Chapter Sixteen
Adam wiped his hands on his jeans, suddenly so nervous he could hardly stand it.
They had all packed up, including a giant wild pig and a heap of dogs, and they were at Landon’s place.
It was the same as it had been—ramshackle and worn down, crazy and dilapidated—and his brothers were going to have a cat. He’d stand up to them this time, though. No one was going to make Laurel feel bad. She was Landon’s sister, and this was her home. That was something to be damned proud of.
“I’ll send Sister out to meet y’all. I’m gon’ figure where to put the pig.”
When Landon said pig it came out peg. It was adorable.
Before he could argue that they could help, Landon was gone, leaving him on the porch with Bri and Chrissy and a half dozen Cajuns he didn’t know. Beau wasn’t even there to translate.
A tiny, tiny storm cloud in a pair of cut-offs and a button-down tied under her breasts came out onto the porch and headed right for Chrissy, finger pointed. “I swear to God, you’d better never hurt him so bad again, he’s a good man and…”
She stopped, her head tilting. “You ain’t Adam.” She stared at Bri, lips twisted. “You ain’t neither.”
Impressive. Must be something about her and Landon being twins, knowing which brother was which.
“I’m Adam,” he told her, waiting for her to rain all over him. “I plan to be real good to him.”
“Good. He’s a good man and I’ll hoodoo your dick into the dirt, you make him hurt.”
Ow. His balls shrank a little. He grinned, though, liking her spunk. “No hoodoo.”
“For now.” Laurel reached up, hugged him hard. “Welcome to the family, honey.”
“Thank you.” She felt so tiny, so much more fragile than her brother. Over her head, he could see Chris staring at her, eyes wide. Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Bri opened his mouth and he glared. Not now. Not one fucking word. He wasn’t going to have it. It must have gotten through, because Brian’s mouth closed without anything coming out.
“So, y’all come on in, have a beer. There’s lots of snacks. I got onion dip and shrimps and all.”
“There will be a pig in a few hours,” Beau said, finally coming to join them. The Cajun slapped Chris on the back. “Look like you seen a ghost.”
“Huh?” Chris never glanced away from Laurel. Not once. His baby brother looked like he’d been poleaxed.
“You’re staring, bro.” Adam waved a hand in front of Chris’s face.
“Uh-huh.” Chris never moved.
Beau just cracked up. “Taggarts and Cajuns.”
Adam hooted. “Oh, God, that’s funny. She’s too young for you, Chris.”
Chris arched an eyebrow. “Pot.”
“Kettle.”
Landon popped out the door. “Sister, you invite them in?”
“I did. They’re busy being fools about something. Texans don’t speak English like we do, frère.”
“Ah. Oui, oui, but they sure is fine.” Landon waved at them. “Come on in and see the house. Mr. Beau, Sam says he’s got y’all set up under the dining fly.”
Beau nodded and headed off, and Adam prodded his brothers inside the house, which looked far better inside than it did out. Even if all the dogs followed them, tripping over ears.
The place was clean and homey, if more than a little piecemeal. The floors were old planks, covered by bright, spotless rag rugs. Fans blew the air around, keeping the heat from the stove bearable. The cabinets didn’t match, the counters were bright green, and there were snacks and drinks set out everywhere.
