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“Yeah, and what’s that about? Talk about written all over you. You have a thing for him.”
“Trust me, he has no idea any of us exist. And even if he did happen to notice that I was an eligible bachelorette, there’s the matter of his brother.”
For a moment, we sobered. Poppy had dated Evan’s brother for long enough, and it had ended hard enough that Evan was probably off the table indefinitely.
“Anyway,” she said, “there’s also the pact.”
I sighed. “You’re never going to marry Dottie off. She said it herself—nobody here tickles her fancy.”
Poppy made a face. “You’ve just ruined that phrase for me, so thanks for that.”
“I mean it. You can’t all stay single forever.”
“Sure we can. Presley, what is she going to do when we’re all gone? She has devoted her entire lives to us. Leaving her alone feels blasphemous. None of us can stomach it, not unless she has somebody else to love.”
“She can have Elvis the Fourteenth. We’ll just have to adopt Elvis the Fifteenth. Keep the lineage alive.”
“Preferably somebody who isn’t covered in fur.”
“Picky, picky.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” She sighed. “If the farm wasn’t in our blood, I’d say we should move. Start over. Too much of the farm, this town, reminds her of Dad, I think. If I’m looking into my crystal ball, I think that’s why she hasn’t found somebody. Not because there isn’t anyone, but because Dad’s in every corner of this town.”
“None of this is sounding conducive to you dating Evan Banks.”
She elbowed me hard enough to make me oof. Confused by her weird smile, I looked toward the pool to find Evan walking toward us.
“Hey, Evan,” I said enthusiastically. “How’s it going?”
“Real good, Presley. Thanks for asking. Could I borrow Poppy for a minute?”
“Of course.” I practically pushed her in his direction.
She made the tiniest squeak as she entered his space.
“Do you have any more t-shirts?” he asked. “We’re almost out of bumper stickers too.”
“Sure. They’re in the truck—let me go get them.”
“I’ll come with you.”
I waved at them. “Bye, kids. Be good.”
Confusion passed across Evan’s face. Poppy tried to set me on fire with her eyeballs. And I laughed like an asshole.
I heard Priscilla before I saw her—the squealing giggle sound she’d been making all day was a dead giveaway. When I looked in her direction, I found her wrapped in a hot pink watermelon towel like a burrito in Sebastian’s arms. He was dripping wet, the sun catching droplets of water on his golden skin, his muscles on display, and his trunks stuck to him in all the right places.
“Brought you something,” he said with a thousand-watt smile before dumping Priscilla in my arms.
“Gah, she’s all wet.”
“Now you are too.” And he shook his hair out like a dog, flinging water all over me.
I groaned and laughed and shoved him in the chest as best I could with my arms full of Priscilla. “You’re the worst.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t throw you in already.”
“Don’t,” I warned.
He shrugged and shot me a smirk. “I’m going to check the meat, and afterward, you’d better have gotten rid of anything you don’t want wet.”
“I mean it, Bas. Don’t.”
“Do it!” Priscilla yelled.
“Hey, who’s side are you on?” I asked as I tickled her.
“Daddy’s!” she answered somehow as a giggle.
“Traitor.”
Sebastian winked at me and strode toward the smoker. I’d liked to have said I didn’t watch him, but I’m not as strong as I let on.
“Mama, where’s Abuela?”
“Sitting in the shade over there.
“We can go see her?”
“Sure.”
She wiggled like Persephone the worm. “Lemme down.”
“Okay, okay, gee, kid.” I set her down as requested. “Pick it up like a princess so you don’t trip.”
“I know!” she said, lifting her towel up like skirts before taking off in Abuela’s direction.
“Shit,” I said under my breath, jogging after her as I remembered myself. The last thing Abuela needed was Priscilla jumping into her lap with a hip on the mend. “Cilla, wait!”
Cilla did not wait.
But Abuela saw her coming and somehow maneuvered herself to take the impact without any trouble. The woman was a pro.
“Aye, mijita—I saw you flying in the pool. Where are your wings?” She shifted Priscilla by the shoulders to pretend to look behind her.
“No wings! Daddy threw me!”
“Ah, he did? Your Papa, he’s strong.”
“He can pick up a car.”
One of Abuela’s brows rose. “Did he tell you that?”
Priscilla nodded as I shook my head, taking the chair next to her. “That’s not what he said,” I chided.
She looked a little sheepish, but then said, “He can pick up Mommy.”
“Are you saying I weigh as much as a car, stinker?”
She shrugged, the little jerk.
Sebastian ran for the pool, jumped, called Priscilla, and bombed into the pool. She giggled and clapped and bounced until he resurfaced.
“Come on,” he shouted, holding his hands out.
Her towel was in a heap on the ground, and she was beyond my reach before I could grab her.
