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Elizabeth: I want pancakes. Please. Pretty please with sugar on top. Oh, definitely extra powdered sugar on them too. I’d love you forever and ever.
Ethan: You already offered that the last time you begged for something. Plus, some of us actually have to work today.
Elizabeth: I work too, brother. But I‘m all the way in town, and the B&B is like right next to you. And your niece really, really wants them. She’s told me as much with her urgent kicks this morning. Kick-kick. *Pan-cakes.*
I snort at the eager way she’s trying to talk me into this. Elle found out she was pregnant six months ago, and she’s used it to get whatever she wants since. You never tell a pregnant woman no, especially Elle. Her hormones will verbally attack me without apology.
Ethan: I’m sure she did. Or maybe she’s telling you she needs more room in there.
Elizabeth: Are you calling me fat?!
Ethan: I’d never.
Elizabeth: Did Maize make the blueberry and strawberry pancakes?
Our cousin Maize is the head chef at the family’s bed and breakfast. It’s located on the ranch, which means it can be flooded with Bishops at any given time. Her food is iconic in the area, and she’s never served a bad meal.
Ethan: Not sure. I haven’t been down there yet. Had an escapee to deal with after the sun rose. Also, I’m not driving fifteen minutes one way just to bring you pancakes. Where’s Connor? Make your hubs do it.
Elizabeth: He’s on an emergency call. I’ll take some blueberry muffins and sausage links too. Pleaseeeeee!
Now that Elle lives with her husband and stepdaughter, they’re closer to downtown than the ranch. Connor’s a vet like Elle and owns the only animal clinic in a fifty-mile radius, so his schedule is jam-packed. After she graduated from vet school, they became partners before falling in love and getting married.
Knowing I need to grab some things from the store anyway, I give in.
Elizabeth: Your niece is begging with little kicks. If she doesn’t get them soon, she’ll bruise my ribs!
Ethan: Okay! Okay! Fine. But don’t make this a habit. I’m only doing it one time.
Though I’m scolding her, she knows I’m only messing around.
Elizabeth: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, LITTLE BROTHER!
Ethan: You better!
I shove my phone back in my pocket, then tell Payton I’ll be back within the hour and to send a text if he needs anything. He gives me a nod, and I make my way to the truck, then drive to the B&B.
As soon as I enter, the sweet smells of sugary bread and greasy bacon fill my nose. Considering I didn’t get a chance to eat this morning due to my runaway, I decide to get something too.
Grabbing a to-go box, I pile pancakes inside, but they hardly fit, so I have to get two more since Elle wanted sausage links too.
“Damn, feedin’ a family?” someone asks from behind. I turn to find a smirking Grayson.
“Basically. Elle roped me into delivering her food. When I was in college, people paid good money for this kind of service.”
Grayson laughs. “You’re the dumbass who agreed.”
“She used the pregnancy guilt trip again. What was I supposed to say, no? She’d probably go tattle or somethin’. The last thing I need is Grandma Bishop on my ass for not being a good brother.”
He picks up a plate and piles on food as I snag a biscuit and throw some bacon and scrambled eggs on the side. Quickly, I sit at a table and eat my makeshift breakfast sandwich in five big bites.
Riley and Diesel walk in, hooting and hollering about something. Riley’s my older cousin, and Diesel’s his best friend who manages the cattle operation. Though they’re both married with kids, they’re still rowdy and like to have a good time. As their voices grow louder, I see my uncle John, who runs the B&B, wearing a scowl as he rounds the corner and moves toward them.
“It’s too damn early for all of that. Quiet down. Some of the guests are still sleeping,” he scolds, lowering his voice to a hushed tone but still loud enough for us to overhear.
Gavin, Maize’s husband, stands behind them and shakes his head. Diesel and Riley get into a whisper-shout argument just as Knox and Kane rush through the door and push past them, snatching up plates and loading them with food like a fire was lit under their asses.
“You can’t cut!” Riley exclaims after Uncle John leaves.
“I can do what I want,” Knox tells him as he snatches a honey butter biscuit from Riley’s plate and shoves the whole thing in his mouth.
“You’re gonna choke actin’ like a fool,” Gavin says. He’s at least a decade older than all of us and is usually the voice of reason that no one listens to.
“Maybe he should,” I add just as the group of them joins my table.
