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“I’m about fifty,” Brock muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of Krista’s head since she was snuggled up tight against him.
“I’m around twenty,” Grant said. “But I can’t be sure.”
“Zero for me,” Joy said with a shrug. “Would have liked to kill my ex-boyfriend, though. The catharsis would have been good.”
“Dad nearly killed him, though, for you,” Rex pointed out.
“That’s true.” Joy nodded then grinned.
“You all are a sick bunch of fuckers,” Rayma said. “I mean, I know everyone you killeddeservedto die, but still. Is this common conversation among you, or is it the crossfade talking?”
“Never had this conversation before in my life,” Brock mused, his eyes closed and brows pinched. “Kind of making me realize that I’ve taken more lives than I have brought into this world.” He pinched Krista’s butt. “More babies?”
She snorted and patted his chest. “Not gonna happen, big man. You’re fixed and I am officially retired from diaper and breastfeeding duty. Forever.”
“Vasectomies can be reversed,” he said before moving one hand down to cup his junk. “Though, I’m guessing that’s painful.”
“So, I’m going to diagnose you all as still high as fuck,” Rayma said. “And that you need to stay out here a little longer until you’re all suitable dinner companions. The kids are watching a movie, Jordan nearly cut off his finger, but we sewed it back on, albeit backward, and Zoe and Connor are helping in the kitchen. It’s all under control.”
“Who taught you to sew fingers back on?” Pasha asked. “Are you a doctor?” She started to giggle. “You’re not a doctor.I’ma doctor. But I don’t do a lot of limb reattachments. I bet that’d be cool, though.” She turned to face Heath. “Should I switch from pediatrics to limb reattachment?”
“Yes!” he said, nodding hard enough to make his paper mask slip off. “I one hundred percent support this impromptu career change.”
“Thanks, babe!” Then she started to laugh, and laugh, and laugh until she was hyperventilating and a panicked look took over her gentle brown eyes. “Oh my God, I can’t stop … I can’t … I can’t stop laughing.” She shook Heath. “Heath … I can’t stop laughing.” She was still definitely laughing, but now it sounded awkward and laden with worry. “Heath! Heath, help me. I can’t … I can’t stop laughing.”
Heath sat up, too. “Stop laughing!” he shouted into her face.
But Pasha was still laughing, her mouth wide, but her eyes wild and terrified. “I’m going to die. I can’t breathe. I can’t stop laughing. I’m going to die laughing. Oh my God!”
Rolling her eyes, Rayma walked up to her sister, pulled her to her feet, and slapped her across the face.
The laughing stopped.
Everyone stared shocked at Rayma and Pasha. Mouths hung open wide enough to catch flies and eyes were buggy.
“Did you just smack me?” Pasha exclaimed, holding her cheek.
“It stopped you from laughing, didn’t it?” Rayma asked with a shrug.
“Well … yeah … b-but ..” Pasha sputtered. “Youslappedme.”
“How am I supposed to defend my wife here?” Heath asked, appealing to the other men. “I can’t exactly slap Rayma. Do I put her in a timeout or …”
The other guys shrugged and shook their heads utterly clueless.
“You thank me, for regaining control of the madness, and for looking after your crotch fruits and taking care of dinner. I accept gratuities in the form of cash, cash, and cash. Up to you how much, but fives, tens, and twenties are preferred. I don’t have change if you give me a fifty, just expect me to keep it.” Then she spun on her heel and stalked back to the house, shaking her head and needing a drink more than ever before.
Only when she entered the house, she immediately wanted to run back outside, because the scene in the kitchen was enough to make even a stone-faced grump like Brock weep like a newborn babe.
Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Presentday…
“What in the ever-loving holy fucking hell happened?” Rayma cried, finding the entire turkey on the floor being torn apart by three big dogs—Diesel, Fudge, and Cocoa.
Jordan, Zoe, and Connor were nowhere in the kitchen, the potatoes were unpeeled in the sink and the dishes were not even on the dining room table.
