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Wyatt reminds me of the new skittish horse we recently brought in. She was neglected and abused and scared of her own shadow. Jax and our trainer have been working with her, and the new therapist thought it might be good to have Wyatt help as well. I’ve also been teaching him how to play the guitar, which seems to relax him.
“We don’t need to rehash it for the millionth time,” Jax bites out.
“I think rehashing is good. It makes you remember why it was such a bad idea.”
Jax grunts. “She was my study partner.”
“Really?” I peer over at Sarah, who gives me a warning glance. I zero in on the blanket and basket of snacks we brought with us. “Do you havepicnicswith all your study partners?”
“What are you talking about?” Jax asks, bewildered.
“I’m just sayin’ if yer going to invite someone on apicnic, ye should at the very least show respect for them. Picnics shouldn’ be in the car or in the jacks—”
“Or while your mom is ten feet away,” Sarah chimes in.
“Well, I’d rather he have a picnic in his bedroom than some strange place. Also, not every girl should be invited to yourpicnic. You should have feelings for them.”
“Da,” Jax groans, catching on. “You’re mental. It’s not like I planned to have a ‘picnic’. It just happened.”
“Mommy, why are Daddy and Jax having picnics without us?” Alexis asks.
“I want to picnic,” Wyatt says.
“They’re not having picnics, baby. It’s just talking.” Sarah looks at me, exasperated.
“All I’m saying is, if yer going to havepicnics, make sure no one is taking pictures of the desserts to post later on social media. And remember to keep yer salami wrapped. Oh, and keep your picnic basket locked if ye do have a picnic in yer room.”
“Da, this is so stupid.”
“Let me ask you this. Are ye a picnic virgin? Have ye had other picnics before?”
“Lex,” Sarah warns.
“Da, I’m not discussing this right now.”
“I’m curious.” I shrug. “I started having picnics at yer age, ye know.”
“I’m not having picnics!”
“Jax, it’s totally normal to have picnics. I’m just sayin’ be smart about it, bud.”
“The only reason she wanted to have sex is because you’re my da!” Jax yells. He kicks the side of his horse and gallops on ahead of us, back to the stable.
“Shite,” I grumble.
Sighing, Sarah shoots me a glare. “Picnics, Lex? Really?”
“I was only teasin’ him.”
“You need to go talk to him. Hand me over Wyatt.”
“You can’t ride with both of them.”
“I’ll walk the horse and they can ride.”
Sarah swings a leg over her horse and steps down. I place Wyatt on her horse behind Alexis. “Hold on to yer sister.”
“Mama, can we go on a picnic?” Wyatt asks.
