“Not cocky,” Boston said easily. “Accurate.”
A couple of Law’s brothers nearby laughed.
Lincoln stood near the row of grills, beer in hand, poking at a line of hot dogs with a pair of tongs as he studied him like he’d just discovered a new sport. “So, what exactly do you do?”
Boston shrugged. “Mostly insult people and eat free food.”
“That a full-time job?”
“Trying to make it one.”
Micah rested his elbow on the table, watching the exchange with open amusement. “Don’t encourage him. He’s been talking all day.”
Boston pointed at him. “You invited me.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
Lincoln laughed and shook his head. “Man, you’re trouble.”
Boston tapped his chest. “I’ve been called worse.”
Behind them, Winter stood with one shoulder against a post, arms folded, watching the whole exchange without moving.
“Loud one,” he said finally.
Boston glanced over. “You’ve said two words all day. I’m carrying the conversation.”
Winter’s icy gaze didn’t change. “Someone has to.”
Micah lost the fight and laughed.
Lincoln tapped the grill. “See? That’s what I’m talking about. This guy’s hilarious.”
Boston gave a small bow.
Across the yard, Rip watched the whole thing with his arms crossed.
His jaw flexed once.
Boston either didn’t notice or was enjoying the attention too much to care.
Lincoln clapped him on the shoulder. “Stick near me tonight. Anyone this entertaining deserves a beer.”
Rip’s expression darkened another shade.
A sharp whistle cut across the yard.
Law’s head turned automatically toward the fireworks crates near the fence line.
The smell of charcoal and smoked ribs still hung thick in the warm evening air, music drifting from somewhere under the tents, crickets buzzing steadily from the dark woods beyond the lights. For a split second, it all felt normal.
Then he saw what the whistle had been.
One of his teenage nephews had dragged a mortar tube out of the crate and jammed it into the grass. Another teenager crouched beside him with a lighter, the rest of the younger ones hovering too close, faces bright with the reckless excitement only teenagers managed to manufacture.
Law pushed off the porch post.
