“I think so,” she answered.
“Kyle, congrats, my man, you nailed the skinny-dipping divorcées,” Grayson said, holding out a fist to Kyle. Kyle reached out and bumped, feeling pretty proud of himself.
“Excuse you, I called the puker!” Drea exhaled.
“Yes, you did, baby girl,” Miller said. “And she puked during her dad’s attempt at a speech if I’m correct.”
“She sure did,” Grayson muttered, shivering from the thought of the amount of vomit the moment resulted in. “Speaking of, whoever had the distinct pleasure of cleaning that up deserves a bonus this month.”
“So, it comes down to knitting needles and the creeper in 531,” Miller said.
“I saw Mr. 531 making his rounds, and I did not see a single knitting needle,” Vaughn interjected.
“But you said he’d hit on everyone under thirty, and he did not make it to every last person under the age of thirty. Drea, did you encounter 531?” Simone asked.
“Nope, he didn’t say a single word to me all night.”
“Me either,” Kyle interjected. This was met with another fist bump from Grayson.
“But there were no knitting needles either, so some encounters overrules no needles,” Vaughn argued.
“Does not!” Simone argued back.
“Well, Simone, consider it an early wedding gift,” Grayson said, digging into his pocket for a moment before pulling out his cell phone. “But I texted Dalton and asked if he happened to see grandma last night, and sure enough.” He held out his phone to show her and Vaughn.
Grayson: Hey, did you happen to see that older lady with the knitting needles at the bonfire last night?
Dalton: Sure did man! As I was making my exit from that redhead who was puking her guts up, she stabbed me with one of those things! Fucking thing hurt like a bitch…
Dalton: Why, was there an issue?
Grayson: Nope, just wondering. Thanks man.
“YES!” Simone shouted. She did a little dance in her chair, only annoying her fiancé further.
“You paid him to say that, didn’t you?” Vaughn asked.
“How would I have done that? You can see the trail of texts!”
“You sure?”
“You want to text him to ask?”
“Damn it!” Vaughn smacked the table.
“Don’t worry, bro, I washed it for you,” Grayson said, rubbing it in.
“Sorry, Uncle Vaughn,” Drea commented.
Vaughn continued to grumble about having to wear the shirt as they all dug into breakfast. This was the most food Kyle had ever seen at breakfast. Maybe it was because of the extra body, or maybe Kyle had just never attended a full Wednesday breakfast to know how much food they started out with. The only thing that seemed to be missing was Miller’s infamous magic muffins, and Kyle would bet that if he asked, some could make an appearance.
Other than Vaughn’s protestations that the text shouldn’t count as proof, the conversation flowed easily, the uncles treating Kyle as if he’d always participated in this ritual, and no one seemed to be any the wiser to what he and Drea were hiding. It was a relief to not feel on edge about their secret, and he wondered if Drea was feeling the same way. She was much more relaxed than she had been the last time they were at this table for a family meal, which was a huge relief.
“Oh, before I forget,” Vaughn said. “The lawyer will be here Friday morning to add Simone’s name to all the Indigo Royal paperwork. Don’t worry, it’s only my portion she’ll have access to, we’re not dividing it into fifths all of a sudden. Drea, I assume you won’t have any tours Friday? So you can be here to meet with the lawyer at ten?”
“Why do I have to be there?” Drea asked, confused.
The conversation came to a halt and silence filled the table. The only noise that seemed to penetrate the silence was Grayson slowly putting his coffee mug back down on the table. The kitchen staff buzzed around them, yet nobody at the table moved. Kyle slid his gaze between each one of the men sitting at the table. All three had unreadable expressions on their faces, yet seemed to know exactly what the others were thinking.
