“Keep the tip up, steady, don’t yank too hard,” her dad coaches her.
“Oh my gosh, I’ve caught a fish before,” she grumbles, her teenage attitude showing.
Audrey fights the reel, muscles straining. “It’s huge!”
“It’s a log,” Davis deadpans.
“Shut up,” she snaps, eyes blazing as she glares over at him. I grin despite myself. Levi has created a monster with her. She’s as competitive as the rest of us. Stubborn and fierce. She doesn’t take shit from anyone, no matter the age.
The line splashes, a flash of silver in the sunlight breaks the surface. She shrieks in triumph, reaching down and sticking her thumb in the mouth of the bass. “Ha! What now, Uncle Davis?”
Levi whoops, and I congratulate her while Baker laughs from his spot. As I watch them, warmth tugs at the corners of something I don’t let myself feel too often. Pride, maybe. Or longing for a future I want but will never have.
Audrey holds her catch up, and we admire the large bass. Levi fishes out his phone and captures a picture.
“Auds, take that over to Davis and have him hold up the grass he’s getting off his hook,” Baker calls out as I bark out a laugh, watching Davis unravel the chunk of weeds. He flicks the middle finger.
“Aw, c’mon, Uncle Davis. Don’t be a sore loser.”
“Damn, Levi, you’re going to be batting the boys away from this one,” Baker jokes.
“Ew, boys are gross.”
Levi flings his arm over her shoulders, pulling her in for a side hug. “That’s my girl.”
“Besides, I don’t have time for boys. Not with Dad’s schedule,” Audrey grumbles as we look at her. “He has me running drills for softball and volleyball, running laps in our neighborhood, and taking a self-defense class.”
“Smart man,” Davis praises Levi. “Self-defense classes are important.”
Audrey rolls her eyes. “You would agree with him.”
Davis nods, the cop in him coming to the surface. “Who’s teaching them?”
“The dojo outside of town.”
Davis nods again, a man of few words.
“Wait till the boys hear who her uncle is.” Baker laughs, flicking his gaze to me. “The legendary Jett Riggsby.”
I flip him off without looking.
“Legendary?” Audrey asks, confusion creasing her eyebrows. “Is that code for something?”
“Trouble,” Levi answers. “Trouble finds Jett wherever he goes.”
I shrug, fingers itching for a smoke. Trouble. Legend. All other ways to say fuckup. Or at least, that’s what I was before everything happened.
“Who’s that?” Audrey asks, pointing toward one of the grass trails. Four sets of eyes turn to where she’s pointing.
Baker nudges my shoulder, a shit-eating grin pasted on his face. “Speak of the devil.”
“Huh?” Audrey asks.
“Trouble finds Jett wherever he goes, and look, there she is,” Davis answers, shaking his head.
Wren’s long, bare legs stride effortlessly over the trail, looking far too damn sexy. Each flex of muscle and gleam of sweat makes my body tighten in ways I don’t attempt to hide. Her running shorts barely cover her, riding up enough to remind me what it used to feel like when those legs locked around my hips. My gaze drags higher to where the sweat darkens the fabric at her chest as droplets travel down between her tits. Fuck, if I’m not half-hard watching her run.
“You’ve got a little,” Baker interrupts my staring and gestures to the side of his face.
