There’s one of us who’s always willing to try anything, literally anything . . . as in we dare him to do shit all the time just to see if he will, and he always does. So to no one’s surprise, James grabs his and starts sucking at the straw. After a few draws, he holds it up, surprised. “That’s delicious. What’s in it?”
I proudly tell them all about Willow’s recipe and how Hank agreed to sell it as the whole table slurps theirs down happily. With it being light beer and sweet, it doesn’t even give me a buzz, but I feel bubbly inside anyway as I watch Willow work.
Bubbly? A rough motherfucker like you can’t be bubbly. It’s downright physically impossible unless you’re talking gas.
Yep, even I can do bubbly, so suck it.
I argue with myself, knowing that it’s the truth. It’s that feeling so many songs have been written about. Hell, I’ve written some myself, thinking I knew what I was talking about. But I didn’t until right now.
Champagne rushing through my veins, but it’s not the liquor. It’s you.
Conversation turns to work stuff, as usual, and we discuss the latest cattle prices, herd health, crop yields, and Shay talks about the planned fall offerings for her homemade goat soap and food goodies business. “Pumpkin spice soaps again, because of course, those are my best sellers. Pumpkin spice everything!” she says, feigning a basic Starbucks bitch voice and garnering a few smiles. In her own voice again, she continues, “But I think I want to try a new apple scent. Something brighter and lighter, like a honey crisp and floral combo. I’m not sure, though, because the apple cinnamon set with the soap, apple butter, and candle is such a seasonal favorite.”
Sophie raises her hand. “If you do the new one, you’ll still make the apple butter, right? It’s Cindy Lou’s favorite.” James gets real interested in Shay’s plans at that and parrots, “Yeah, it’s Cindy Lou’s favorite.” Sophie’s brow raises sharply at his emphasis on their baby girl, and I think maybe James is helping his little daughter make the apple butter disappear. One for you, one for me. One for you, two for me.
“Of course, I’ll still make it. For Cindy Lou.” Shay knows good and well who’s eating it too. “But before all that, we still have next week’s deliveries to discuss.”
We all groan. Shayanne has become quite the entrepreneur, which we support wholeheartedly as her staff. There are deliveries every week of every season, which we tackle on a rotating schedule. But for a whole bunch of grumpy assholes, making deliveries to people all over town is basically signing up for a day of hell.
“I need to check with Willow first. I’m not sure what days she’s off, and I want to be sure I can spend those hours with her,” I tell Shay, looking to Brutal for confirmation. We work together most days, handling the planting and harvesting as a two-man team, though we occasionally have to hire a day worker to help. He nods that he’ll cover for me whenever I need to step away for the day.
“Whoopsh,” Luke says in his version of a whip sound. With a grin, he adds, “She’s already got you whipped.”
I chuckle at that, shoving his shoulder. “Fucker, have you looked in a mirror lately? My sister has your balls in a jar in the deep freeze with the roasts. You’re the most whipped of us all.”
He shrugs, unconcerned. “Hey, if my woman wants to play with my balls and smack my ass a little, I’m game.”
“Enough,” Brody barks out.
We all like Luke. Hell, I’d fight alongside him any day. But he’s still fucking my sister, which makes our friendship a bit tenuous, no matter what. I’m not one to share sexual escapade stories, and I definitely don’t need the details of his sex life, especially if Shay is smacking his ass like a damn pony ride. Ugh.
Shay can sense the tension, and used to it, she intervenes easily, changing the subject to the reason they’re all here tonight. “I like her. She seems nice and didn’t shrink when we all swarmed, so she’s got that going for her.”
“You just met her,” Katelyn tells Shayanne, finally joining the conversation instead of making fuck-me eyes at Mark.
“Yeah, but I have a good feeling about her. Like I had with Sophie when I met her.” Shay grins and Sophie cringes.
“Oh, my God, girl. You nearly had me running for the hills. You were like, ‘hi, nice to meet you . . . now, we’re BFFs . . . wanna come over and see my goats?’”
Shay balks. “But you did! And look how it turned out!” She gestures around the table at our whole motley crew.
Sophie smiles back and offers an apologetic high-five to Shay, which she returns begrudgingly.