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“Thirty-six here, sis.” Jude pointed to himself. “Still very happily single.”
“Hold up…you mean to tell me there’s zero hope for any of you bastards to give me nieces and nephews? Or Mom more grandkids?”
“Unless Jude accidentally knocks someone up,” Ty commented on a chuckle. “Yes, that’s exactly what we’re telling you.”
“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’m pretty sure you should all seek therapy.”
“Been there, done that,” Rem commented. “But that’s par for the course when your fiancée leaves you at the altar.”
I couldn’t deny that my eldest brother had taken quite the blow back in the day when he’d actually been in a happy, committed relationship. Though, that relationship—almost marriage—had fallen apart in a glorious blaze of fire on his actual wedding day.
But I hadn’t really considered the possibility that, between our dad leaving and Remy getting his heart torn out of his chest in front of all our nearest and dearest, it had left some serious scars on not just him, butallof my brothers.
“Basically, love is a bitch that I don’t fuck with,” Jude said, and I looked across the counter at him. “In fact, I avoid her at all costs.”
“You say that like you’ve never been in love.”
“Because I haven’t.”
“What?” My jaw dropped. “You’re screwing with me.”
“Nope.” He shook his head, and I hated how serious his eyes were. “I’ve successfully avoided heartbreak.”
“That’s so…sad.”
“Why is that sad?” Ty questioned.
“Because…” I paused and tried to find the right words. “Because…if I would’ve had the same mind-set as you, I would’ve missed out on Wes. And he’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me and Lexi.”
“I’ll be honest, sis. Wes is probably one person that Iwouldmarry,” Jude stated. “I mean, he owns the fucking Mavericks. And I’d have a lifetime guarantee of box seats for every game.”
“Oh my God, you’re such an idiot.”
Jude just smiled at me, his face all smug, and before I could stop myself, sisterly instinct took over. Without even thinking it through, I reached out and snagged half of his pancakes with my bare hands and threw them directly in his face.
“What. The. Fuck?” he questioned on a surprised laugh, and his eyes met mine. “You didn’t just do that.”
“Oh, but I did.”
“I can’t be sure, but it kind of sort of feels like our baby sister just declared war,” Ty stated and stood up from his chair.
“Don’t even think about it, Ty,” I said, but the instant I saw him take a handful of pancakes into his hand, I dove down behind the counter and onto the floor on a squeal.
And since I was no longer a possible target, when I heard Rem shout, “You fucker!” I knew that he’d been on the receiving end of Ty’s pancake-throwing.
Before I knew it, all four of my brothers were tossing food at one another—and at me—like we were still the wild Winslow kids inside our mom’s kitchen, arguing and fighting and wreaking havoc like a freaking Fourth of July fireworks show.
God bless the Winslow family.
“Well, that was exciting,” Kline said as he pulled his SUV to a stop in the driveway in front of the lake house. “Arealadventure.” His voice oozed sarcasm, and I couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Nothing like spending hours watching Thatch pick out fireworks, huh?”
“It wasn’t hours,” Thatch retorted, but my daughter didn’t hesitate to correct him.
“Actually, Uncle Thatch, it took you two hours, fifteen minutes, and twenty-two seconds.”
A knowing grin consumed Kline’s face, and I laughed again.
