Sophie shrieked.
“Bowen.” I shook my head.
“Her pants lookjust fine!” Boone called from the other end of the house. He’d flown in for the wedding and was stayingin Anna’s old room. “Trust me,” he added in a flirty tone.
“Nobody asked for your help, Ken Doll!” Sophie shot back.
Boone only laughed his cocky laugh. The man loved a challenge, and Sophie was definitely that.
The garbage disposal roared to life.
“Did you seriously just destroy my crepes?” Bowen yelled, voice an octave higher.
“D’oh.” My mouth dropped.
Jules’s mouth hung open too.
Weston’s mouth formed an O to match ours.
“That’s it!” Bowen yelled. “Your crepes are mine.”
It was mayhem after that. Carrying Weston, I jogged out to see Bowen chasing Sophie in circles around the kitchen island as she forked massive bites of crepe into her mouth. Jules slid in next to us.
“Grab her!” Bowen shouted. “She mutilated my breakfast.”
“I’m not trying to die, bro. It’s my wedding day. Plus, baby on board.” I gestured to Weston.
“Fine,” he barked. “I’ll do it myself.” Then he launched himself onto the granite countertop, slid across it, and tackled Sophie to the floor.
The paper plate of crepes flipped through the air and landed on the hardwood next to them, facedown.
“Oof.” Boone watched from across the room, arms folded, shirtless, casually leaning against the doorjamb.
“Look what you did!” Sophie smacked Bowen on the shoulder. She let out a string of words that sent Jules lunging for Weston’s ears.
Bowen, completely expressionless, picked up a crepe and jammed it into Sophie’s mouth like a plug.
She spat it out, hitting him in the face. “Y-you think I want that now?” she sputtered.
Bowen’s head metronomed from side to side. Then he shoved the crepe in his mouth, head bobbing with satisfaction as he chewed.
Sophie howled like she’d been stabbed. She dragged three fingers through the chocolate sauce on the plate and smeared it down his face.
Boone grinned as if he’d never seen anything more attractive.
Finally, Mom and Dad came running in. From the looks of their rumpled clothes and messy hair, they’d been… otherwise occupied.
Weston clapped. “Bampa he-uh.” Dad was his favorite human on earth, right behind Jules and me.
“What on earth?” Mom said.
“Clean this up!” Dad boomed, jabbing his finger at Sophie and Bowen. “Now.”
“Cwean w-wis up,” Weston said, trying to mimic him. But his bottom lip curled. He sucked in a breath.
“Uh oh,” I said.
“Here it comes,” Jules said.
