Page 67 of Playing it Country

Like a fire has been litunder my ass, I hustle back to work and tell my brother I’m leavin’ early.

28

CASE

The week has flown by, and as I bask in the warm air, I’m happy to finally have some alone time in the place I love most. The door to the greenhouse isn’t latched when I walk up, but it only takes me one step inside before I blow out a breath. Isla sits with her feet up in the wicker chair in the back, her eyes closed and her face tilted up toward the sun.

“You don’t have to worry unless you callanyof your brothers then I’ll kill you myself.”

“Have I mentioned you’re my favorite sister-in-law and you’re looking extra gorgeous today?” Her lips tip up on one side and she finally meets my gaze. “Also, all of them are on your shit list?”

“Hank is following me around like he’s not the cause of my elevated blood pressure, Sorren is trying to be stealthy but he’s also acting like he needs to map out all the exits so he can get me to the car in case of an emergency, and Otto is Otto and I will strangle him if he tries to rub my barely there belly. I already told him when they start moving around he can have five belly rubs a day, but he’s driving me nuts.”

Pulling up the ottoman, I put it in front of her and then move to the mini fridge and grab two bottles of water and hand her one.

“What about Waylon?”

She sighs. “I’m not mad at him.”

“Hey, you can’t do that.” I point my finger at her. “They will have a baby when it’s right and it will be this big celebration and we’ll shower them with love like we’re doing for you and Hank.”

“I know.”

“You cannot feel guilty about being pregnant. This is incredible and if it’s all right to say,”—I feel myself blush—“I’m real proud of you.” She smiles.

“You’re definitely my favorite right now.” Her smile is watery and I clear my throat.

“You’re always welcome in the greenhouse, but I gotta ask,”—I tilt my head in question before motioning my hand around—“what brought you here?”

She shrugs. “The flowers relax me.”

“Girl after my own heart,” I say with a hand to my chest. “Wanna try something else?”

“Like what?”

“Wanna break some stuff?”

“I…” She grins. “In fact I do.”

“Thought so.” I hold out my hand and she takes it as she stands. Grabbing a stack of old terracotta pots from under the work bench, I lead her outside to a small concrete slab that covers a dried-up well from back in the day.

“Huh, I didn’t know this was here,” she says as she looks around.

“It’s on my list to tear out, but I haven’t had the time. Now we know why.” I chuckle as I hand her the first pot and nod toward the ground.

“You’re sure?”

“Better the pot than your husband.”

“True.”

She throws the pot, and it breaks into small, satisfying pieces, if her tiny smile is any indication. She throws another one and we watch it break before she speaks.

“Your brother is panicking and I don’t know how to help him. I mean, he’s worried about me wearing high heels still even though it’s what I do and the doctor said it’sfine. And I’m over here wondering how my vagina is going to look after I pop three Hank-sized babies out.”

“Umm…”

“I’m just venting.”

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