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“Twenty.”
“Thirty.”
“Twenty-five. Final offer,” I growl.
He stares at me numbly before holding out his little hand. “Okay, deal!”
“Demanding little brute. But I can’t blame you, knowing where you get it,” I say, tapping him on the forehead with the cookie while I lock eyes with my brother.
Archer holds out a basket with wadded bills and I drop my cash in. Then I slide an arm around Junie’s waist and hand her the cookie.
“For the Sugar Bowl,” I say.
The tension in her body dissipates as she looks up at me.
“Oh, nice! It’ll be right at home on the wall,” she promises. “I love it already.”
“You better,” I tell her. “It cost me a whole twenty-five dollars.”
She and Colt laugh together, and for the first time, I think maybe this day won’t end in disaster after all.
We wind through the park, visiting every booth, a couple dozen or more artists plus a few food vendors lined up in neat rows.
Junie’s in her glory, snacking and encouraging me to spend my money on craft beer, laughing in pure delight at everything she sees.
Shit, how does it come so easy?
If I just had half her excitement, the whole world might feel lighter.
As the afternoon draws on and the art show winds down, I sit by the river on the grass. Junie talks to Colt, listening to his latest obsession with some cartoon where Lucifer’s daughter runs a hotel for redeeming souls.
The girl has more patience than I do, especially when Patton drops down beside me.
“You’re still here?” He whistles in mock surprise. “Old Dex would’ve left as soon as he could get away with it to get home to his spreadsheets and punching shit.”
Looking at Patton, it’s clear he’s had more than a few of those craft beers. I don’t blame him—they were decent beer—but there’s no point cussing him out. It’ll just roll right off him.
So I tuck my hands behind my head and say, “Figured Mom wouldn’t mind the company. How often does the entire family ever spend a whole evening together?”
“She can’t stop talking about it, dude. This. You.Her.” He waves a hand at Junie. “It’s nice seeing you as an almost-married man, you know? Maybe that’s what the family needs. Maybe it’s what we’ve been missing for a while.”
“You’re drunk, Pat,” I tell him. “Go home.”
“Not drunk enough,” he says. “And being drunk doesn’t stop me from having eyes. I can still see what’s going on. And hell, Bro, I like it. I like her. I likeyouwhen you’re around her and that’s pretty fucking shocking. Like I said, it’s just what this family needs.”
“A pretty redhead?”
He glares at me and raises the bottle to his lips. “I’m talking about you having a beating heart.”
“Bull.” Does he even remember this whole thing is a ruse with an end that can’t come soon enough?
I look over again at Junie, who smiles up at Mother. It’s an easy smile, like she was born into this, and Mother laughs at something she says.
In another life, Patton might be right instead of coming off like his usual jackass self.
Juniper Winkley might have fit into the family geography for real. Another moving piece, another cog slotting seamlessly into our world.
Trouble is, that will never be reality.
