Her excitement was so contrary to the heavy mood that had been hanging over us all week that a laugh bubbled in my chest.
Jules glanced at me, wide-eyed, likewhat in the world.
“That would be my cousin Jane.” I nodded to the blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty, whose face was pressed against the living room window.
“Shut! Up!” Belle shoved Jane out of the way, peering at us from over the back of the couch. “Ho-lyyyy… How’d Griff land her?” She said it like I’d won Miss America in a tractor raffle, while wearing overalls, with half my teeth rotted out.
“I heard that!” I hollered.
Jules went soft against my side, a giggle slipping out with her exhale.
“Belle! Get back from there!” Anna called from out of view. “Quit gawking. She’s a human being with feelings. How would you feel being stared at like you just landed in a spaceship the first time you meet your husband’s family? My word. Blue? What are we gonna do with her?”
“Dad shoulda let her on the football team,” Belle’s twin brother, Blaze, said unhelpfully, also out of view. “Put her through two-a-days and see how much energy she’s got left to act feral.”
“Seriously?” Blue growled. “You had to bring that up again. Right when she’s finally calmed down.”
“Oh, I haven’t calmed down,” Belle sassed. “I’ll never calm down about that.”
Jules had her hand over her mouth, shoulders going. “Oh my gosh,” she whispered. “They’re exactly how you described.”
I chuckled. “Told you.”
We’d reached the top of the porch stairs, but I paused, holding up a finger to hear how this ended. We watched them through the screen.
Blaze shoved his brown hair off his forehead. Looked like he’d shot up half a foot since the last time I’d seen him. His dress shirt stretched tight across his chest and arms, as if thefabric were hanging on for dear life. What were they feeding him—raw steak and protein powder intravenously?
“I’m just saying,” he drawled, loose and cocky. “You don’t see me acting like a lunatic. And I’m literally the demographic most affected by stupid-hot supermodels. I’m a red-blooded, male, teenage jock. My brain is ninety percent hormones.”
“Boy.” I pointed at him. “You might be able to throw a football better than your dad, but if I hear you talking about my wife like that again, I will kick your trash all over the football field. Don’t make me pull out my cleats.”
Jules choked on a laugh.
Blaze must’ve had a death wish because he scoffed—scoffed!—and said, “You mean those things dry-rotting in your closet? I’d like to see you try.”
I yanked the screen door open and charged in—and stopped. Jane and Belle weren’t the only ones gawking. The living room was bursting at the seams. Minus my parents and Sophie, who were at the hospital with James, and Cash, Charlie, Theo, and Liam, who were apparently MIA—every Dupree was crammed inside—waiting with bated breath.
Well, that was a good sign, at least.
Bowen was already seated next to Granny, who was kicked back in the recliner with Willow sleeping on her chest. Bowen ran a finger over Willow’s fist. And Maggie ran a finger over Bowen’s.
“Griff,” Blue said with the patience of a man who owns a Super Bowl ring. “Blaze absolutely does not throw better than me.”
“Bruh.” Blaze threw his hands up.
My beautiful, half-Italian sister-cousin, Anna, approached us, face flushed with embarrassment. Blue stepped in behind her, scratching his eyebrow.
“I’m so sorry,” Anna said quietly to Jules. “Our children are a work in progress. Clearly.”
“Not me,” Bronco muttered from his post beside Gramps, as far from the commotion as he could get. The two of them occupied the far end of a kitchen bench, dragged in for extra seating.
Anna sidestepped me to get to Jules, pulling her into a hug. “I hope they didn’t scare you off.”
“No way.” Jules laughed, hugging her back.
My lips pursed. “I see my wife has already replaced me as your favorite.”
Anna tilted her head. “Who said you were my favorite?”
