“I think you’re beautiful. You and your shorter hair.”
I smile and step back, opening my mouth to say something about working on his game, when I hear a throat clear. Turning, I see Brady walking toward us from the side of the house. Laine is beside him, looking equal parts sheepish and reluctant.
“How was your swim?” Brady asks.
“Good,” I answer, glancing up at the sky. “We got back just in time.” As I say it, a few more drops land on my upturned face.
“Laine and I ran to the gas station for a pack of cards and the finest wine money can buy.”
Beside him, Laine holds up a bottle of white wine by the neck. “Don’t worry, guys. This isn’t two-buck chuck. This issix-buckchuck. And there’s more where that came from.” She swings a plastic bag she holds in her other hand.
“Sounds like we’re on track for a rowdy game of bullshit,” Finn says, climbing the steps and opening the door to the screened-in porch. He holds it open for Laine and me, and when Laine passes him, he informs her she need not worry about playing against me. “Lennon’s the worst at bullshit.”
I make a face. “Not true!”
“Bullshit,” he taunts.
I stick out my tongue and Laine laughs.
Finn and I get cleaned up and changed. Brady heats up the beef stew he and Finn picked up at the little grocery store on their way here. Finn doesn’t have a table yet, so we sit in a circle on the floor.
Finn pours wine into four coffee mugs and passes them out. “It’s all I thought to buy,” he says, shrugging. “Hot coffee can’t go in a glass, but everything can go in a mug.”
“Very smart.” I nod, spooning stew into my mouth.
For a minute the only sounds are spoons scraping bowls and the plunk of a coffee cup hitting the floor.
Brady’s the first to take a break from his dinner. “Okay, who’s ready to get their ass handed to them?”
Finn snorts.
Brady turns to Laine. “I’m the undisputed champ.”
Finn snorts again, this time louder and more obnoxious-sounding.
Brady ignores him. He grabs the deck of cards and slides them out. He rids the deck of the jokers and shuffles, then deals.
“Youngest goes first,” Finn says, turning to me.
I shake my head. “Not me.”
Laine pulls a card and places it on the floor in the middle. “One ace.”
Brady’s next. “Two twos.”
Now me. “One three.” I place my card on top of Brady's.
“Bullshit.”
I glare at Finn. He grins that crooked grin. I swear if this was the Wild West, that man would be an outlaw.
Frowning, I reach out and snatch the small pile on the ground. Finn tips his head back, laughing.
“How did you know?” Laine asks.
Finn shrugs. “I have a sixth sense when it comes to her.”
Laine smiles and raises her eyebrows at me.
