Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Maddy closed her eyes, falling back in her seat. “Fuck.”
I held back a laugh because she was right. She was fucked.
11
MASON
Turned out, Sam wouldn’t be taking point.
Logan got a text as we neared Fallen Crest and began laughing. “The women are at Manny’s and they’re wasted.”
Nate groaned. “Quincey tends to want to check on all of Nova’s animals when she’s had a couple too many drinks. She gets all weepy about how wonderful each of them is. We brought five of Nova’s animals with us this time. Five. That damn fucking tortoise. She’s going to try to bring Harold into our bed.”
“Harold?” Matteo laughed. “What?”
“The tortoise. She’s going to bring a stepladder into the room so he can climb into the bed. Goddammit. I’m not sharing my bed with a giant turtle.”
I snickered, at least until Logan got another text. His gaze met mine in the rearview mirror.
My grin fell fast. “What?”
He grimaced. “We don’t get Ninja Sam tonight. We get Dinosaur Sam.”
I frowned. The fuck?
When we got to the house, I sent Maddy to bed, saying sternly, “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“We have the funeral tomorrow.”
“We’ll talk when we can—maybe the day after. Go to bed. I mean it, Maddy.” I raised my voice as she started up the stairs.
Matteo and Nate didn’t stick around. Both headed to their respective areas of the house, or outside to the pool house, in Matteo’s case. Logan disappeared into the kitchen, and I waited, checking my phone to see if Channing sent a follow-up text. He hadn’t.
Ten minutes later, I found out what Dinosaur Sam meant.
Taylor walked inside first. She was sober, biting back a grin. Her shoulders shook with laughter. “I can’t—I just can’t. They’re…good luck.” She looked around. “Where’s my husband? Husband!”
“Wife!” Logan walked from the kitchen, a plate of warmed-up pizza slices in his hand. He beamed at his wife. “My Taco.”
She flushed. “Logan.”
He chuckled, pulling her in for a kiss. He held up the plate of pizza. “Hungry?”
She moaned. “God, yes. I shouldn’t. I might be up all night, but…” She stared at the plate.
He took a slice and pushed it into her hand. “Eat. I’ll hold your hair if it doesn’t agree with you.”
I frowned. “Shouldn’t you be out of the morning-sickness stage?”
Taylor groaned, shaking her head. “I wish. I still never know when something is going to not agree with me, but I’m starving.”
Raucous sounds came from outside. Taylor chuckled, nabbing a second slice and kissing Logan on the cheek. “And that’s my cue. Have fun.” She snorted, disappearing down the hallway to the wing where they always stayed.
Logan and I turned in time to see the door kicked open. I had to blink a few times to make sure I was seeing what I was seeing, but I was. Sam was in the doorway, her arms up and bent outward, and her knees bent in a squat.
“What the—”
“KER-BAHHHHHHHHHP!” She leaned forward and her mouth opened as she made the sound, then clamped together as her head moved backward. Her legs and arms moved forward, her knees still bent. She looked like a crab trying to walk forward as it stood up. She only went another few feet before there was a repeat performance.
Head out.
Mouth open.
“KER-BAHHHHHHHHHHHHPP! KER-KER-BAHHHHP-BAHPP-BAHPP!” Her mouth snapped open on each word like her lips were a beak.
Her head returned to its normal position and onward the crab-walk continued until another repeat.
Heather couldn’t walk behind her. She was on the ground, hugging her sides as she laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe.
“What the—” Logan started to say.
“KER-BAHHHHHHHP! BAHHHHHHHHP!” Snap. Crab-walk. Crab-walk.
This was Dinosaur Sam?
She was going to wake the kids. Or some of the kids.
I moved toward her, getting ready to pick her up, but the sliding door from the back of the kitchen opened. Soon after, we heard Quincey saying, “Shoo. Shoo. Come on. You can do it. Let’s go.”
Logan backed up a bunch of steps until he had a clear view of the kitchen. He cursed, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. He snorted, laughing as Sam let loose with another, “KER-BAHP BAHP BAHPPP! KER KER KER!”
He almost dropped the pizza, and he had to sit in the nearest chair, looking back and forth from whatever the fuck Quincey was doing in the kitchen to Dinosaur Sam.
“Come on. Yeah. Good job, Harold,” Quincey cooed. The patio door slid shut.
I took three steps and plucked my wife up in one arm.
“KER-BA—Oh!” She squeaked. “Mason.”
I carried her into the kitchen to see with my own eyes as Nate’s wife led Harold into the house. She was bribing him, holding out lettuce. He moved forward, reaching for the food. She kept pedaling backward, holding more leaves for him. He kept following.
Sam blinked away some wetness in her eyes. Heather had moved into the house, but only made it far enough to lean heavily against the wall, bent over with laughter.