Page 7 of From the Start
“And this time,” Rhett grumbles. “You won’t get into the paint. We spent two hours bathing the girls after the previous time you babysat.”
I hold up my hands. “It wasn’t my fault. Pearl conned me.”
Dakota narrows her eyes at me. “My five-year-old daughter conned you?”
“She’s a genius. She convinced me you said it was okay.”
She shakes her finger at me. “No paint and no glitter.”
“What about confetti?”
“Don’t make me phone Harper and tell her you wet the bed until you were ten.”
“I did not wet the bed until I was ten. You’re devious.”
She smirks. “You have to be devious to fit in with this family.”
Rhett kisses her cheek. “You fit in with this family just fine.”
Miles grins at her. “I approve of this devious side.”
She points to the door. “Good. Because if you don’t get back to your office and answer the phone – it’s been ringing off the hook all morning – I’m going to hide all of your surfboards.”
Miles loves his surfboards more than he loves this family. He planned to become a professional surfer, but a rotator cuff injury during a competition in Hawaii ruined those dreams.
“I never wanted a sister anyway,” he mutters as he marches away.
When Dakota aims her gaze at Zane, he rushes for the door. “On my way to my office.”
“No more pranks in the distillery,” she shouts after him. “Jaxon will get mad, and he’ll complain to Blossom, and I’ll never hear the end of it. But I can’t complain. Apparently, I have to allow my best friend to vent as often as she wants.’
“Jaxon approved this prank,” I tell her.
She widens her eyes. “What did you do?”
I open my mouth to answer but she holds up her hand before I can speak. “Never mind. I’ll find out from Blossom.”
Rhett nods to the confetti and glitter. “Get this cleaned up.”
“Why do I have to clean it up? It’s not my mess.”
He doesn’t answer. He waves as he leads Dakota out of my office and down the hallway.
Typical. The youngest always gets stuck with the chores no one else wants to do. As I clean my office, I plot my next prank.If Zane and Miles think they can win the prank war, they have another thing coming.
Chapter 3
“I just needed a box of Fruit Loops.” ~ Harper
Harper
Igroan as I pull into the grocery store parking lot. It’s packed. I shouldn’t have waited until Saturday afternoon to do my groceries, but it’s the first opportunity I’ve had all week.
And I can’t wait any longer. Dad nearly lost his mind when there was no Fruit Loops cereal for breakfast this morning. A grown man shouldn’t be eating Fruit Loops but you try arguing with my dad about it. I’ve given up.
I manage to squeeze my car into a spot at the rear of the parking lot. It may technically be a spot for a motorcycle but if the car fits, does it matter?
I open the door and am immediately assaulted with loud music. This is Smuggler’s Hideaway. There’s always some festival or celebration happening. But it usually isn’t this loud. And there usually aren’t screaming women.
