Page 99 of Say I'm Yours
“Boom!” Trent yells and points in his brothers’ faces. “Beginners luck! Losers!”
We move on to the other events. Each of the three brothers got to choose two events, and then Mama thought of the tiebreaker. Every event chosen was definitely to give an advantage, only we had no idea the girls would be competing in the one obviously geared for the guys. Now, though, it was chosen by coin toss. Damn Cooper and trying to switch things up.
“Okay, final event, sweetheart.” Trent puts his hands on my shoulder. “We need to win this one.”
“A drink off? You idiots picked an event for who can take the most shots?” I can’t believe these dumbasses. “Can we redo the coin toss?”
“Nope.” Wyatt grins.
“I guess it’s a good thing we did shooting as the first event.”
He nods and beams with pride. “That was by design.”
I’m not drinking. I’m not going shot for shot with freaking Wyatt who has a hollow leg. I’ve been there, done that, got the week-long recovery to prove it. I vowed that I would never be stupid enough to attempt that again. Plus, there are other reasons.
“Well, we are going to forfeit this event.”
“What?” Trent yells. “No way. We’re winning. If we get this event, we beat Wyatt and nothing in this world makes me happier than watching him cry.”
“Nothing, huh?” I ask as I cross my arms. “Not your wife?”
Trent’s expression falls a little. “You know what I mean, darlin’.”
Yeah, that he likes watching his brother in misery. I get it. I like watching Wyatt pout too, but not enough to kill myself for it.
“Trent, I really can’t drink Wyatt under the table on a good day.”
He looks at the amber colored whiskey and then back to me. “I have an idea,” he grins and walks off.
His good ideas usually end in some kind of accident. Like the time he thought it would be easier to spray paint the bedroom instead of rolling it. He failed to tape off the places he didn’t want paint and ended up having to hire two guys to come undo what he did. Then, last week, he thought we pay too much in electric and wanted to build a wind turbine because he saw it on some Alaska survival show. After an hour of trying to get the three wooden poles to stand upright, he quit.
I’m not sure what energy he thought we were going to get from it, there’s no wind.
But, as Mama always says, men are dumb, and we can only say that because we let them continue to try asinine things.
Trent returns with another bottle of whiskey, and now I’m worried. “You don’t think the two bottles on the table are enough?”
He leans in close and hands me the bottle. “Swap that out with the one you’re sitting by, it’s not whiskey.”
“Please God tell me this isn’t your hunting pee jug,” I beg.
He bursts out laughing. “I’ll be right back!”
“Trent!” I call him back. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”
“Baby,” he grumbles. “Just drink that and fake being drunk by your third. We all know that’s about all the liquor you can handle.”
That’s not true. “Hey!”
“Gracie, do you remember the wine?”
Whatever.
He leans in and kisses my lips. “I love you no matter how much of a light weight you are.”
I smile and go for another kiss. “I’m not going to be all that light.”
He laughs and misses my hint once again. I’ve been dropping them left and right, but he is either ignoring me, or too oblivious to catch on.
