Ivy lifted her palm. “I can’t help it all the boys in this house eat more than some restaurants serve in an entire day.”
“That’s what happens when you shack up with a football player,” Drew teased on his way to the coffee pot.
“You did the same thing,” she pointed out.
“Guess we have good taste,” he said, looking over his shoulder to wink at me.
Ivy passed me the creamer, and I carried it over to add some to Drew’s mug.
“There you are!” Rimmel said, coming through the archway leading into the dining room. “We’re almost out of pancakes, so you better go eat.”
Dark wisps of hair that had come loose from her messy bun floated out around her head as she carried an empty bowl to the sink.
“The kids already demolished all the fruit,” she informed just as her foot caught in the hem of her too-long pants and she pitched forward. The bowl went flying, hitting against the stone counter and splattering whatever was left.
I scooped her up before she could land in a heap, cradling her slight form in a bridal-style hold. She looked up at me, sheepish, hair in her face, and smudges on her glasses.
“I’ve come to accept that I’m never going to be graceful,” she said, the tip of her nose pink.
I laughed. “It only took forty years to admit it, huh?”
She gasped. “How dare you, Trent? I amnotforty!”
“Forty is one of them F-words,” Braeden announced from the archway. “Just ask Drew. He knows. How’s them old bones, bro?”
“You say that as if you aren’t about to fall over the hill too,” Drew muttered around his mug.
“Forty isn’t old,” I said. “It’s just eighteen with twenty-two years of experience.”
“I’m curious.” B wondered. “Do you lie in bed at night and think up comebacks to defend your man?”
“I have better things to do in bed at night. I feel for Ivy if you don’t know that.”
The sound of coffee spewing followed by sputtering had me turning. Drew was coughing now, his eyes watering.
“You better get him a napkin,” Rimmel said.
I walked over to the island and gestured for her to grab one since, you know, my arms were already full. Then I carried her over so she could hand it to Drew.
“That’s my sister,” he said, voice strained.
“Sisters before misters.” I tossed out one of B’s ancient lines.
Braeden appeared at my elbow. “Now see here. Your sister doesn’t have any complaints.”
“There are children present,” Rimmel hissed.
B scoffed. “They’re in the next room eating us out of house and home.”
“No kid wants to hear about their parents’ bedroom activity.” Rimmel’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t want to hear about it either.”
A tap on my shoulder had me turning.
Romeo looked between his wife and me, then raised his eyebrow.
“She almost killed herself,” I explained. “It’s safer this way.”
“Are you causing trouble in here, smalls?”
