I grinned when Boone took his seat and continued talking. “I think that she’s taken to wearing skimpier and skimpier clothing each time she comes over, too. Last week, I walked in and saw her wearing a sundress that barely covered her vagina.”
“He’s not lying, either,” Nettie pointed out. “But she makes a mean apple cobbler.”
As I listened to the group continue to talk throughout the night, my gaze strayed over and over again to the copper-colored mop of hair that was sticking up all which ways but the right one.
He took his hat off. Put it back on. Set it on the table. Moved it to his knee.
It was like the man always had to be moving in some way.
“He has ADHD.”
I blinked and looked over to Sorcha. “What?”
“Denver,” Sorcha said.
“I don’t…”
“You were watching him move.” She shrugged. “He has no chill. Literally, some part of him is always moving. That’s part of why he works so much. The idea of him being idle is overwhelming to him. You should’ve seen him in school. Never in my life heard my mother raise her voice unless it came to Denver and his schooling.”
I smiled.
Margery Winsor was a beautiful soul.
I was sure that Denver tried her patience. Especially seeing as he was the surprise of a lifetime.
“How many years between you and Denver are there?” Nettie asked the question that was on the tip of my tongue.
I couldn’t give too much away, though.
They didn’t need to know just how obsessed with Denver that I was.
“Ten years.” Sorcha grinned. “Twenty-five between him and Sawyer.”
“How old was your mother when she had him?” another asked.
“In her late fifties.” Sorcha chuckled. “Mom thought she was going through menopause. Color us all surprised when she went to the doctor to get checked out for a kidney stone, and she came home with another baby.” Sorcha raised her hand and cupped Major’s jaw. “Denver kicked Mom and Dad’s ass. I feel like he spent just as much time at Sawyer’s and my place as he did at home. It was a good thing that we were all on the same property.”
Major nuzzled at his wife’s cheek. “We got our learning curve taken care of with Denver. By the time our own kids came, we were naturals and didn’t fuck them up like we did Denver.”
I snickered.
“What are y’all even talking about right now?” Hux, the second hottest Dixie Warden, asked as he came to a stop behind the broken chair Boone had once been sitting in.
“How pretty you look with your new tattoo,” Boone lied.
Hux looked at his arm where I could now see a fresh tattoo peeking out from beneath his shirt sleeve. “It is pretty badass, isn’t it?”
“It’s a lamp.”
“It’s a stained-glass window,” Hux countered Boone’s assumption.
“It’s pretty,” I said. “I like it.”
Hux’s grin was wicked as he said, “Glad someone at this table has some taste.”
“I never said it wasn’t pretty,” Sorcha pointed out.
“You said that I looked like a bad coloring book when I showed you it yesterday.”
