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“Fuck, you should see yourself,” I said, blowing out a quick breath. I took the hand he offered and climbed to my feet. “I think you win on fucking principle. Jesus fucking Christ.”
“And you look like you’re trying out for a new job,” he stated.
“Don’t even fucking pretend like you don’t know that Lucas fucks around on the poles at the firehouse when he has spare time.”
“Oh, I have videos he doesn’t know about,” Declan told us. “I’m saving them for the perfect occasion.”
“You devious little fuck.”
“I do my best. Are you going like that today?”
“Fuck no,” I scoffed. “I’d freeze my fucking nipples off like this. I’m staying like this long enough for the family picture and then I’m fucking leaving to change.”
Declan, Raven, Genevieve, and I were getting the hell out of Cedar Harbor for the rest of Halloween. There was an annual Halloween carnival a few towns over. It was the highlight of the area. Genevieve and I had never missed a single one—except the last three years. I couldn’t resist the idea of a double date with my brother and his wife. Food, music, rides, a haunted house, a haunted corn maze, carnival games, and more.
And a pumpkin decorating contest. Maybe it was cheating to bring Raven fucking Woods to a pumpkin decorating contest, but we didn’t give a fuck.
“Those are my fucking boxers!” Declan’s sudden exclamation made us all turn.
Holy fucking shit. I should’ve stayed on the fucking ground. Finn strode in looking mighty fucking proud of himself dressed as the most obscene version of Declan any of us dared in flannel print boxer briefs—apparently Declan’s boxer briefs—an open flannel shirt with nothing underneath, work boots, and a belt with a hand ax around his waist. He even grew out a small beard for the part.
“Oh my fucking God!” Roan keeled over the countertop, laughing as he grabbed my arm for support. “What the fuck is he wearing?”
“My fucking boxers!” Declan repeated. “Where the fuck did you get my boxers?”
“I’m a lumberjack cover model.” Finn beamed.
“I don’t fucking care! You don’t steal a man’s boxers, Finn.”
“You haven’t even seen the best part,” he said.
Oh, Jesus Christ. Finn whirled on his heel to show off the back of his shirt. Roan and I lost our shit all over again. Embroidered in the shirt was the phrase, Professional Wood Handler.
“Finn!” Declan practically yelled.
“I helped him find someone to do that,” Nolan chimed in.
“Okay, look!” Sam began, announcing his presence loudly as he threw open the fucking door. “How the fuck do you wear these goddamn pants? My balls hurt, Killian. They’re all squished in there. I’m going to lose a fucking nut thanks to you.”
What a fucking entrance.
“He’s you!” Roan exclaimed, laughing hard.
“He looks like a douchebag! I don’t look like that!” I protested as I gestured to my brother. He looked like a fucking moron in pants so tight I wasn’t sure he’d get them off, a damn near see-through with a v-neck, and biker boots. A fake tattoo perfectly matched mine on his arm—definitely Raven’s work—and he had sunglasses on his head. “My shirts are never that see-through!”
“They’re that see-through,” Sam and Roan said simultaneously.
“Fuck you and fuck you,” I snapped as I pointed to each one individually.
“I’m here to win, you motherfuckers!” Lucas shouted before he ever walked through the door. We all shut the fuck up and waited, staring expectantly.
And holy fuck we weren’t prepared. At all. Lucas looked so goddamn… there wasn’t a fucking word for how he looked. He left us all speechless.
“Mom’s going to kill you,” Nolan whispered, the shock in his face breaking as he grinned like a fucking idiot.
Shit. He wasn’t wrong. Lucas took dressing up as Finn to a whole new extreme. The kid wore a white fucking apron. That was it—maybe he had on boxers under it but not that I could see. And the kicker? The apron said lick my whisk right over the kid’s goddamn dick.
“Mom’s going to fucking end you,” I agreed, but I still fucking laughed because shit, if that didn’t scream Finn, nothing did.
