Page 75 of Tony

“And you have to feed us brunch,” Vann adds.

Veronica smirks. “How would you like your eggs, little brother?”

Brunch at the Shrike Ranch is no small thing. They eat in the dining room, at a table that seats twelve—every chair filled—and is overflowing with a big country feast. Eggs are just the beginning. There are pancakes, and bacon, and sausage, and even a quiche. Veronica’s husband, Spencer, talks to Vann non-stop over the chatter of ten females.

It’s a nice family, I realize. Not that the Vaughn brothers aren’t a nice family. They are. They’re just… a whole lot of men in that house. You can practically feel the masculinity oozing out the front door.

This house is homey. Not perfectly designed, or particularly tidy, or even opulently upscale, even though you can tell this place cost a bundle. It’s just very… lived-in, filled with love, and contains mostly girls.

It’s a nice break from my normal routine. Which is mostly being alone.

And I realize that if Vann and I do become a thing, and it works—then I will inherit all these people. All those brothers at the Vaughn house. Veronica and Spencer and their pack of girls. Even though I have written off Veronica’s pack of girlfriends as BFF material, they would make a nice backup.

The whole thing kind of sounds nice and by the time Vann and I are heading back down the Shrike driveway, I’m already well on my way to dreaming about a life filled with these people.

Vann doesn’t take us home. Instead he pulls his bike up in front of Sick Boyz because it’s well after noon now, and there are people hanging out in the front waiting for their appointment.

He smiles at me and takes my helmet, then fastens both of them to the sissy bar. “That wasn’t my date,” he says, like this topic has been on his mind the whole ride back to town.

“No?”

“Well, not all of it. Obviously.”

“It was a good start.”

“My sister didn’t scare you away?”

“No.” I sigh. “She actually earned you points.”

“Points? Are we on a point system?”

“Mmm-hmm.” I smile.

“What’s my running total?”

“Well, I would give you five points for surprising me with the bike ride and braiding my hair on the porch.”

“OK.”

“And twenty points just for the bike.”

He looks down at his bike and grins. He built this bike with his own hands, so this is a compliment he can get on board with. “It’s the art on the tank, right?”

The art on the tank is a homage to classic tattoos. Brightly colored pin-up girls in vintage sexy bikinis, anchors, and swallows, cherries, roses, and hearts. And, of course, the obligatory heart with arrow and a mom banner flying across the front. It’s sick in a Sick Boyz way.

“Yup, it was the art,” I agree.

“Is that it then? Twenty-five points?”

“No, I give you five hundred points for your sister’s farmhouse.” He chuckles. “And a bonus point because they had ponies in the corral by the barn. And the brunch is worth… mmm… thirteen.”

“So I’m up to five hundred and thirty-nine. What is this out of? Because if it’s five hundred, then I’m in A-plus-plus territory. But if it’s a thousand, then I have to up my game.”

“Hold on. I’m still tallying.”

Vann sits down on the seat of his bike and crosses his arms, grinning at me like a boy falling in love.

“I give you a thousand points for agreeing to babysit.”