“You just focus on the important part, and I’ll work out the logistics. How’s Phoenix doing these days?”
Phoenix is the horse Griffin rescued last year. He wasseverely mistreated and malnourished and had to be kept away from the others because he spooks too easily.
“He’s come a long way. I think I might be able to bring him into the main stables soon.”
I give him a quiet nod and settle back in my chair.
“How’s Callie?” he asks with a smirk.
I scrub my hand over my jaw and groan. “A goddamn temptation at every turn.”
“So why are you holding back?”
“I don’t wanna come on too strong. She’s... inexperienced.”
He takes a long pull of his beer. “And how doesshefeel about it?”
“I don’t know, man. It’s like she’s trying to goad me sometimes.”
“You just need to get out of your head. You’re overthinking things. Callie’s old enough to decide what she wants. For some reason, that seems to be you.” He lifts the top of the grill and flips Emmy’s hot dogs. “Are you sure you’re holding back for her benefit?”
“What else could it be?”
“I don't know. Maybe you actually give a shit. You don’t want to fuck it up.”
Leave it to Griffin to know exactly what I’ve been feeling and call me on it. I’ve waited so long to have her, and I’m worried that if I move too fast, it’ll scare her away.
“What’s Jaxon fucking up this time?”
Callie steps out onto the porch with the potato salad and sets it in the center of the table. My eyes widen, sending a silent signal to Griffin to keep his big mouth shut.
“Just work shit,” he says.
I nod in solidarity.
He double-clicks the tongs and turns his attention back to the grill. “I’ll have your car ready for you tomorrow.”
“Really?” She’s a little too excited for my liking. I have half a mind to pay him to fuck shit up for me. I’d be content to play Callie’s chauffeur for the rest of her damn life if I could manage it.
“Thank you,” she says. “I really appreciate it.”
“Ah, don’t mention it,” he says. “We take care of our own around here.”
I’m about to take care of that grin he’s got plastered on his ugly mug.
Callie takes the seat across from me instead of her customary spot at my side.
“I don’t bite, Callie baby.”
She gives me a sideways smile and crosses her arms over her chest. “MaybeIdo.”
Griffin snorts.
The rest of the family arrives, and soon the table is piled with barbecue ribs, grilled chicken, and several different sides. Pops takes his spot at the head of the table with Mama to his left. Wilder, Emmy, Gracie, and Liv sit opposite me with Callie at the end, and Griffin takes the spot at my side.
Pops does his customary “to good food and good women” toast, raising a beer to my mom and each of the women seated around the table, then he passes the dishes clockwise, and we fill our plates.
I can’t help but notice how seamlessly Callie fits here. She interacts with my family like she’s known them her whole life, and they respond like she’s already a part of us—a part of me. I shouldn’t be surprised. My family has always welcomed people with open arms. Ryan once had a seat here, too. He’d love Callie—hell, he might’ve tried to shoot his shot if she gave him the time of day.
