As we get to Puss N Boots, Avery gets Grandpa Joe set up at a table with Mom and Etta, who is entertaining him with fiery banter before he can even get his cane out of the way of the crowd. I’m not sure who is going to win if Etta and Joe start telling dirty jokes, but Mom will be a fair and impartial judge if the need arises.
People sit at the various tables, chatting and catching up, and a few people claim the dartboard and pool tables, starting friendly games.
As soon as Charlene sees the crowd, she climbs on the bar. “Listen up!” she yells, waiting for the hum to die down. When it doesn’t happen fast enough, she places her fingers in her mouth and whistles loudly. That gets everyone’s attention instantly.
“Listen! There’re too many people in here for me to run around like a chicken with my head cut off, so there will be no waitressing tonight. If you want something, you’d best bring your happy ass up to the bar to order. And you can take it back to your table yourself. The only place I’m going is Tay Tay’s window, the cash register, and the bathroom because the good Lord knows I can’t go more than an hour without needing to piss after my babies did a number on my bladder. Understand?”
A buzz of agreement works through the group, and they go back to talking among themselves.
“Good. Now, who’s next?” Charlene asks, hopping down from the bar.
I go behind the bar to make drinks for our table, and check in with Charlene. “Want me to grab my apron?”
She shakes her head, giving me a grateful smile. “Not for now. I’m okay as long as everybody does what I say. And if they don’t, I guess they’ll go hungry, now won’t they?” She draws an invisible tear down her cheek with a finger, feigning sadness.
I laugh at her attitude and slip a twenty into her apron despite getting my own drinks. Charlene grabs my hand, stopping me. “Thanks, Hazel.”
I squeeze her hand, understanding that this crowd has the potential to stress her out, but also to tip her enough to make her entire month in a few hours.
“Let me know if you change your mind. All tips are yours either way,” I promise. I gather up the handles of the beer mugs, able to carry five in each hand but luckily not needing that many for our little group.
Wyatt’s legs are stretched out, making him look about ten feet tall and sexy as hell as he looks over to his brother. “Did you know about the historical thing all along?”
“No, I was going through the files over and over,” Winston says, accepting a beer from me. “I hoped to find something, but when I did, Jed came into the office. He knew something was up, so I flat-out asked him about it, just to be sure he knew, and he totally did. He didn’t care, told me to keep my mouth shut. He actually said, and I quote, ‘You owe me.’ And that was when I knew exactly what I had to do.”
Wyatt takes his own beer, shaking his head sadly. “I’m sorry, man. What’re you going to do now? Because I’m pretty sure Jed is already working on your termination papers.”
“Get a new job, I guess,” he says with a shrug he can’t possibly fully feel yet. “I can be an architect for another developer or freelance maybe?”
“What about the wedding expenses?” Wyatt asks as he sits up, silently pulling me into his lap. I’m confused what they’re talking about but don’t interrupt the moment the brothers are having.
Winston smirks cockily. “What about them?”
“He’s going to hold them over your head,” Wyatt says, and across the table, Avery does a double take. Obviously, she didn’t know either.
But Winston laughs as he pats Avery’s hand soothingly. “He can try. Seriously, what the fuck can he do at this point? He said he wanted to ‘give’ it to us, and now he has. It’s all paid for and done. I didn’t ask him to and he didn’t loan the money to me. As far as I’m concerned, we’ll send him a very nice thank-you note, and call it good.”
“Well . . . maybe we’ll return the food processor he gave us,” Avery quips, grinning.
“No way,” Winston snaps. “That thing has thirteen speeds. Thir-teen.”
We all laugh, and Wren joins us, coming back from the bathroom.
“What’d I miss?” she asks, taking a beer and sitting down.
Wyatt suddenly backhands Winston’s arm, making Wren laugh. “Holy fuck, man! You’re right. It’s no big deal once it’s done, and Jed can only hold it over you if you let him. Maybe my way of coping wasn’t the best option, though I’m not sure I would’ve been able to take on Jed the way you just did when I was younger. I’m proud of you, bro.”
Winston looks surprised but pleased by the praise from Wyatt. “Proud of you too.”
“What about me?” Wren demands. “Someone needs to be proud of me!”
Winston and Wyatt look at each other and then back to her. “Definitely proud of you,” Wyatt says.
“And scared to death too,” Winston finishes.
Wren preens. “As it should be.”
Jesse joins us, throwing his hat into the conversation, apparently overhearing enough to tell Wren, “You don’t look too scary to me.”
Wren pins him with an icy glare. “Have we met?”
Jesse looks mock hurt, pouting. “At the wedding? You thought I was one of the caterers?”
Wren cringes. “Oh yeah, sorry again.”
“Jesse Sullivan, Hazel’s brother,” he says, offering his hand.
Wren shakes. “Wren Ford.”
Jesse smirks in that hot-boy way, leaning in as though confiding when he says, “I know, sweetie. Everyone knows who you are.”
Wren doesn’t look sure whether she likes that or not, but Jesse captures her in conversation. That’s probably not a good idea, mostly for Jesse’s sake, because Wren is way out of his league, but if he wants to shoot his shot, I won’t cockblock him.
I turn to my man, running my fingers through his hair. “You want to get out of here?”
Wyatt sighs, his thumb tracing along the back of my hand. I know his answer before he speaks, and a pit opens up in my belly. “I feel like I need to go home and check on Dad. I’m afraid he’ll have drunk himself unconscious again after that shitcircus.”
Not as bad as I feared, not as good as I hoped. I’ll take it. “I understand. Go, take care of your family.”
“I’ll go with you,” Winston says, starting to get up, but Wyatt holds out a hand.
“Enjoy the evening with your bride. I got this, whether it’s blame or credit, though we both know which it’s going to be.”
Wren, still involved with whatever Jesse is saying, pauses to throw over her shoulder, “I’m not volunteering. I’ve done my daughterly duty more times than any woman should. If anyone has to see Dad in his undershirt and BVDs tonight, it should be you.”
That decided, Wyatt kisses me thoroughly, definitely lifting my spirits, fist bumps Winston, and heads toward the door after telling him to watch over Wren. As if she needs protection from my brother. On second thought . . . I narrow my eyes, staring at Jesse and Wren shrewdly. I’ll be looking out for both of them.
On the other hand, I hate seeing Wyatt leave with the wedding over and the hearing done. I feel like our time is short, and I know my heart is going to break into a million pieces if he goes.
