Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“We’ll come too,” Brady offers, and his dad pushes to his feet so their standing side by side.
The difference between them is stark and always makes me smile.
While Brady is built like a heavy-weight champion, wide and broad along the shoulders, tapering down into a thick, strong waist, his dad stands about five inches shorter than him, his build more that of a runner. He’s lean, and while he is very fit for his age, he looks skinny in his shirt and jeans when side by side with his son. He’s a military man with impeccable posture and his son basically has a master’s in that hot, lazy-man slouch. I have never seen Ben slouch.
Like me, Brady got his hair and eye color from his mother, though I’m tall like my dad. Genetics are fascinating, and the thought has my eyes lifting to the dark-haired baby boy on Brady’s shoulders.
He has the eyes of his mama, but his hair is the shade of his biological dad.
What if I never get the chance to see what my child would look like?
“Brady Lancaster,” Ari’s mom shouts, pulling me from my thoughts. “You be careful with my grandson up there like that.”
“Yeah, Jack the Giant, careful.” I grin. “His little legs can hardly curl around those massive delts.”
“I’ll show you giant!” he shouts back.
“Brady!” all the moms scold at once, making the rest of us laugh.
His mother sighs, shaking her head, but there’s a smile on her lips. When her attention moves back this way, her eyes pop over my shoulder. Two seconds later, she’s elbowing my mom the way I do Ari.
Both of them look to me, my mother’s sly smile making me anxious.
“What?”
She lifts a shoulder, sitting back in her chair.
“Mom!”
“You’ll have to look if you want to know, but I will say, that dessert table is looking mighty…appetizing.”
Now I glare at the pair, and they laugh harder, lifting their drinks to their lips.
Ari looks between us three, trying to put it together, when she too spots something over my shoulder. She sighs and I tense at the sound.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” I mumble, but our mothers have the ears of bats, and they lean in.
“Him?”
“Him who?”
“Are you seeing someone?”
All our nosy-ass moms fire off questions at once, eyes glittering.
But I only wait for my friend to confirm my assumption, which comes as a low, “Yep.”
Vivian squints. “He looks familiar.”
“He looks divine,” my mom mutters.
My mouth drops open with a laugh. “Mom! OMG, you guys, stop staring.”
“Why? He hasn’t.”
“Look how bold he is.” Brady’s mom smirks. “Ben was like that. Drilled me with his eyes before he drilled me with his…well.”
Everyone laughs, one even sputtering from me before I can stop it.
“You horny old bags.” I squirt them all with Deaton’s abandoned water gun, and they squeal, jumping up and moving back, gaining the attention of the others.
I smile at them and then the men in our lives, their laughter a comforting sound.
Mason calls out that the chicken is done, so we move over to grab some plates.
This is the third annual cookout the football team has hosted that we’ve been a part of, something we were told the team has been doing for decades now. It’s when the team comes together with open invites for friends and family, and we all hang out, making or bringing our fave dishes to share, potluck style.
An hour or so passes when my mom catches my eye, a gleam in hers. “Cammie, honey, let’s go get some of that homemade ice cream I see over at the dessert table.”
My eyes narrow on her and my dad chuckles, patting my head. “Help your mama get some ice cream, pumpkin.”
“And by that you mean don’t forget to bring you some back?”
My dad grins. “Perks of having a child. I no longer have to get my own shit, and I haven’t had a chance to reap the benefits of all those years of hard work in a while.”
Mason’s dad fights a laugh and my dad’s eyes crinkle in amusement at his own comment, his words finally clear in my own damn mind.
“Ugh! Dad!” I cover my ears. “Do you want me to bleach my ears?”
Payton smiles, looking between us in question, and Ari takes pity on her.
“It took them, like, five years to get pregnant, so when he says hard work…” Ari trails off, and the two of them laugh.
I fly to my feet, yanking my mother from her chair, and not only to avoid hearing about my parents’ sex life but the reminder of how hard it was for my parents to have a child when my mother is the picture of health. “Ice cream. Let’s go.”
“Oh, I’m not missing this!” Vivian jumps up, rushing to my side with a huge smile.
“Don’t forget the sprinkles!” my dad shouts.