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The inside is even better than the out. It’s a huge open-plan space, with wooden beams of warm oak. Modern in decor but with so many homey touches. It’s spacious yet cozy.
Sam draws us all into the kitchen where she flickers the gas alight on the stove to heat some liquid she has stewing in pots. Colt scoops her into him from behind. She leans her head back to rest on his chest slightly while she takes the pot lid off. He kisses her hair. He takes a spoon that’s sitting to the side and stirs, his body flush with hers, embracing her while they work. Man, they’re cute. It’s impossible to not wish something like that could be under the tree for me at Christmas.
In the meantime, two more people come, Sam’s parents, and with just one family, it’s a nine-person party. The only one missing is Logan, who has an away game.
It doesn’t take long for the alcohol to work its way into our systems. Laughter is everywhere around me. And so are dogs.
Eve comes over to me with a dachshund in her arms. “This is Belle.”
I scratch the pup. “Hey, Belle.”
“How are things going with Memphis?” she asks.
Eve is the first person to ask me if I’ve been getting along with the dog instead of her uncle, but it reminds me of him all the same. “I think the only thing I don’t like about Memphis…”
Her grin droops slightly.
“… is that Uncle Dash won’t let me sleep with him in my bed. I mean, come on, Border Collies are natural-born teddy bears.”
Eve laughs. “The perfect amount of fluff.”
“Yeah. But mostly I appreciate just having a dog. I wanted one growing up. And ponies. And a sabertooth tiger. Until I learned they were extinct.”
Her giggle fills the space between us. “My dad says all city girls want animals, just like my Sam. Want to hold Belle?”
“Of course I do…” I scoop the little wiener dog into my arms.
As soon as I do, Jolie slides into me, bumps and almost knocks me over, pretty tipsy now, and puts her arm around me. “You and Belle up for a game of Twister?”
I lift one of Belle’s short legs and do the voice I think a tiny dog would have. “I’m at a serious disadvantage.”
Eve explodes with laughter. “That’s funny, Molly!” She scratches the top of her pup’s head. “I’ll play fetchies with you later.” She raises her hand to Jolie for a high five and the girls smack them together.
“I’m in,” Eve says then turns to me. “You have to play. Have you ever played Twister?”
I haven’t.But I know the gist of it.
Jolie takes Belle from my arms, kisses the top of the dog’s head, and puts her down on the couch I’m standing next to. “Come on, Mols. We have three rounds. Instant elimination.”
She leads me by the hand into the living room where someone has moved the coffee table and laid out the plastic, spotted Twister mat on the floor.
Everyone sits around on the couches or on the arms of them. My first opponent is Joy Hunter. I thought it would be unfair, and my youth would be an advantage, until she shows me a pair of near splits that makes my eyes water.
“Yoga,” she says when she places one foot on the complete opposite end of the board from the other.
But ultimately, the strength in my arms from years of mucking out stalls and pushing wheelbarrows wins out, and I move to round two. I watch Colt take on Sam; they are rivals to the end, but I swear Colt loses only because when his face gets close to Sam’s boob, his concentration slips along with his right hand.
Dash plays his sister. He takes no mercy, and she crumbles and sticks her tongue out in response to his boastful smirk.
Which means in the next round… it’s the two of us.
Dash and I stand on either end of the board. Three Irish coffees deep, he’s looking more edible than ever. The alcohol only magnifies what I already know… this man is fucking gorgeous. And moments later, I have his ass in my face. For the love of all that is holy, I have to close my eyes for a moment not to want to take a bite out of his rock-hard glutes.
“Nice view, Molly?” Jolie jokes.
I swear, laced in her voice is less sisterly teasing and more innuendo. Did she set this whole thing up for us?
Dash spins again and makes a deft move to flip himself over. He’s now positioned over me in a bear-like stance, and we’re face to face. And man, do I love that face. Those lips. That ever-present perfect stubble of his, and I can’t help but recall the way it felt between my legs. I won’t last long with him over me like this, with these thoughts in my head. This wanting. I just want to give up and wrap my arms around him as I let go of these damn red and yellow dots and yank him down on top of me.
