Page 212 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
“You absolutely moaned.” Wyatt’s head is so close to pressing against mine.
The door opens again.
Bronx steps in, blinking at us. Don’t know why I keep getting a door view. It’s all the stumbling and wiggling. And right now, I wish I were facing any other direction. Bronx’s slippers are cactus-shaped, and he’s wearing nothing but briefs.
“You guys.” He beams a smile. “Hug circle.”
“No—” Wyatt starts, and I feel him ease off, but it’s too late.
Bronx gallops forward, his slippers squeaking. He launches himself into the already overstuffed hug. His entrance knocks Levi into the counter.
“Shit.”
“Mmmm,” Bronx says dreamily. “This is what the womb must’ve felt like.”
All at once, the entire group explodes apart.
“Jesus, Bronx.” Wyatt yelps, stumbling backward into a stool.
Levi lets out a strangled laugh, nearly doubled over. “Why are you like this?” He struggles to take the pan off the burner.
“I’m just honest.” Bronx itches his balls through the thin material of his briefs. “Also, I’m not convinced one of ya’ll didn’t just whisper ‘embrace me, brother’.”
We all curse, and that’s when Hope walks out of the bedroom. Her hands hold her belly, and she smiles warily at all of us. Before she can ask what we’re doing, I hug her too—gently.
“Oh. Hart. Good morning.” She stiffens under me.
“Welcome to the family, Hope. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”
For a year, the tension between us has been a silent crack running through our family. I want to mend that crack.
“Thank you,” she says.
“Alright, get off my wife.” Levi hauls me off. “He made up with Jade.”
Her eyes light up. “You did?”
I nod. “And we’re playing hooky, together. So tell our folks and town council we’re sick.”
An hour later, Jade and I are loaded in my Ma’s truck and heading into town.
I keep stealing glances at her, staring at her. I can’t believe she’s here, that we’re together, on good terms.
Plus, she is so fucking gorgeous, and I get to look without feeling the shame of wanting what I can’t have.
“You’re staring again.” She glances at me, her ponytail bouncing.
She didn’t wear her Stetson today. I miss it. But it gives me a clearer view of her hazel eyes, the soft curve of her jaw, and the delicate line of her neck—all of her right here in the open. And damn if she isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I clear my throat. “Can’t help it.”
“Is that what you’re going to tell your mama after you crash her truck?”
“Yup. I’ll own it. Tell her I was staring creepily at a Fox.”
“I bet she’ll take that real well.”
I shrug and stare out the front window again.
