A teeny-bopper song comes on and Callie drags my father out onto the floor for a spin. As Dad trudges along after his energetic granddaughter, he laughs and jokes that she’s keeping him young and ‘hip’.
Yes, he actually said the word ‘hip’.
Anyway, now I’m sitting at a table with my brothers. Jessa and the girls are on the other side of the room, sagging in a set of chairs arranged haphazardly along the perimeter of the crowded dance floor.
I’m not too invested in what anyone is talking about at my table. I’m too busy devouring the nanny with my eyes. The way her veil of long dark hair brackets her narrow shoulders. The way her giggles rise above the music like the twinkling chime of bells. The peachy flush of her cheeks. She’s had a little too much to drink and her laughter flows a little bit looser. She’s having a great time and I just wish I could be right there beside her.
“You could stop staring at her and actually go talk to her,” Jude suggests pleasantly. “Dance with her maybe?”
I glance over my shoulder to find all three of my brothers staring at me, identical smug grins on their stupid faces.
“I don’t wanna dance,” I grumble back.
“Oh, I see—you just wanna sit here all night and ogle her like a creeper.” Cannon leans back in his chair and clinks the ice around in his tumbler of whiskey.
“Dude, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I turn back to my plate and stab my fork into my cold chicken parmesan.
Walker gives his two cents. “She really is a nice girl. It wouldn’t hurt to ask her out on a date.” When I glare at him, he offers me an I’m-just-trying-to-be-helpful look.
He’s not being helpful. He’s being annoying. They all are.
“So you’re a relationship counsellor now?” I snipe at my oldest brother.
Walker gives me a brash grin and a shrug. “Well, I am getting married in less than a month so I’m willing to bet that I got something right.”
“What-fucking-ever…” I mumble and squirt some barbecue sauce onto my plate. Anything to get away from this conversation.
Do I know that Jessa’s a nice girl? Of course I do. She’s more than nice. She’s kind, lovely, devoted, fun. The girl is fucking delightful. And hot as all get-out. Any man would be lucky to have her.
But, dude—I’ve got baggage.
A young kid who depends on me. A serpent of an ex-wife I hope falls off the face of the earth. A frigging criminal record staining my name. Not to mention my attitude problem. Jessa deserves better. It’s not even up for debate.
The conversation is interrupted when a pair of feminine hands land on Walker’s shoulders. I look up to find our mother grinning down on the table. She’s a little bit breathless and her hair is messy from dancing. She’s been having a ball tonight.
“What are we talking about?” she asks brightly as she squeezes the farmer’s shoulders and smacks a loud kiss to his forehead. She staggers around to my side of the table.
I glance around, shooting my brothers don’t-you-dare eyes. Jude snickers but keeps his mouth shut. Cannon hides his grin behind his tumbler. Ma’s eyes land on Walker.
That’s not good.
Walker is the worst liar of us all and Ma has a superpower for seeing right through him.
Walker clears his throat and speedily rises from the table. “Uh, I think my bride-to-be’s a-calling. We need to pick our wedding china or plan the seating chart or choose the linen or…something.” He shrugs unconvincingly as he flees the scene.
“Make sure to save me a dance,” Ma hollers after him. She throws up her arms and wiggles about.
Cannon, Jude and I share a look. Oh boy, Ma’s really smashed tonight.
“Of course, Ma,” Walker promises with a wink then disappears into the crowd.
“Anyway,” our mother says, “I’m looking forward to a dance with each of you tonight.” Her eyes flutter around the table before landing on me again. “Starting with you, Eli.”
I groan. “That’s really not necessary.”
She narrows her eyes on me and stares sternly. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Can’t you just dance with Jude?” I have zero qualms about throwing my youngest brother under the party bus. “We all know he’s the best dancer.”
Cannon snorts. “Jude dances like he forgot to put on his bunion cushions.”
I slam the smartass with a glare. “Is this your way of volunteering to hit the dance floor with Ma?”
He cringes. “Well, uh, y’see…”
I love my mom. We all do. But the thing is, when Ma gets tipsy, she doesn’t pay too much attention to where she puts her feet when she’s dancing. She’s a bit of a toe crusher.
Our mother cuts in, her eyes on me. “Jude is gonna get his turn. So will Cannon and Walker. You’re the one most likely to make a stealthy exit so you’re up first.” She motions for me to get up. “Come on.”
Sighing, I slap down my napkin. “Fine. The chicken’s cold now anyway.”
Ma grins triumphantly as I rise to my feet. Shaking my head, I follow her through the crowd. My eyes meet Jessa’s and she beams as she watches me with Ma.
Well damn, if I’d realized that dancing with my mother would earn me brownie points with Jessa, I wouldn’t have done all that complaining.
The band strikes up a Frank Sinatra classic and I sway around with the lady who gave birth to me, the lady who is currently very tipsy. Our feet get bungled up a bit, but for the most part, it’s okay.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?” she asks, grinning up into my face.
“I just saw my mother twerking. I’m not sure I’ll ever be all right ever again.” I deadpan and she bursts out snort-laughing. “Ma, what the hell was that?!
Her arm goes tighter around my back. “If you knew
