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“This is a little over-the-top.” Elle shook her head.

“What are your intentions?” Tobey’s question was less inquiring and more accusative.

“Seriously?!” Elle blustered, wielding the bottle of wine in the air. “Intentions? Is this Victorian England? Does he need to ask permission to court me?”

“I do like the idea of that.” Pete grinned.

Elle rolled her eyes.

“Lady Elle, we must defend your honor,” Jerome proclaimed, his smirking face betraying the not seriousness of the situation.

“Men, take out your weapons.”Pete called, hoisting up a yellow and red Super Soaker from behind his back, aiming it at Clayton and Elle.

Jerome pulled a neon green water gun from his back, posing like the opening credits of a James Bond film as Tobey revealed his own Nerf water gun. With devious smiles, each man pointed their weapon at Clayton.

“Sorry man, you’re a friend… But she’s family,” Jerome said, playfully apologetic.

Elle’s chest tugged at that.

“At the count of three,” Pete bellowed, his finger settling on the trigger.

Clayton stepped in front of Elle. “Take Fitz. Behind me,” he commanded, handing the pug’s leash to Elle.

As Pete counted off, Clayton put his arms out, guarding Elle and Fitz. Elle crouched behind Clayton’s back to brace for the water’s impact.

“Fire!”

The first spray cut through the distance between the four men. The echoing slap of the water hitting Clayton’s chest and face and Fitz’s barks filled Elle’s ears. Crouched behind him, she struggled to stay on her haunches as deep belly laughs rioted through her. Clayton was such a good sport to play along.

“Sorry son, we needed you to understand what consequences there’d be,” Pete chuckled, as the water siege subsided.

“You three,” Elle lovingly chided, as she stepped from behind Clayton, holding a wiggling Fitz.

Water drizzled down Clayton’s face onto his shirt. Elle frowned at his drenched upper half until she saw the bemused expression on his face. Butterflies bounced in her belly at his sweet indulgence of Uncle Pete, Tobey, and Jerome. The four men who, during the post-wedding brunch, declared they’d catch her if she fell, reissuing that promise in the silliest of ways. The three doing battle with their water pistols, while Clayton acted as her human shield. In the ridiculousness was a deep sincerity that made Elle want to kiss all four.

“Sorry, we had to mess with you,” Pete said as he handed a towel to Clayton. “Truthfully, if I didn’t already know what a good man you are, her choosing you would be proof enough.I’mhappy for the two of you.” He smiled, placing an approving hand on Clayton’s shoulder.

“What on earth?” Janet shrilled, stepping through the front door onto the porch. “What have you done?”

“Initiated Clayton into the family,” Pete smirked.

Janet tossed her hands up and then stormed back inside.

“Oh, mom’s mad,” Jerome gulped as he started walking up the stairs toward the front door.

“Yeah, but we’ll blame it on Dad,” Tobey snarked.

“I’m sorry,” Elle winced. “They can be a little much.”

“You have to be a little much when there’s so much at stake.”

Those words flipped like a gymnast in her belly. What was at stake? His heart? Hers? Them? Perhaps, everything.

“I may swoon,” she jested.

“I’ll catch you, so swoon away.” His lips met hers.

TWENTY-SEVEN

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