Page 63 of Already Callin’ You Mine

My heart leaps, a new excitement rushing through me. I can see the flash of disappointment on Presley’s face that she wasn’t his pick, the pang that accompanies it passing through me almost as fast as she hides her own expression. More than anything, I’m excited that he’s excited about all of us hanging out.

“Let’s go, Little Man.”

I hold out my hand and he takes it right away. Smiling at Presley, I nod toward Newton Field, ready to take on the festival. This event is smaller, mostly Hickory Hills locals, created as a way to offer up something for all the people who work hard to put on Rhythm and Brews, the massive bluegrass and beer festival the town hosts over Labor Day weekend. The irony of it all is that all the same vendors who set up for Rhythm and Brews also have booths at the Fall Festival. And usually the weekly farmers’ market too. Hasn’t stopped this town from hosting it though.

“So, what’s up first?” I ask. “I know Touch-a-Truck is a must, and probably some rides, but is there anything Mom wants to make sure to see?”

“Whatever you guys want.”

I look at her, seeing past the easy smile she’s sporting. That’s not how today is going to go. I am not going to let her cater to our whims and not get what she wants.

“I want to know what you want,” I tell her, lining up for ride tickets. Whether we do rides first, last, or somewhere in between, I’ve learned over the years that getting the tickets early is key, since most people wait and the line gets out of control. “So, tell me, what is on Presley’s list of must-sees?”

Cheeks tingeing pink, she tries to look away, pulling her lips into her mouth. I continue to keep my gaze trained on her until she looks back at me, wanting her to know I’m serious. That I’m in this. That this is about her as much as it is Otis.

“I would really like to try and get some content for our stranger danger series,” she admits. “Nothing specific—I’m not going to ask you to make a speech or anything. But if I could get some crowd shots and some video that we can use as a background for some things, that would be fantastic. And if we could stop by the Veggie Patch booth, they have this chutney that I really like.”

“Done.” I nod. “How about we start with Touch-a-Truck, then Little Man and I can go hang out and watch some pumpkin chunkin’ while you get whatever footage you need, and then we can hit up the rides last? Sound like a plan, Little Man?”

I look down, expecting to see Otis standing next to me. But he’s not there.

Oh, fuck.

My heart stops. The blood in my veins turns ice-cold as sheer panic takes over. He’s gone. He was just here, holding my hand. Where did he go? How did I not realize he wasn’t holding my hand?

“Otis…” My voice is filled with fear, the jump-starting of my heart making my breath catch. “Fuck, where did he go?”

I spin around, feeling like I’m going out of my mind. I lost him. We’re barely fifteen minutes into this and I lost him. Fuck. Presley is never going to forgive me.

Tapping my shoulder, Presley points over to the Southern Brothers Brewing tent. There, in front of a very full table of beer, is Otis.

“Shit…”

“Not as easy as it looks, is it?” she gloats. Yeah, I deserve that.

I rush out of line, beelining toward the tent. I’m laser focused on my target, shouting his name so that he doesn’t move from that spot. A set of arms reaches out and picks him up, making me hold my breath all over again. Until I take a harder look and realize those arms belong to my brother.

“While I usually say it’s never too early for beer,” Milo quips, “the law says I can’t serve you for a few more years, dude.”

“I have cock porn?”

I stop dead in my tracks, my sigh of relief halted when I hear Otis’s question. Because that’s not a request I’ve heard before. Ever.

Milo’s eyes go wide, flicking over to me then back to Otis. “You want what?”

“Cock porn!”

Milo looks back to me. I shrug. The only thing I have right now is a racing heart, an overstimulated nervous system, and a heavily tested will to not laugh at Little Man’s request.

“Cock porn,” he says again, pointing farther into the tent.

“Popcorn,” Presley says, appearing behind me and fully enunciating the word. “And say please.”

“Pweeeese!”

Milo laughs, shaking his head as he turns to head behind the table to the popcorn machine, Otis still perched on his hip. “Let’s get you some popcorn. Do you want to scoop it yourself?”

I start to relax, my muscles easing as I watch Milo and Otis—the combination of their names making me smile. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the movie—the point where I don’t remember who was the puppy and who was the kitten—but I make a mental note that might be a fun one to watch as a family.