“I’d like that,” Porter says.
Then Waylon turns to me and rubs his hands together. “So, squirt … where’s this douchebag boss man of yours Shelby made me promise to be nice to?”
Right on cue, Shelby appears behind him and punches him square in the ribs.
“Ow!” Waylon doubles over. “What was that for?”
I hook a thumb toward Porter. “Meet my douchebag boss.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Then Waylon bursts into booming laughter. “Oh, hell,” he wheezes.
Porter chuckles beside me.
Shelby crosses her arms and shakes her head.
“You’ll never guess what I saw earlier,” she says to me.
“What?”
“Daddy and Imma Jean smooching on the back porch,” she whispers.
“No!” I gasp.
She nods. “Yes.”
“What did you say?” I ask her.
“Nothing. I turned and walked back to the barn.”
“Did they see you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I think it’s great. Albert deserves to get a little action,” Waylon quips.
Shelby scowls at him. Then she shrugs. “Yeah … he does.”
I laugh. “Daddy and Imma Jean.”
Charli comes up beside me. “Right? We’ve always suspected, but it’s weird to have confirmation.”
“Super weird,” I agree.
Bryce walks up with a piece of brisket, which he pops into his mouth before licking his fingers.
“Hey, how did you get your hands on meat?” Waylon asks.
Bryce shrugs. “Guess I’m Albert’s favorite son-in-law.”
“The hell you are,” Waylon cries, then takes off jogging toward the grill.
“You’re not his son-in-law,” Charli points out.
Bryce grins. “Only a matter of time, cowgirl.”
I watch as she melts into his side.
