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He tuts. “We stopped betting real money ages ago. We play for candy now.” Wayne tips his head, then rushes out the door for his weekly poker night.
When I walk inside the kitchen, I get the same dramatic onceover from my sister. Then again, when Tripp runs into the room. You’d think I was wearing a tuxedo or some shit.
“Hattie texted she’s on her way over,” Poppy announces once she’s done teasing me about my fancy outfit.
Tripp furrows his eyebrows, glancing between Poppy and I. “Uncle Linc, are you and Hattie getting married?”
My sister grins, leaning back against the countertop with her arms crossed. “Yeah, Linc. Are you?”
The doorbell rings, thank my lucky stars, and I spin on my heel to answer it. Hattie smiles at me, and I wonder what the hell I’m going to do when I don’t get to see her every day.
I step aside to let her in, and she shrugs off her coat—that probably cost more than my pickup. I hang the garment up carefully while she slips off her boots, then I turn to face her.
I’m practically drooling as I drink her in. She has her hair down, the copper strands curling at the ends. She’s wearing a sweater I haven’t seen before. It’s a deep rusty color, the epitome of fall. It looks gorgeous against her pale freckled skin, fiery hair, and vivid green eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” I breathe out.
She blushes at the compliment. “Thank you.” Hattie takes a step toward me, her luxurious fragrance wafting around me and drowning out the soup.
“You clean up nicely,” she says in a low, sultry tone. “You look sexy.”
Hattie smooths her hands up my chest, and I nearly purr the way Calamity Jane does when I scratch her behind the ears.
Loud footsteps slam against the wood floor as Tripp barrels into the hallway. “Miss Hattie!”
Hattie steps away from me, crouching down and pulling him into a hug. “The soup smells amazing.”
You smell amazing.
“Did you see Uncle Linc gots all dressed up for you?” His eyes light up as he asks the question.
I grumble an expletive under my breath.
Hattie covers her mouth with one hand to stifle a laugh. “Yes, he looks very handsome.”
Tripp turns to glance at me over his shoulder. “Did you tell her she looks pretty? Mama says you should always tell a girl she’s pretty if you’re thinking it inside your head,” he whisper-yells. “Unless you’re old; Mama says it’s creepy once you’re old.”
His whisper might be even louder than his normal voice.
“Yes, Tripp, I did.” I grab my nephew by the shoulders, then rub my hand roughly through his hair until he pushes me away and runs back into the kitchen.
“Good thing you have Tripp teaching you how to woo a lady,” Hattie teases.
I loop my index finger into the waistband of her jeans, pulling her toward me. I don’t miss the way her breath hitches.
“You think I need lessons on how to woo, Princess?”
Her eyes flutter closed, and I lean closer.
“Ahem.” The familiar—and unwelcome—sound of Poppy clearing her throat has me swearing under my breath. “Dinner is ready.”
Hattie takes a step back, then rushes toward my sister and the two of them hug like they didn’t just see each other a few hours ago.
Maybe I should’ve taken Hattie into Porcupine Cafe for dinner. Then she’d be in my arms instead of Poppy’s. But I’d have to deal with all the nosy ass citizens of our small town who have nothing better to do but gossip on the infamous Honey Badger social media page…yeah, never mind.
Dinner is fairly painless, the four of us making easy conversation with Tripp adding humor and nonsense to every topic. As soon as Tripp is finished eating, Poppy announces its bath night, and he trudges up the stairs with a pout. She winks at me when she follows her son around the corner toward the steps.
Not a bad wingwoman, if I’m being honest.
