Ellyn screams. “Not the hair!” she demands, breathless while trying to duck behind the counter.
I narrow my eyes at her, while slowly circling the counter. “Come up from there,” I insist as she’s on the other side of the kitchen island, hiding.
I hear her grunt in irritation at the same time a pathetic squirt of water lands on the kitchen counter.
“I’m out of water,” she says, peeking over the island. “Don’t shoot.”
“Is that a surrender?”
“You said we could call a time-out when either one of us needed to reload our guns.”
“I lied.” I take aim, making her squeal and duck behind the counter again.
“Ouch!” she yells out right before a thumping sound breaks our tenuous silence.
“Ellyn?!” I shout, heart hammering as I strip out of the water gun backpack and lay it on the counter to round the island to get to her. “What’s wrong? What did you— Ack!” I squeal when she squirts me directly in the face.
“Gotcha!” She jumps up, apparently happy with herself.
“That was a nasty trick!” I insist. “Here I am thinking you’re really hurt and you’re still playing a game.” I do my best to look pissed off.
Ellyn narrows her eyes on me and places one hand on her hip.
“Was it a dirty trick when you apparently lied about giving us a time-out to refill our guns?” she asks with a lifted eyebrow.
“That’s different.”
“How so?”
“Because a time-out is different— Ack!” I bark out a yell when she hits me again with a spray of water. This time directly at my crotch.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she drones. “Looks like your boxers are soaked. Time to take ’em off.”
She wiggles her eyebrows in a way that makes me chuckle. She’s so damn beautiful when she gloats like this, I can’t even pretend to be angry.
“If you wanted to get me out of my boxers, all you had to do was ask, beautiful,” I say, my voice low and sensual while I tuck my thumbs in the sides of my briefs, ready to pull them off.
“But this way was a lot more fun,” she replies, eyes on the movement of my hands.
“I suppose the—” My comeback is cut off by the beeping of the house’s alarm disengaging.
Ellyn and I lock eyes at the same time. Shock registers on her face. A second later, the front door of the house opens and a flurry of noise ensues.
“Grandpa, we're here!” twelve-year-old Parker calls out.
“Ahh!” Ellyn squeals and then runs behind me when two of my grandchildren enter the kitchen from the entryway.
They’re soon followed by all three of my sons, their wives, and the rest of my grandchildren. All except for Aiden, the oldest.
“Joel?” Micah, the oldest, says, confusion and questioning in his voice.
It takes a beat for my brain to come back online.
“What in the hell are you all doing here?”
“Oh my God!This is so mortifying,” Ellyn groans before dropping her head to my shoulder.
We’re in our bedroom, having just changed into actual clothes while the rest of my family unpacks their belongings in the rest of the house.
