“Yeah, let’s get out of here, but I want to make one stop first.”
“Whatever you say, Bark E. Mark. Magnum saddle up—it’s beer o’clock.”
We pulled into Mom’s condo complex at six-fifteen. Miller drove. I was two beers in, and my mood was exponentially better. I clutched Jenna’s present in my hand like it was made of glass as I scoured the parking lot for her car. Mav’s truck was a few spaces over, and I spotted two new topiary bushes on the bottom steps leading to her door.
She lived in a three-story, three-bedroom condo complex on the far side of an expensive golf course with tons of amenities to keep her busy. Her unit had a single-car garage on the bottom and a neighbor on either side. The three of us all reached in our pockets for our keys, but Maverick threw open her front door and glared at us like we were kids out past curfew.
“You’re late,” he said, turning around and walking back toward the kitchen.
“And you stormed off earlier with your panties in a twist,” Magnum called, pushing past us to follow him down the hallway.
Something smelled delicious on the grill, and my stomach let out a very unappealing sound. I spotted Mom in the kitchen with an apron tied around her slim waist and a smile on her face.
“Great timing, boys. Jenna brought the recipe for Mexican Street Corn, and it smells amazing.”
Mom motioned to the far end of the kitchen, where Jenna was mixing something in a bowl—a similar apron around her shapely waist. She turned and waved to us, then picked up the bowl and passed it to Maverick with a spatula.
“Here you go, Maverick. Spread this on the corn and turn it after five minutes.”
He nodded and took the bowl, disappearing out the sliding glass door to her large deck and patio.
“Hi, I’m Jenna,” she said, reaching her hand out to Magnum. “You must be Magnum. Your mom said you were the best-looking brother.”
She turned to me with a wink as Miller shoulder-checked him and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sure you’re mistaken. I’m Miller. The handsome one. It’s okay. It happens when you’re faced with this much awesomeness up close and personal.”
Magnum stumbled backward and looked back to where I was standing with Mom, shaking her head and watching my idiot man-child brothers jostle to introduce themselves to her first. Jenna had an unreadable expression on her face, like she was about to come back with a sarcastic comment.
Miller rubbed a hand down his green Henley and wagged his eyebrows before reaching out to shake Jenna’s hand. She took it but peered around him, looking at Magnum. I stepped forward to stop him from hitting on her or making a fool of himself, but Mom put a hand on my shoulder and shook her head a fraction of an inch.
Oh. This was going to be good.
“She’s good for you, Marcus,” Mom whispered, leaning against the side of the door frame to watch Jenna mess with Miller.
“Mom—” I started, looking at her and rolling my eyes.
“You’ve been a different person this last month. Happier. More involved. Can you honestly say it’s not because of her?”
Mom pushed off the door frame and took a sip of wine, stepping forward before I could respond. I pushed whatever emotion was trying to bubble up back down and placed Jenna’s present on a side table as the color crept up Miller’s face.
“Nice to meet you, Miller, but I’m pretty sure your mom was talking about Magnum. You know, the guy with the rugged good looks named after the infamous Tom Selleck, and—” She cupped her hand around her mouth and leaned close to Miller like she was going to whisper a secret in his ear. He leaned closer and tilted his head to one side, waiting for her to finish. “Giant condoms.”
“Shit, I need a beer,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air as everyone in the kitchen burst into laughter. Jenna had her hand on her knees, and Mom turned away with her head buried on my shoulder. It felt good, laughter booming around the walls of the condo.
“Alright, Bev. I got him,” Jenna said, raising her wineglass from the counter and clinking it to hers. “Now, you owe me the story of how you named the boys.”
“Gladly, let’s take the plates to the patio and eat. Old Cam Winston is a vegan, you know. It’ll piss him off even more that we’re eating out there after we grill.”
“Mom, is this ever going to end?” I asked, grabbing the napkins and silverware she had stacked beside the stove.
“Are you kidding, Mark? Bev told me he snuck into her garden and beheaded all of her sunflowers the other day. What kind of sick freak does that?”
“Exactly. Thank goodness I was able to make a lovely arrangement out of them, but seriously, the nerve of that man.”
Mom untied her apron, grabbed the plates, and headed out to the porch. Jenna opened the fridge and passed me a beer with a smile, then patted me on the chest and picked up a tray with all the condiments and buns for the burgers.
“Wait a minute, baby,” I said, setting my things down and taking the tray from her arms.
I pulled her further into the kitchen, out of the line of sight from the sliding glass door, and dragged her into my arms. She stiffened for a moment, then melted so sweetly for me. I threaded one hand through her hair and buried my face in her neck.
