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My eyes go wide as Jackson takes four steps forward before lifting his arm and throwing the balloon straight toward us. Elle screams at the top of her lungs moments before Connor blocks her and takes a direct hit. When Connor turns, he’s soaked. Olivia bursts into a fit of laughter, then everyone else does too.
Minutes later, Grandma’s hurtling through a crowd toward us.
“Jackson Joel Bishop!” No matter how old grandma’s children get, they’ll never be too old to get yelled at.
“Mama, calm down,” Uncle Jackson says, chuckling when Grandma takes off her boot and acts like she’s gonna whip him with it.
“You never irritate a pregnant woman in her third trimester!” Kiera, Jackson’s wife and love of his life, scolds just as she throws two balloons in Jackson’s face.
Harper’s laughter fills the air just as I hear a groan from behind us.
“Uh-oh,” I say, seeing the irritation written all over my dad’s face.
“Didn’t you tell him what I said?” he asks as he passes me. The next thing I know, a full-blown water balloon fight has begun—one that Uncle Jackson starts. It ends with Grandma threatening to kick all their asses if they don’t stop acting like children.
“Evan Tyler, you’re supposed to be the responsible one,” Grandma scolds as she picks up the balloon scraps.
“You mean the old, boring one,” Jackson taunts, shoving my dad’s chest.
“Ahh yeah.” Alex sighs with a wicked smile. “It’s a good day to be the youngest sibling.”
John snorts, shaking his head as he helps Grandma with the trash. “Says the first one to become a grandpa. You’re the old man ’round here.”
At that comment, Alex chases after him, but John speeds up, weaving around the food and nearly knocking over the dessert table. The fact that they’re in their fifties and can still run without getting a cramp shows how hard and long they’ve worked on the ranch.
“No one better ruin my pies,” Maize chimes in as we watch our fathers act like idiots. Though this is nothing we haven’t seen before. It’d be a rare event without their antics
“John Joseph Bishop, you stop it!” Grandma shakes her head as Grandpa joins the party, barely fazed by what he’s stumbled into.
“Alexander Scott, get back here and clean up this mess,” Grandma demands.
You know it’s serious when she’s whipped out all four of their middle names.
As if they’re teenagers getting busted, they gather around to do what Grandma demanded.
After everyone has settled down and we eat, Harper and I grab an extra blanket. We then make our way over to our favorite spot with a cup of punch. Since we were kids, we’ve spent this day together, and it wouldn’t be the same without her.
I put the blanket on the ground, and we lie down. Harper removes her hat and brushes against me as she scoots over. Extending my arm, I create space for her to come closer. “Havin’ fun?”
“Yep, as always.” She beams, snuggling into me. Harper smells sweet like gardenias, and I know it’s one of her soap scents.
She rests her palm on my stomach, and I try not to let her touch affect me though it’s nearly impossible. I concentrate on steadying my breathing so I don’t give myself away. One would think after all these years, I’d have gotten over the way I feel about Harper, but it’s only gotten more intense. At least I’m better at hiding it.
“Fireworks should start soon,” I tell her to calm my racing heart.
She looks up at me, smiling. “Can’t wait.”
I brush my fingertips against the softness of her shoulder, and I’m certain I see goose bumps form down her arm.
Is it possible we’re both in denial?
She’s never let on that she feels the same. It’s one reason I haven’t said anything and will continue to keep it tucked away. The last thing I want is to find out my feelings are one-sided and lose her for good.
Right now, I try to imagine how we’d look to an outsider and what someone who didn’t know us would see. I’m holding her tight like she’s mine. It’s no damn wonder Elle always gives us shit.
Soon, I hear the countdown from the crowd and know the show will begin at any moment. I place my hand over hers on my stomach as her cheek rests on my chest, allowing me to be her personal pillow. Loud booms are heard first, followed by bright red fireworks. The sky lights up with different colors, and I’m proud of the effort my family puts into making this happen every year.
The display has gotten so crazy—especially since my uncles are determined to outdo themselves each year—that it’s always the talk of the town for the rest of the summer.
Harper is in awe of each one, and I watch her enjoyment instead of the finale. The glittering lights reflect in her eyes as a soft smile touches her lips—the same lips I’d love to kiss right now.
