“Okay, are we all ready to go?” Hazel said, Cross, Paris, and Prior behind her.
“I think we are.” I looked at the others, who nodded.
We were here for Music in the Foothills, a fun concert that raised money for local charities. It was an entertaining time for families—and great music in general. I had come the past two years, but this was my first time with a whole crew like this. It felt like I was part of a family, something bigger than myself. And I liked it. I had never done anything like this with my parents. This was far too informal with the food trucks and carts everywhere. People were camped out on blankets or in lawn chairs they had brought. It was usually very peaceful and a lot of fun. Kids ran around and played, and everybody had a good time.
It didn’t get too rowdy, and you always felt safe when here. Plus, I got to be with people that I enjoyed being around, and that was all that mattered to me.
Nate slid an arm around me and kissed the top of my head. I frowned and looked up at him.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“You looked sad. I wanted to make you smile.”
That little clutch came back, and I pushed it away and did my best to ignore it. I could not fall for Nate. I couldn’t. Not the way I had before.
Before, it had been fast and hard and all-encompassing.
I had lost a part of myself because I hadn’t known who I was. Now, I had a firmer grasp on who I was and who I wanted to be. I didn’t know how Nate fit into that, or if he did at all. But that meant I had to remember exactly where I stood in my own reality before I let myself fall too quickly—or at all.
“I’m fine. I was thinking about the fact that my parents would never be caught dead here.”
Nate snorted. “Oh, hell no. Not even in the slightest. Although I’d like to see your mom try to sit down on a picnic blanket with one of those tight skirts she wears.”
I raised a brow. “Okay, gross. You noticed how tight my mother’s skirts are?”
He blushed and shook his head. “No, but it looks like she’s always standing too straight in those pencil skirts. Like it’s hard to move around. Very uptight with a stick up her ass.” He paused. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so rude.”
“No, no. I agree with you. Mom always has a stick up her ass. And yes, she’d never demean herself by sitting down on a blanket with the common folk.”
“Okay, I’m sorry for bringing them up.”
I shook my head. “I’m the one who thought about them and first mentioned them. All you did was make a weird comment about my mother’s skirts.”
“Please, let’s never mention this again. Not if I want to sleep with you.”
I laughed. “Yes. If you ever want sex again, then you can’t talk about my mother.”
“That sounds like a deal to me.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Joshua asked, sliding between us. He took our hands, and I looked down at the boy. Once again, I felt a little tug.
I looked up at Nate, and he had an odd expression on his face that I knew likely mirrored mine.
If we hadn’t been pulled apart, would we have a boy around Joshua’s age? Would we have a child of our own who held our hands and called Nate Daddy?
There was no use dwelling on the past, not when it had stood in our way for so long already.
But it didn’t make it any easier to forget.
Nate cleared his throat, and his expression went back to the fun uncle, and not the one with memories that haunted us both. He was so much better at this than I was. I defaulted to icy bitch queen, but he went to the nice guy.
We were both good at hiding things. It was no wonder we had never known the truth of ourselves before now.
Nate grinned. “We were just thinking about how much funnel cake we’re going to eat.”
“I’ve never had a funnel cake. Is it good?” Joshua asked.
I pressed my lips together and raised a brow at Nate.
“I think it’s time we gorge ourselves on funnel cake.”
“I don’t know if Dakota will like that,” I sing-songed.
“What is Dakota not going to like?” the woman in question asked as she came up to my side and hooked her arm with mine.
“We’re discussing funnel cake.”
Dakota cringed. “Really, Nate?”
“Don’t blame Nate,” Macon put in. “I was going to get one for us anyway.”
“It’s so much grease and sugar,” Dakota said.
“Did you say sugar?” Joshua asked, bouncing on his toes. I laughed, then let go of his hand to run my fingers through his hair.
I shook my head. “We’ll make sure you get all the funnel cake and horrible junk food you could ever want. But you’re not allowed to puke.”
We stood in line, waiting to get into the venue, and Joshua looked up at me, his eyes wide.
“I’m going to puke? Cool.”
I rolled my eyes. “No. You’re not allowed to puke. We will be the fun aunts and uncles who give you junk food, but only on special occasions because your mother will disown us if we go too far. However, you’re not allowed to puke. I despise vomit.”
“Okay. I promise not to puke. In front of you.”
That made me laugh, and Nate grinned and gave the little boy a high-five. “Seriously, though, I puked in front of Myra once, and she threw up right next to me. Spewed everywhere.”
“Do not tell him that story,” I chided, and everybody laughed.
“Oh, but you need to tell us,” Prior said on a laugh.
“It was nothing. It was in college. Things happen. We are not telling everybody that story. I’m a sympathetic vomiter. Even talking about it…” I took a deep breath and swallowed the bile in my throat. “Okay, now I don’t want a funnel cake. Look at what you’ve done. You have ruined junk food for me.”
“Not all of it will be junk food,” Macon said, shaking his head. “I see a couple of food trucks down there that have been in the downtown area near my practice. That taco truck? It’s gourmet.”
“Ooh.” I eyed the vehicle.
“Oh, yes, there’s a bunch of fusion trucks around here,” Dakota added.
“Okay, so you guys get the funnel cake and we can gorge ourselves on gourmet,” Hazel said, looking down at her notes. Why she had a notebook—as did Paris—I’d never know.
“I think we need to get one of everything.” Cross rubbed his hands together.
“Yes, everybody’s going to have a bite of everything they want, but I promise, nobody’s going to puke.” Hazel met my gaze.
I visibly shuddered. “Okay, that’s enough of that.” I turned to change the subject. “I’m sorry that Arden couldn’t come.” I glanced between the brothers.
“The last time we came here, the sun was a bit too much for her. It flared her lupus,” Nate explained. “She’s hanging out with Liam and his family today since a few of them aren’t feeling well.”
My brows rose. “What do you mean?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s morning sickness,” Cross said, grinning like a fool.
“Oh my gosh, how many of them are pregnant?” I asked.
“I’m not sure, but I think they’re enjoying themselves. Since we’re still waiting to hear about the adoption process for Liam and Arden, they have a lot of plans to go through. So, they’re just hanging out today, and we’ve got the rest of the Bradys here at the music festival.”