“Boys! You’re getting filthy down there. You want a hot dog? I got you ketchup and pickles.” She sets their plastic plates down on the opposite side of the girls and tries grabbing Dawson, I think, by the shoulders.
He delivers one more kick to his brother before letting her lift him up. He sits down at the table. When Dutton stands up, his tiny face is scrunched up angrily, but as soon as he plops down next to his brother, across from the girls, and notices the hot dog, he drops the attitude and starts digging in.
The sight of all the kids together fills my heart. I’ve always loved children. Recently, I’ve started getting more baby fever than ever before. I always thought I would be at least thirty before having kids, but seeing how happy Rosie and Holden are with Bonnie and Birdie makes me want to become a wife and mom much sooner.
The growing desireterrifiesme. I’ve never even had a boyfriend.
I look over at where Dallas and Rosie are setting the burger toppings, mac and cheese, and salad out on the oversize picnic table under the cluster of oak trees. Holden spent weeks clearing out the brush from underneath the trees and laying flat stones to create a patio. Then he built a twelve-person picnic table with a firepit right next to it. The wood is crackling now, filling the air with the delicious scent of wood smoke.
I walk over and find a seat next to Dallas. The guys walk out of the house to join us. Duke has a pitcher of sweet tea in one hand and the tray of corn on the cob in the other.
He plops down right next to Dallas. Her shoulders stiffen. Sam takes the space next to me, setting my glass of tea in front of me. I swallow over the lump in my throat, reaching for it.
“Thanks,” I mumble, taking a big gulp.
I can’t remember how to act normal around him. We never used to sit together like this.
Will my brothers think it’s weird? Does he not care anymore?
My internal monologue is steadily growing more panicked. Duke passes the pitcher over. Sam grabs it, topping off my glass.
“Thank you,” I mumble again.
He leans down closer to my ear. “You’re welcome, Dollface.”
My spine snaps straight. I don’t know what the hell he’s doing, sitting so close to me and whispering in my ear. My eyes survey the table to see Rosie and Holden are talking to each other, Duke is focused on annoying Dallas, and Sterling and Jo are busy making their burgers up.
Rosie looks over at me. “We should talk about what we’re doing for the holidays. My mom is coming over, and I thought we could have Thanksgiving dinner here. Sam, we’d love for you to join us.”
I take another sip of tea.
This is totally normal. He doesn’t have any family to spend it with.
“Thanks. Will there be cinnamon coffee cake at this Thanksgiving dinner?” Sam says.
A few pairs of eyes turn to me, including Sterling’s and Holden’s. Duke is wrapped up in explaining to Dallas how he thinks her twins will be outstanding bull riders one day.
Holden’s gaze narrows on Sam.
Oh no.
I shrug. “That’s not really a Thanksgiving type of food.”
“Are you okay with me being there?”
I turn to face him, confused by the question. “Of course. You can come if you want to. I’m just saying pumpkin pie would make more sense.”
His ocean eyes are sparkling with intensity. “I just really like your cinnamon coffee cake.”
I instinctively lean closer to him and drop my voice. “I know you like it. I’ll make it for you tomorrow, if you want.”
His knee presses into mine, our thighs touching halfway up to our hips. He licks his lips, eyes dipping down to mine, like he’s thinking about all the things he can’t wait to do when he gets me back to his ranch. My cheeks heat, and I clench my thighs together.
The table grows quieter, and we finally snap out of the trance we were locked in. I busy myself making a burger up, refusing to make eye contact with any of my brothers and especially Rosie.
27
SAM
