Page 17 of Forbidden King (Magnolia Falls)

“Where did you find a table this large, mate?” Coach asked my brother, and I made a conscious effort not to show my irritation.

“King made it for me when I bought the place,” River said.

“It’s a nice table.” Coach glanced over at me.

Maybe I was being a dick. I needed to try. Everyone else liked the dude.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” My gaze moved to Saylor, who smiled in response.

I could do this.

Hayes didn’t seem bothered by the guy, though I knew he’d have a comment about the Speedo later.

Coach’s hand moved to caress Saylor’s shoulder, and he kissed her cheek. There was that anger again.

Yep. I definitely still don’t like the guy.

Or his stupid fucking Speedo.

“Are you sensitive to the sun? I noticed you put your shirt on as soon as you got out of the water,” Selena said, looking up at me from where she sat beside me.

“You checking me out?” I teased, and I looked up to see Saylor watching us before she quickly looked away.

“Always.”

Yeah, I’d made a point to keep my back turned away from Saylor while my shirt had been off. And I’d covered up as soon as I got out of the water. Normally, I liked being shirtless and showing off the goods, but I had my reasons for not doing that today.

“Well, I think it’s harder for bees to sting you through your clothing,” I said, my voice light.

“I have a nephew who’s allergic to peanuts, and my sister has to carry an EpiPen with her. I get it. It’s scary when your body has a reaction to something like that.”

“Thank you. My brother’s a real cocksucker about it, and the guys always razz me. But this time of year has me a little on edge when I’m outside.” I shrugged.

“That makes sense. I hate bees, too.” She batted her lashes.

I didn’t hate bees. I feared bees.

“When do I get to get my Ride or Die tattoo, Pops?” Cutler asked, just like he had many times before.

“We’ve talked about this, buddy. You can’t get a tattoo until you’re old enough to make a decision like that.”

“But I want to match you and all my uncles.”

“You all have the same exact tattoo?” Peyton asked, setting her corn on the cob down on her plate.

“Give or take,” River said. “We each chose different fonts and styles. And of course, King went and threw a flower on his.”

Fucking River. The guy never has much to say but manages to say exactly what he shouldn’t.

“I saw that on your shoulder before you pulled your shirt back on. It’s a yellow flower, right?” Selena asked.

“It’s a weed,” Nash said over his laughter.

I rolled my eyes and reached for my beer. “Says the guy who knows nothing about flowers.”

“It’s a dandelion,” Cutler said proudly. “Uncle King told me so.”

Keeping something under wraps in this group was next to impossible. When I got the fucking tattoo, Saylor didn’t live here, and no one was the wiser. It was my thing.

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