Page 19 of Daddies' Holiday Toy
5
LIAM
The sound of Reece’s laughter fills the truck cab loud enough to cut through the rattling heater and the steady swipe of the wipers against the windshield.
Jack’s in the passenger seat, retelling some half-disastrous story about Carson’s last boys’ trip that I had to bail on last minute that apparently involved too much whiskey, a broken canoe, andsomeone—likely Reece—ending up pants-less in a snowbank.
“You’re an idiot,” I say without looking over, but there’s no heat to it.
There never is.
My hands are loose on the wheel, though my shoulders aren’t nearly as relaxed as I want them to be.
The road’s starting to narrow the farther we climb up the mountain, the tires crunching over packed snow as the truck winds around another sharp corner before it flattens out again.
In town, it had been all clear skies, but apparently whatever storm was supposed to sweep over us is hitting up here first.
It wasn’t supposed to snow at all today according to the forecast.
But the second we started up the winding road, the soft, quarter-sized flakes decided to descend from the sky.
Figures.
It wouldn’t be a boys’ trip without a little bit of weather drama.
“You sure we’re not gonna get stuck in this crap?” I ask, my eyes flicking to the rearview where Reece’s grin is still plastered across his face.
His breath fogs up the glass behind him as he leans forward on the bench, his tall body practically getting crushed between the front seats.
“Relax,” Jack says, giving me a sidelong glance from the passenger seat. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you? Thought you were ready to unplug and unwind for the weekend.”
I am,I nearly bite back.
Instead, I grunt, shifting my hands slightly on the wheel to get a better hold of it.
My knuckles are stiff from both the cold and keeping the wheels on the road.
“Having a nice, relaxing weekend with friends is one thing…sliding off the side of a mountain is another. I’m not really interested in playingAndes Flight Disastersimulator, thanks.”
I can practically feel Jack’s smirk as he’s already halfway through composing whatever sarcastic comeback is about to come spilling out of his mouth for that little gem.
But before he can, his phone chimes from where it is on the dashboard.
He glances at the caller ID after grabbing it, brows lifting. “It’s Carson.”
“Put him on speaker,” I say.
Jack swipes to answer and taps the screen.
“Hey, man. We’re about halfway up. You already there?”
Carson’s voice crackles through the speaker, signal coming in and out for a second before settling.
“Yeah, about that…I’m gonna be late.”
“Late?” Reece pipes up from the back. “How late? Don’t say you’re already planning on ditching us.”
“Something in town came up. I’ve got some business to settle before I get up there. But it shouldn’t take me too long. I’ll be there before you know it, so no getting drunk without me.”
