Page 101 of Marriage (Red, White &) Blues

Because the big, strong men did the heavy grunt work of lugging boxes of groceries up to the house, Pen, Sierra, and I graciously got to work preparing a meal.

Pen put me on peppers. I flipped the first one over to rest on the cap and dug my fingernails into the bottom to tear it into sections and get the seeds out. For some reason my grandmother always did it this way, so I did too.

“Oh, my god, what did that pepper do to hurt you?” Sierra asked.

“Gloria smash,” Pen teased.

Laughing, I threw the stem at Sierra and then whipped the bundle of seeds at Pen. They cackled while I defended my choice, “Hey—Grandma Maria’s tried and true pepper technique. Are you going to argue with my old-world grandmother?” They cackled harder, dragging me into their cackling coven with them.

By the time we got the food on the table, the entire house smelled of chicken parm over homemade pasta and garlic toast.Sierra cut up the veg for the salad because my grandma’s pulled apart peppers got overruled.

“That is one of the best meals I’ve had in I can’t tell you how long,” Pete said. “And that includes the dinner at your mom’s wedding,” he said to me in his adorable Oklahoma twang. “Thank you, ladies.”

“Wait until you taste Sierra’s Italian cream cake,” Pen said, the little instigator.

Pete’s gaze roamed over the table to land on Sierra and the corner of his mouth hitched up in that sexy way men had when they weren’t trying to be sexy, while she squirmed in her seat and the tips of her ears turned bright red. He eyed her like the only cream he planned to eat, he’d eat from between her thighs. “I can’t wait to taste anything Sierra has to offer,” Pete said.

“Right.” Sierra shot up out of her seat and practically ran to the kitchen. Pete stood from his seat at a much slower pace, nodded at the men at the table, and followed her in.

I turned to Pen and Ant. “What am I missing? Why is she so against Pete? He’s wonderful. He’s fun and he’s the sexiest ginger I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Then we need to get you a new mirror,” Blake said, “because Pete doesn’t hold a candle to you, sweetheart.”

Pen popped out a laugh as I shook my head, smiling at his absurdly humorous comment. I balled up my napkin tossing it at his head.

“What?” Ant asked. “You’d rather your husband think Pete was hotter?”

Just then, Sierra speed-walked out of the kitchen past the table. “Cake is in the kitchen. I’m going upstairs for a while. I think we should make a fire in the fire pit.” And then she took off in a dead run up the stairs.

Pete sauntered out of the kitchen—sauntered—wearing a wicked smirk and a disarming glint in his eye with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Ladies,” he said to Pen and me. “Gents,” he said to the men, then he picked up his plate and flatware, and Sierra’s plate and flatware, and turned to saunter back into the kitchen. When he caught me staring, he lifted both his eyebrows, almost the way one might chin lift, and then he winked.

We all turned to Ant, who broke out laughing and excused himself from the table, gathering up his and Pen’s dinnerware before he left, too.

“She won’t talk about it,” Pen said, holding up her hand to stop the barrage of questions about to spew from my mouth. “I’ve asked. She clams up every single time. Actually, I was hopingyoucould get her to spill.”

“Me? She’s been so secretive since your wedding. I thought it was just a fling, but now… I don’t know what to think.”

“One thing I know,” Ant said, walking back into the dining room with us, “is that if anyone can get her to spill, it’s you two.”

“But just to be safe, you’re working on Pete, right?” she asked him.

“Hell yeah.” He laughed. “Pete’s my best friend. I deserve the chance to give him shit about her the way he gave me shit about you.”

“Ant!” Pen shouted, slapping his arm.

“What?” The damn man shrugged so innocently.What, my derriere. The instigator. “But then he muttered, “Turnabout is fair play” under his breath and Pen went to slap him again, but he caught her hand, pulling her onto his lap.

Again, Ant had been with Gretchen, but in love with Pen. None of us knew about his feelings for Pen. It made sense for Pete to think that he needed to just be single for a while.

I looked at Blake. “Children. I swear we’re surrounded by children.”

My husband put his hands up in surrender. “I just married into this. Youchosethis madhouse.”

“But we’re an entertaining madhouse,” Pen said and I didn’t even try to hold back the snort.

The four of us cleaned up after dinner and then the men went outside to start the campfire while we took care of the adult beverages. If we were getting Sierra to spill, we had one surefire way to make that happen:lemon drops—but why did it take three strong, intelligent, adult men to start a campfire? I’d been building campfires since I was like, ten years old.

---