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Jo sat on the other side of me, putting her back to the arm and pulling her legs up like a pretzel. Her smile was absolutely diabolical. “Yeah, do it for Poppy.”
“You two are the worst.”
“I don’t think she knows what to say, Poppy,” Jo said with a wicked look on her face.
Poppy nodded in mock disappointment. “She’s new to all this.”
I scowled at her. “As of last night—and this morning, if we’re counting—I have more recent experience than you.”
Poppy rolled her eyes.
Jo’s smile widened. “This morning, huh?”
I pretended to pick something off my shorts. “And in his workshop, up on the counter. And twice after that before the sun came up.”
Poppy’s jaw dropped.
“Honestly, I didn’t even know I could have that many orgasms in that amount of time. Must have been saving them up for a rainy day.”
Jo laughed hard enough that it couldn’t be considered anything less than a cackle.
Poppy wore a look of appreciation. “Well, would you look at that. Guess Keaton wasn’t rusty.”
“Oh, no. Man was oiled up and firing on all pistons.”
They howled with laughter that I couldn’t help but join. I didn’t realize I’d feel relieved. There was a part of me that thought maybe they’d be disappointed, despite all their pushing. That maybe they’d think less of me. But that said more about what I was afraid of than it did about them.
Before their riotous laughter had died, Grant strode in with purpose, his expression more annoyed than amused. When he found me sitting between my sisters like we were, he shook his head at them.
Jo lit up. “Grant, she stayed the night with Keaton!”
He extended a hand when he reached her and said, “Mhmm.” When she didn’t take his offering, he flicked his fingers in the universal sign to come on.
Rolling her eyes, she unfolded her legs and put her hand in his. “You’re no fun.”
“I know.” He turned to Poppy and gave her a look.
“What?”
“You too. Come on.”
Poppy folded her arms. “You can’t make me.”
One of his brows rose.
With a huff, she made to stand. “Oh, fine.”
He waited for her to pass him, then towed Jo away by the elbow. When he smiled at me over his shoulder, I mouthed Thank you, to which he nodded, ushering my sisters out the back.
I sighed, smiling, sinking into the couch for just a moment.
Just long enough to let myself be happy.
18
SUDS AND DUDS
DAISY
A smorgasbord of virile male torsos and curiously sexual kneecaps glistened in the afternoon sun.
My sisters and I had donned coveralls and tied bandanas around our heads before heading to the parking lot of Abuela’s restaurant where the men would be washing cars all day. In the logic center of my brain, I knew there would be some very fit men without shirts on, and I knew that I would enjoy this immensely. But when we pulled into the parking lot and those men were right there in front of me, I realized I’d had no idea what I was in for.
A collection of Lindenbach’s finest young men were scattered about the parking lot, busy talking and filling up buckets of soapy water, which, on its own was of little consequence. But when coupled with a dozen sets of abs, pecs already shining with sweat, rolling shoulders and biceps, and thighs on full display in those short five-inch inseams, every female in the vehicle ovulated simultaneously. Truly, the appeal of the many thighs and kneecaps shocked me. I didn’t know what it was about the rectangular shape of their thighs or the dip above their knees, but with all those thick and gorgeous tree-trunk thighs on display, it was a wonder any of us could keep ourselves upright.
“Honestly, how in the hell do all of them have abs?” Jo asked. “I’ve watched Wyatt Schumaker house two full racks of ribs and a baked potato. It’s not natural.”
“You’re one to talk,” I noted. “Your man is one of them.”
“Well, Grant runs every day and works out—”
“I literally watched him eat half a cake last week,” Poppy said flatly.
“Someday, they’re going to be old and squishy,” I reminded us all.
“But not today,” Poppy said, pulling the truck around to where Grant and Wyatt stood with Wyatt’s boyfriend, Manny, a bucket of soapy water between them. Lindenbach’s favorite cattle rancher and rodeo king was very much gay and could very well kick any man’s ass who had anything to say about it. As such, nobody did. In true fashion, Wyatt was wearing very short swim trunks, a cowboy hat, and a pair of old boots. He shot us a million-dollar smile and approached Poppy’s open window.
“Howdy, ladies,” he said with a flick of his brim. “Looks like you need a scrubbin’.”
“Wyatt Schumaker, don’t you go makin’ promises you don’t intend to keep,” Poppy said. “It’s just not fair.”
