. “Dallas, what are you mixing up?”
She purses her lips, stirring the spoon even faster in the bowl. I look up at Duke and see that he’s grinning even wider now. He reaches forward, dipping his finger right into the orange sauce. With lightning-fast speed, she whips her hand out and smacks his away.
“Hey!” he protests, lifting his finger to his lips. He lets out a sensual groan. “Mmm. Damn, she can cook too?”
She rolls her eyes, moving to the other end of the island with the bowl. I shake my head at my brother.
He mouths, She’s so into me.
I mouth back, You’re delusional.
Sterling comes inside, walking over to the same end of the island where Dallas is. She peers up at him, batting her lashes.
“Hey,” she says.
He’s always been the quiet one, but he perks up when she lays her hand on his arm.
“Hey, you.”
As far as I know, their date is scheduled for tomorrow, but Rosie said they’ve been texting.
Jo swipes the barstool next to Duke, in front of Sam.
Rosie sets Bonnie’s and Birdie’s plates in front of me with a knife, and I busy myself with cutting their burger patties into tiny pieces, knowing without a word that’s what she’s asking of me.
“What’s been going on in your life lately, Jo?” Duke asks, seemingly unbothered by the exchange between Sterling and Dallas.
She shrugs. “Still working for my dad.”
“Old Harry’s, huh? Do they still do the wet T-shirt contest every week?” Duke smirks, looking over at Holden.
Rosie participated in the contest once before they officially accepted their feelings for each other. Holden gets pissed about it every time someone brings it up, but especially when that person is Duke.
Holden shoots a death glare at his younger brother.
“Yep. Harry doesn’t exactly view women as more than objects,” Jo says, her voice emotionless.
I don’t really know Jo that well, but I can’t imagine how hard it would be to be an only child, raised by a misogynistic father like Harry.
“All right, come and get it. A big thank-you to all you ladies for helping prepare the food.” Holden smacks Rosie’s butt as she walks by with milk glasses for the girls.
They have a mini pink picnic table outside for the kids that Rosie painted.
Dallas’s twin boys, Dawson and Dutton, are about a year older than Bonnie and Birdie.
They have curly blond hair like their mom and are the cutest little things I’ve ever seen after my nieces.
They’re also huge troublemakers, even as toddlers.
I can’t imagine what they will be like in a few years, when they can reach things on the kitchen counter.
They’re wrestling with each other over a toy dump truck on the ground near the picnic table.
Bonnie and Birdie are watching them cautiously, dressed in matching yellow gingham dresses that I bought for them on Etsy.
Rosie steps around the boys to give her girls the glasses of milk.
I follow her out, grinning at the adorable group as I set the plates down in front of them on the table.
“Here you go, girls. These boys are crazy, aren’t they?”
They nod in unison, eyes wide as they continue watching the show. Dallas walks out with the boys’ plates, hurrying toward us.
“Boys! You’re getting filthy down there. You want a hot dog? I got you ketchup and pickles.” She sets their plastic plates down on the opposite side of the girls and tries grabbing Dawson, I think, by the shoulders.
He delivers one more kick to his brother before letting her lift him up.
He sits down at the table. When Dutton stands up, his tiny face is scrunched up angrily, but as soon as he plops down next to his brother, across from the girls, and notices the hot dog, he drops the attitude and starts digging in.
The sight of all the kids together fills my heart.
I’ve always loved children. Recently, I’ve started getting more baby fever than ever before.
I always thought I would be at least thirty before having kids, but seeing how happy Rosie and Holden are with Bonnie and Birdie makes me want to become a wife and mom much sooner.
The growing desire terrifies me. I’ve never even had a boyfriend.
I look over at where Dallas and Rosie are setting the burger toppings, mac and cheese, and salad out on the oversize picnic table under the cluster of oak trees.
Holden spent weeks clearing out the brush from underneath the trees and laying flat stones to create a patio.
Then he built a twelve-person picnic table with a firepit right next to it.
The wood is crackling now, filling the air with the delicious scent of wood smoke.
I walk over and find a seat next to Dallas. The guys walk out of the house to join us. Duke has a pitcher of sweet tea in one hand and the tray of corn on the cob in the other.
He plops down right next to Dallas. Her shoulders stiffen. Sam takes the space next to me, setting my glass of tea in front of me. I swallow over the lump in my throat, reaching for it.
“Thanks,” I mumble, taking a big gulp.
I can’t remember how to act normal around him. We never used to sit together like this.
Will my brothers think it’s weird? Does he not care anymore?
My internal monologue is steadily growing more panicked. Duke passes the pitcher over. Sam grabs it, topping off my glass.
“Thank you,” I mumble again.
He leans down closer to my ear. “You’re welcome, Dollface.”
My spine snaps straight. I don’t know what the hell he’s doing, sitting so close to me and whispering in my ear. My eyes survey the table to see Rosie and Holden are talking to each other, Duke is focused on annoying Dallas, and Sterling and Jo are busy making their burgers up.
Rosie looks over at me. “We should talk about what we’re doing for the holidays. My mom is coming over, and I thought we could have Thanksgiving dinner here. Sam, we’d love for you to join us.”
I take another sip of tea.
This is totally normal. He doesn’t have any family to spend it with.
“Thanks. Will there be cinnamon coffee cake at this Thanksgiving dinner?” Sam says.
A few pairs of eyes turn to me, including Sterling’s and Holden’s. Duke is wrapped up in explaining to Dallas how he thinks her twins will be outstanding bull riders one day.
Holden’s gaze narrows on Sam.
Oh no.
I shrug. “That’s not really a Thanksgiving type of food.”
“Are you okay with me being there?”
I turn to face him, confused by the question. “Of course. You can come if you want to. I’m just saying pumpkin pie would make more sense.”
His ocean eyes are sparkling with intensity. “I just really like your cinnamon coffee cake.”
I instinctively lean closer to him and drop my voice. “I know you like it. I’ll make it for you tomorrow, if you want.”
His knee presses into mine, our thighs touching halfway up to our hips. He licks his lips, eyes dipping down to mine, like he’s thinking about all the things he can’t wait to do when he gets me back to his ranch. My cheeks heat, and I clench my thighs together.
The table grows quieter, and we finally snap out of the trance we were locked in. I busy myself making a burger up, refusing to make eye contact with any of my brothers and especially Rosie.