Page 69 of Tennessee Trouble

“If you want, I’ll even sing the words.”

“Declan!”

I snicker, unable to hold back. The only person in the world who could distract Mikayla in this moment is Declan. Like the extra brother we never wanted, he knows how to get under her skin like no one else on this planet.

“I say this with all the confidence of a straight man,” Brandt whispers in my ear. “That might be the best looking man I have ever seen in my life.”

Laughter rises up in me so fast I almost choke. I was not expecting that comment.

“Well, he was the poster child for Tennessee basketball for a while. Probably could have gone pro if he hadn’t ruptured his Achilles senior year.”

Clenching his teeth and sucking in a breath, Brandt makes a face like he understands the pain. I nod, not knowing what else to say. Even if I did, it wouldn’t matter, because it’s our turn to walk through the doors.

Loud music hits us as soon as we step into the reception area, the emcee announcing each one of us as we enter. Well, all but Brandt. He’s reduced down to “a friend.” Lindee Murray, who is being escorted by a friend.

As per tradition, we break out into the dance immediately. Hand clucking and wing flapping our way through this silly song.

“I don’t wanna be a chick, I don’t wanna be a duck, so kiss my ass…” Brandt sings, loud enough so only I can hear.

I giggle. “That’s not how it goes. This song doesn’t have lyrics.”

“Sure it does; I just sang them.”

“I’ve never heard that in my life.”

“It’s real,” Brandt insists, shaking his backside as he crouches down. “Declan knows. Right?”

He turns to our CFO, who turns his attention away from my older sister for a second. “What do I know?”

“I don’t wanna be a chick…” Brandt starts.

“I don’t wanna be a duck…” Declan continues.

Oh, goodness…

The two of them continue, singing and clapping, getting Rylan and Davis in on it with them. The crowd loves it, watching four grown men lose their minds to a children’s dance. I have to admit, it’s amusing. So much so that⁠—

“You seriously brought him?” Mikayla hisses at me, stealing my attention from the boys.

“Yes?”

“I think they’re cute,” Kyra adds, rounding out our little circle. “Besides, it shows he’s serious about wanting to make amends.”

“No,” Mikayla states emphatically. Although it’s hard to take her seriously while doing the chicken dance. “He’s after something. Using you.”

“For the love, Mick. You thought Davis was using me too. Can’t you just trust for once?”

“He was using you—for tax fraud.”

Kyra holds up her left hand, her massive diamond catching the light and nearly blinding me in the process. “This says otherwise.”

“Ugggh…” Mikayla rolls her eyes and sinks down then up again in time with the speeding-up tempo. “Mark my words, Lindee. This isn’t going to end well. He’ll show you his true colors and I don’t want to hear it.”

The song mercifully ends—two and a half minutes is a long damn time to repeat four dance moves—and my older sister gives us one last huff and then walks away. Presumably to rub elbows with people she deems a lot more important than us.

“You know this is her way of showing that she cares,” Kyra says, throwing her arm around me. “She’s emotionally stunted and believes that trying to protect us all is the only way.”

“I know.” I sigh, wishing that I didn’t.