Gene laughed.
Eh, it wasn’t like he was wrong.
Not entirely.
“Thanks, Mom. Here, I forgot how to say no to drugs after all those campaigns in school. I’ll go find a frying pan and an egg to wrap the campaign up.”
As soon as he said it, Callen snorted, and he couldn’t help himself. It appeared Ethan had found someone who could handle his snark and temper.
Who saw that coming?
When Ethan looked at him, giving him a look, Callen shrugged.
“What? He’s funnier than you, and I got the reference. Deal with it.”
Instead of getting spicy, Ethan just winked at his man and put his hand on his thigh to connect them.
Gene relaxed.
Apparently, his man was calm.
“I’m a regular comedian,” Gene teased.
Yeah, he was, but that being said, Ethan warned his partner. Oh, he wished he was kidding, but he wasn’t.
“If the suspicious Native wearing Shaman robes offers you leafy shit from a pouch, you have to say no. Don’t believe the spearmint label. It’s most definitely not.”
Gene was amused.
“You sound like you know that for a fact.”
Oh, one of them knew better than the other.
Callen raised his hand.
“That would be me. He was smarter growing up. He told me that granddad mislabeled shit so we wouldn’t steal his peyote to get high. Don’t smoke spearmint. It’s useless.”
Gene didn’t say anything, but he was absolutely curious about the family dynamics here.
Ethan was very much like his brother—whether he wanted to believe it or not.
They had the same sense of humor.
They had the same love for each other.
Oh, and they had the same good looks.
Callen was an incredibly handsome Native man.
“Good to know,” Gene admitted.
The whole time they were talking, Timothy was watching his grandson.
“So, EJ, what brings you back?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “Did you and Gene need a little getaway?”
Yeah…
Ethan wasn’t going there for two reasons.
