Page 79 of Good Directions

“Roll Tide!”

“It’s pronounced, Geaux Tigers!”

“What is happening in my kitchen right now?” Auggie exclaims, an exaggerated, put-on pained expression painted across his face as he walks out onto the porch, carrying a tray of burgers. The laugh bubbling up under that faked expression gives him away though.

As a lifelong, die-hard Dawgs fan, come football season he might have a very different opinion of two of his sons keeping female company with fans of other SEC teams, but right now, there’s no doubt he’s loving it. Way too much. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who instigated the moment that brought on Sawyer’s “Roll Tide” followed by Margeaux’s correction.

“Evidence that your sons should have chosen better female company?” I quip.

“You’re included in that, you know,” Jace throws back.

“I dunno,” Auggie drawls. “Despite their poor choice in teams, I vote y’all keep them. Especially you.”

He gives me a pointed look, one that there is no mistaking, pointing the grill spatula directly at me. I shrug it off, furrowing my brow and shaking my head, pretending like I have no idea what he’s getting at.

“Planning on it,” Gus comments, looking perfectly smug. Because of course he does.

As nonchalantly as possible, I glance over at the screen door, trying to catch a glimpse into the kitchen. Unfortunately, my angle sucks, and the only thing I can make out is the very edge of the long counter, blocking my view of all the beauty that is currently holed up in there.

“And you?” Auggie asks.

A pregnant pause hangs in the air, the thick summer air swirling around the group of us, a long, drawn-out moment feeling even longer before it hits me that our father is talking to me.

“What about me?”

Four pairs of eyes stare back at me, incredulous, as Hux, Jace, Gus, and Auggie all try not to smack me all at once. And I know that’s exactly what they are trying damn hard to do, because I know that look. I’ve seen it a lot in my thirty-eight years of life.

“I know you’re not that stupid, Son,” Auggie chastises. “So quit playin’ at it.”

The scrape of the screen door opening saves me from having to defend myself. At least until Ewan walks through the door.

“What’d you do now?”

“Nothing.” I shrug. “Just keeping my business my business.”

Or I’m trying to. Because Sawyer is different. And after what we shared this morning, I do plan on keeping her. How, I have no idea yet. To be honest, I need to figure out if she wants to keep me. Then attempt to figure out the details about how to make our lives line up.

“And because you’ve always respected us trying to keep our business our business, you expect us to respect that?” Hux counters.

“Yup.” Or something like that…

“Bullshit,” Jace says around a yawn.

Hux turns his attention to Jace, narrowing his eyes. “We keeping you from your nap?”

“Well, if you must know, the enemies didn’t become lovers until two a.m., Huxley,” Jace cracks, his delivery smooth and easy, like a good whiskey.

“The scary part is, you’re serious about that,” I comment.

Jace nods, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

As the family wild card, his guilty pleasure for romance novels is a well-known fact, although Jace will flat out tell you he finds zero guilt in the pleasure he takes in reading them. Nonetheless, he still likes to try to catch us off guard by throwing out tidbits about his reading habits.

“And this is why I live alone,” Ewan mutters.

“Seriously though,” Gus says, bringing the conversation back on track. Because if there was ever one of us to be serious, it’s Grumpy Gus. Although, admittedly, he’s a lot less grumpy since Margeaux came into his life. “You and Sawyer—you’re just doing this to win the bet, right?”

I sigh, shaking my head. Fucking Gus.