Page 82 of Good Directions

I ignore him, pushing up out of my chair, to focus on my girl. “I am not wrong. And I’m pretty sure my undergraduate degrees in horticulture and plant pathology, plus my PhD in Plant Breeding, Genetics and Genomics, will back me up.”

“Your degrees are cute, but they don’t make you correct,” Sawyer sasses. The chorus of gasps from the family table almost breaks my concentration, but the fire in her eyes holds it. The gallop of my heart against my rib cage is possibly the most intense thing I’ve ever felt, and I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever been this turned on. If Sawyer thinks what we did this morning was hot, wait until she sees what happens when we get home. “The word pecan literally comes from the Algonquin word for all nuts requiring a stone to crack.”

“Then is a cashew not a nut? Or an almond?”

I throw my arms out wide, stepping into her. She inhales deeply, holding in the breath. And I know I’ve got her. Is she technically correct? Sure. I know this—pecans fall into the category of a drupe; but they are largely considered to be and referred to as a nut. Meaning, I’m also right.

I could be a gentleman and let her have this one. Except, I’m not about to give it to her. Not here. That wouldn’t be any fun.

Stepping into her again, I narrow my eyes, ready to drop my closing line. But Auggie cuts me off.

“Sawyer’s right. Only true nuts are hazelnuts and chestnuts. The rest, we technically eat the seeds.”

Sawyer smiles the shit-eating, know-it-all smile of someone who is fully aware that they just won by a judge’s ruling. Because my father took her side. Dirty, dirty move.

The sudden urge to kiss her bubbles up in me, her pretty pink lips taunting me as she silently gloats. Fuck me.

“Burgers are pretty much done,” she says. “Go help your mother carry the rest of dinner out.”

There’s a sparkle in her eyes, one I know is just for me, and it tugs on my heart. I nod, reaching out for her and stealing a kiss before I go, making sure she knows that I’m on to her. Little Miss Bossy Pants knows exactly how to get to me.

“Giving him hell, alright…” Hux mutters as I walk into the house, his voice fading as I turn into the kitchen, the rest of whatever he says lost into the wind.

“Mama,” I greet, taking the plate of sliced tomatoes from her.

“I like this version of you,” she tells me.

“And what version would that be?”

“Whatever one keeps Sawyer in Hickory Hills,” Margeaux says, pushing past us. “It’s nice to have another non-canine in this family.”

“It’s Dawg,” Mama and I say in unison.

“Whatever,” Margeaux calls over her shoulder playfully.

“You seem happier is all,” Mama comments.

I nod, not knowing what else to do. She’s not wrong. I am happier. A lot happier. And there is no denying that it’s all because of Sawyer.

Making my way back outside, I set the plate down on the table and park myself back down in my chair. Without wasting a second, I grab Sawyer, yanking her into my lap, and make a show of kissing her. Partly to drive home the message to my brothers that this really isn’t about a fucking bet, but mostly because I simply needed to kiss my girl.

Sawyer mewls softly, pulling back. Her cheeks are bright pink, and she can barely look me in the eye, her hair falling in her face as if she’s trying to hide behind it. “What was that for?”

“You know what picking a fight with me does to me.” I press my forehead against hers, resting it there and lowering my voice so only she can hear. “It’s almost like you did it on purpose.”

“And what if I did?”

I smile, my heart squeezing to the point it feels like it might burst. Pretty sure life doesn’t get much better than this.

“You two going to sit there and make kissy faces all afternoon or can we eat?” Jace quips.

“No one’s stopping you,” I retort.

Sawyer flicks my forehead, giving me a look like she can’t believe I just did that. I give her one back—telling her I can’t believe she can’t believe it—and we both burst into laughter.

“Am I really witnessing this?” Gus mutters, as Sawyer slides into the chair next to me.

“We’re keeping her,” Dolly whispers loudly across the table.

“Told you,” Auggie drawls, his singsongy lilt wafting through the air.

I shake my head, laughing to myself. If only it were as real as it feels.