“It’s still early, Ma. Give us time,” Shadow adds.
“Always have to open your mouth and ruin a good time, don’t you, Shadow,” Ivy says to my brother, but she doesn’t bother looking at him when he speaks. “I’m sorry about him.” She glances toward Tate as we sit. “He was dropped on his head too many times as an infant. I’m so happy to finally meet you.”
“You too,” Tate says, taking an empty glass when Ivy hands it to her.
“You’re going to need wine.”
“Wine is always a plus.” Tate smiles at my sister, lifting the glass so Ivy can fill it.
“Uncle Thumper,” Hazel says softly, giving him her pouty look. “Will you push me on the swing?”
Thumper gets up without a second thought, taking Hazel by the hand and leading her toward the swing set.
“She has him wrapped around her little finger,” Tate says to me before she takes a sip of wine.
“Girls have a way of doing that to even the toughest guys,” I tell her, and I’m totally talking about myself.
There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for any of the women in the backyard. I’d lay down my life to keep them safe. And for the first time in my entire life, I think my brothers would do the same, even for Tate.
14
TATE
One YearLater
“Maddy, we’re late!” I yell up the steps, glancing around the living room for my purse.
“One second!” she yells back.
Hazel rolls her eyes. “She’s so slow.”
I chuckle to myself, remembering a time when I was as slow as Maddy and probably annoyed the crap out of my younger brothers. But they’d never understand what being a teenage girl was like and how important appearance seemed to be during those years.
“We ready?” Wylder asks.
“Almost.”
“Maddy’s putting on her makeup,” Hazel tells him with an eye roll.
His eyebrows wrinkle together in the adorable way they do when he’s confused. “Makeup?”
“She says she has to look her best,” Hazel says as if it should make complete sense to someone like Wylder. But she hasn’t learned that boys, even older ones, don’t think like women. They’ll never understand the impossible standards we’re heldto and how we’re judged on our outsides before anyone gets to know the real us.
“She’s beautiful without all that garbage on her face.”
“Wylder, leave her be. This time is important in a girl’s life. She’s finding herself. There’s a lot of pressure on her, and I’m sure my family doesn’t even realize we’re not there yet. It’s casual. You know that.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Hazel gasps. “That’s a dollar, Dad.”
Wylder mutters a curse word, and Hazel holds up two fingers.
“Fine,” he says, reaching for his wallet and grabbing two ones from inside. “How’s she finding herself in a bottle of mascara?”
“It’s a tube,” I reply.
“What’s a tube?”
