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Hurt him and die was definitely less intimidating when accompanied by hormonal tears and midnight ice cream. Unfortunately, Dalton had walked in and found us there, and he’d nearly laid me flat out before Arden had explained that it was all good.
Ever since then, we’d been surprisingly easy with each other.
“Strong agree,” I said. “I must be pretty fucking special if he upgraded from you to me. Like damn, girl.”
She let out a laugh and shoved me. “Exactly. That makes you better than the GOAT. Like king of the GOATs.”
“God of the GOATs,” I said, puffing out my chest.
Grace came back from the bathroom in time to hear that and fake gag. “Lord save us from cocky assholes. Where’s Bett?”
“Kitchen,” I said. “He might need help, and while you’re in there, will you tell him to bring back a sweet treat, please?”
“Already did,” Bett said, handing Dalton his beer before handing me my refilled water bottle and a brownie on a napkin. He sat down even closer to me than before—his body pressed against mine from kneecap to shoulder—and then cracked open a flavored sparkling water for himself.
“The GOAT god lost a chin-up bet today,” Bett told Arden fake-casually.
Grace cackled smugly, and Arden absolutely lost it, her laughs turning into giggles until tears escaped her eyes. Dalton sat forward as if ready to fetch Kleenex at a moment’s notice if needed… which wouldn’t have been the first time.
I stared at Bett. We’d agreed to keep that private.
“You’re dead to me,” I warned.
He grinned so wide I wanted to tackle him and kiss every inch of his body. “What? It’s true.” He shrugged. “You challenged me and lost. Maybe next time, don’t make a physical fitness bet with a college athlete.”
I poked him in the ribs. “I’m a college athlete, too, you ass.”
Dalton snorted his beer. “M’kay. If you say so, buddy.”
“Just because cage fighting’s not officially sanctioned,” I began.
Arden hiccuped, Bett snickered, and Wanda looked on affectionately before saying, “Does it count if your cage fighting days are over? I don’t think so.”
Dalton snickered, which made Wanda smile even bigger. She was very proud of the fact that she’d gotten Dalton to promise to close the Pit as her only condition for helping Arden.
We all knew she’d have helped Arden anyway, but Dalton was more than happy to free up his Friday nights so he could head up the highway to McCaysville to “check on Arden and the baby, just in case.”
Watching Dalton let the Pit go and embrace helping the rest of us reminded me how dedicated he’d always been to family. To solving problems. I could tell he felt guilty for not listening to me the night of Bett’s fight, but I also understood how I hadn’t trusted him with the truth of my feelings for Bett until it was too late to stop it.
Having Dalton around these past couple of weeks while we helped Arden settle in had reminded me of how much luckier than Bett I was and how I wanted to share my own family with him so he’d never feel lacking.
Bett glanced over at the television, his smile dimming temporarily. The tally showed McNeely in first place by a few points.
I reached over and put my arm around him, pulling him even closer before pressing a kiss to his hair and murmuring, “Baby, Fulton County isn’t in yet. Most of the bigger population areas haven’t reported.”
“No, I know, I just…”
Arden stared at the screen. “It just sucks seeing his name there,” she supplied.
“Exactly,” Bett said.
Dalton slapped his knees and stood. “Alright, someone promised me a game of Nerts, and I’m collecting. Whisbey, Gracie, let’s go.”
Arden groaned and pushed off the sofa. “Fine. But don’t cry when you lose again. It’s embarrassing.”
Wanda watched the three of them move to the kitchen table, Dalton strategically placing Arden in a seat that didn’t face the television. The volume was already down very low, but Wanda turned and tilted her head at the screen as if asking whether she should turn it off altogether.
I shook my head and mouthed, Leave it.
