On second thought, forget the drink. I don’t have the energy to smile. And I definitely don’t have the energy to talk to anyone.
I make an abrupt U-turn. “Have a great evening, Tammy.” Then I’m gone.
People are always giving me shit for being grumpy and uptight. I wouldn’t say I’m either of those. I’m focused. While the rest of my brothers are still out there making the most of their twenties and having fun in their lives, I recently just hit thirty.I’ve got responsibilities.
I own a business. I’ve been married and divorced. I have an eight-year-old son depending on me.
So yeah, if I’m a little uptight, I’d say I have every reason to be.
I decide to forgo the party animals in the yard and go off in search of Cameron.
I find my little boy in the kitchen with his cousin, Jagger. Their faces, hands, and shirts are covered in a sticky, blue popsicle mess, and it’s definitely past their bedtime. Yet still, they’re trying to sweet-talk the person concealed by the refrigerator door into giving them more popsicles.
The boys don’t notice me yet, as I watch them from the hallway.I’m ready to storm in there and lay down the law. But my plan screeches to a halt when the fridge door closes, revealing a woman in skin-tight, curve-kissing ripped jeans. She spins away from the refrigerator with a blue popsicle clutched in each hand.
The boys squeal in unison, snatching the frozen treats away from her. “Thank you, Jules,” they singsong as they eagerly rip the crinkly cellophane packaging open.
Jules plants her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed on the mischievous boys. “Are you guys sure it’s okay to eat popsicles at this time of the night? It’s kind of late…” Her skeptical gaze bounces back and forth between the sugar-happy duo.
“Yeah, for sure!” Jagger replies, lying through his teeth. “Mimi wouldn’t mind.”
“Andmymom lets me eat popsicles for dinner all the time,” Cameron piles on with a syrupy smile.
“We’re totally allowed.” Jagger nods with enthusiasm.
When I’ve had enough of their lies, I step into the kitchen. “Boys!” I bark, making them startle.
They jump like first-time burglars who just got caught red-handed.
“So you think you’re slick, conning the lady, huh?” I stare them both down.
Cameron’s gaze hits the floor. “Sorry, Dad.”
Jagger pouts and gives me puppy dog eyes.“We were hungry, Uncle Lincoln.”
I’m not falling for it.
“Hand them over.” I stick a palm out in their direction.
Jules urgently steps in front of the rascals, not hesitating to be their personal shield. “You’re going to take the popsicles away from them?” She narrows her eyes at me like I’m some kind of monster.
Whoa. Her eyes—they’re pretty.
This is the first time I’ve ever been this close to Jules, and I’ve never seen that shade of brown. Like honey swirled into cognac. Warm and sweet with flecks of spicy indignation.
I stand there like a dumbstruck fool until her dark eyebrow hikes upward in challenge. It’s only then that my focus snaps back to the situation at hand.
“Yes. I’m taking the popsicles away from them,” I confirm without apology.
“But they’ve already opened them,” Jules argues on their behalf. She lowers her voice. “You can’t take popsicles away fromchildren, Lincoln. That’s mean. You might as well let them finish.”
Her eyes…I’m downright disoriented.
I search my skull for a rebuttal. I’m in the middle of an argument here. I know I’m supposed to fight back. But regainingmy bearings is impossible when I’m still fixated on figuring out the color of her eyes.
“Fine. You boys can finish the popsicles,” I hear myself saying, all while unable to rip my stare away from Jules’s.
Cameron flings his arms up in victory. Jagger lets out a shrill whoop of celebration.
