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“Good deal.” I grabbed two wire coat hangers from the hall closet, a lighter from my pocket, and headed for the back porch door. “Give me a second to get the fire started, and then we’ll get dinner going.”
“Need any help?”
“You can get us a couple of beers from the fridge and pick out the chips you want.”
“You got it.”
While Rae was busy in the kitchen, I went outside and tossed some wood into the fire pit. Once I had the flames rolling, I brought over two chairs, then unwound the coat hangers and forged them into long skewers. I was about to go back inside and get Rae when she came out holding a tray loaded with our beers and all the food. I stepped over to help her, but she placed it down on the table.
“I would’ve gotten all that.”
“Now, you don’t have to.” She glanced down at the wire hangers and smiled. “Wow, you really pulled out all the stops with this fancy cookout of yours.”
“Mm-hmm, only the best for you, babe.”
“Aren’t you just the sweetest?” Raelyn giggled as she opened the pack of hotdogs, then pulled one out and slipped it on the end of the wire hanger. “I haven’t done this since I was a kid.”
The flames illuminated her beautiful face as she extended the hot dog over the fire. I watched her for a moment, then grabbed myself a hanger, poked it through the hot dog, and held it over the flame. “I enjoy this kind of fine dining at least a couple of times a month, especially in the summer when my sister and her kids come out.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun.”
“Always.” I found myself smiling as I thought about Reece and Matt roasting their marshmallows by the fire. They always had a great time talking and cutting up, which was always good to see—especially when it came to Reece.
She was just twelve years old, and every moment—every breath of her life—had been plagued by cerebral palsy. Even though there were times when the symptoms were unbearable, she always tried to put on a brave face.
It pained me that I couldn’t do more to help out, but Reece took things in stride. Even when times were at their worst, she always found a way to push through it, and I admired her for that. “You should meet them sometime. They’re quite a pair—always into something, and their mother isn’t much better. She has a thing for making up crazy stories, especially ones about me.”
“Really?” A bright smile crossed her face. “What kinds of crazy stories?”
“Oh, things like I had a speech impediment when I was a kid, that I’m afraid of clowns, and I can’t sleep without my favorite blanket.”
“Those sound oddly specific.”
“Maybe, but I assure you they’re all bullshit.” I slightly chuckled, then added, “Except for the clown thing. I’ve never been a fan. They’re creepy as shit.”
“Yeah, clowns can definitely be a little scary—especially when they laugh.” A mischievous smirk slipped across her full lips. “Might make a person want a security blanket to protect them.”
She cocked that sexy eyebrow, and it was all I could do to keep myself from pulling her into my lap and kissing her, long and hard, but that wasn’t going to happen. I knew how incredible her body and her lips felt against mine—how she tasted—so if I got too close and physically touched or kissed her, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
I couldn’t let that happen. So, tonight, I’d keep my hands and mouth to myself.
I did my best to keep a straight face as I warned her, “Don’t start with me, woman.”
“Or what?” She gave me a fierce look as she sassed, “You’ll take my blankie away?”
“Oh, no you didn’t.”
“Yeah, I kind of did.”
I propped my coat hanger on the edge of the fire pit, then reached over and grabbed the bag of marshmallows. After I opened it, I took out a handful and tossed them at her. She shot up out of her seat and gasped. “Hey!”
“I warned you.”
“Yeah, y-yeah... y-you, y-you, you sure did,” Rae teased with a giggle.
“Oh, you little—” I grabbed another handful and tossed them at her. “I never stuttered!”
Sounding like a six-year-old missing their two front teeth, she poked, “Oh, it was a wisp, wight?”
“You’re walking on thin ice, woman.”
“Bring it on, tough guy.” She reached down and scooped up a handful of marshmallows from the ground, then chucked them at me. “I can take it.”
As soon as the words left her pretty little mouth, a full-on marshmallow war ensued, and it was one to remember. We chased each other around the backyard, laughing and taunting one another while tossing marshmallows back and forth. It was a good time—a really good time.
Finished with our little war, we returned to the fire to eat our hot dogs and drink our beers. We talked about everything from silly pet peeves to our most embarrassing moments in high school. The night turned out better than I could’ve imagined.
