Page 72 of Buckle Up, Buttercup

Hours later, Petra’s asleep on the Tuckers’ living room sofa. Elena and Bill are snuggled up in their oversized recliner watching a game show, and Jace has disappeared to his room. The twins, Bluebell and me are sitting around the dining room table playing gin rummy. Per usual, Bluebell’s kicking our asses.

Jack slaps my shoulder. “Hey, y’all wanna go skinny dipping? I invited a couple of girls to meet us in five minutes.”

Jasper snorts. “What if we’d said no, asshole?”

Jack matches the saucy sound. “When have you ever said no to skinny dipping with girls?” He flashes me an amused look. “Sorry, Bloob. I didn’t invite any men for you, and we’re all your brothers, so come if you want, but I can’t promise I’ll be on any sort of good behavior.”

She laughs. “No surprise there. I’ll come just to keep you out of too much trouble, unless you don’t want me to.”

Jasper tugs on one of her space buns. “Long as you don’t mind seeing a bunch of big-ass dicks.”

She scrunches her nose. “Appealing as you make that sound, I’m good.”

“Come, it’ll be fun,” I encourage her. “I can hide their dicks with my wings so you don’t have to see ‘em. Plenty of coverage for those disappointing little things.”

She looks between us.

“You should come; we haven’t done this in a while,” Jasper says. “Maybe bring a bathing suit though. It’s my job to protect you and I don’t need any of them monster dudes getting ideas, just in case some of them are into bitty titties.”

She scoffs. “That’s rude. I have to look at your nuts, but you don’t wanna see my boobs? Boobs are⁠—”

“Oh gods,” Jack says with an eye roll. “She’s about to launch into some Mother Earth stuff.”

“Maybe you should listen for once.” I reach out and slap him with my wing tip. “She’s right.”

Jasper snorts. “This protective gargoyle thing is cute and all, but this is Bloob, and she can take care of herself.” He tosses a dinner roll at her but she neatly dodges it, completely ignoring him otherwise. “Anyways,” he continues, “as the eldest Tucker it’s my job to protect her.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t have to take care of herself,” I bark before realizing my tone is entirely too aggressive for his joke.

Jasper goes silent, brows rising as he stares at me. He’s probably trying to figure out if I’m being serious or not.

The sound of tires rumbling up the Tuckers’ drive saves me from saying anything else. Jack leaps out of his chair and rushes to the door, grabbing his coat and flying out without saying another word. One of the girls must be the one Jasper keeps teasing him about having a thing for. Jasper grins and follows, waggling his brows at his mother as he walks out the door.

Bluebell looks at me. “You’d think they were eighteen and not going on thirty-five.”

“It’s a proven fact human men don’t mature until at least their mid-thirties,” Mama Tucker chirps from her spot nestled against her husband’s chest. “You sure you two want to go with them? I swear you were both born old souls, and skinny dipping doesn’t seem up your alley.”

“It’s not,” I admit. Not with the Jays, anyhow. “But we’ve kept the Jays out of more trouble than I can even admit to you, Mama Tucker.”

She places a hand over one ear. “Gods, I don’t even want to hear about it.”

Bluebell sighs as she stands, grabbing her coat from the back of the chair. “Guess we’d better go keep an eye on them.”

I trail her silently outside, where Jasper and Jack are talking to four pixie females in a truck.

“Oh boy,” Bluebell says.

“Let’s go, lollygaggers,” Jack shouts as he slides into the passenger seat. Jasper hops into the driver’s seat and waves two pixies over so they’re smashed between the brothers. Two more slide into the back and wave at us.

“You two coming or what?” one of the pixies hollers from the back seat, leaning halfway out. I think she might already be drunk.

We mostly manage to get into the car without incident…until I try to fold my wings into the back seat.

“Nice wings,” one of the pixies teases. “You’re a big boy, though, so you might want to hang out of the window a little bit.”

Bluebell glances up at me, nostrils flaring at hearing someone else call me a big boy.

“Move over!” the other pixie shouts from the middle of the back seat.