Page 108 of The Fine Art of Faking It
Groans and maybe some dramatic gagging sounded throughout the entire first floor of the house.
* * *
“Wouldyou think less of me if I took my pants off right now?” Eden asked Davis.
Davis was behind the wheel after losing the coin toss. To be fair, he hadn’t lost. He’d just been too full to bend over and look at the coin.
“I unbuttoned mine two hours ago,” Davis told her as he steered them toward the inn. “Took my shoes off too. Can overeating make your feet swell?”
“What about naked Thanksgiving sex?” Eden asked, shimmying out of her jeans. “Ahhhhh.”
“Still happening,” Davis insisted grimly. “I’m a man of my word. I deliver what I promise.”
Right now, the only thing less appealing than getting naked and bouncing around was the leftover pie that had been foisted on them. Phoebe gave them two to take home. Eden planned to serve them to her guests tomorrow morning for breakfast with fresh juices from OJs by Julia.
Davis eased the car down the lane. Jax and Joey’s foursome were illuminated in the headlights as they walked home.
“Besides the obscene amount of food, that was actually kind of nice,” Eden ventured.
“They make family life look… fun,” Davis agreed.
“Yeah. They do,” Eden agreed with a heavy sigh.
“What’s that? Is that a dog?” he asked, pointing at a pair of yellow eyes reflecting the car’s headlights.
Eden peered through the windshield. “Is that a goat?”
One minute the shadowy figure was hunkered down behind the tree, and the next it was jogging into the midst of Jax’s family.
“No! Bad goat!” Jax’s high-pitched screech rattled the car windows.
Davis braked hard, and Eden’s seatbelt locked against her.
They watched as the goat danced into the headlights leering at Jax. Reva and Caleb doubled over with laughter.
“Ha! You Satanic son of a bitch!” Jax shouted yanking something from his coat pockets. “That’s right, Clementine! I came prepared. Cornbread!”
Jax wound up like a major league pitcher and tossed what did appear to be cornbread into the field.
Clementine stared him down as if plotting his goat-trampling death.
“Oh, this isn’t good,” Eden breathed, smothering a laugh behind her hand.
“Get out of here, Clementine,” Joey said, howling with laughter. She stepped between her husband and the offending farm animal.
The goat weighed its options. Cornbread? Or Jackson Pierce’s pants?
“She still wants to eat you, Jax,” Caleb giggled into his mittens.
“Should we get out and help?” Davis asked.
“I can’t outrun a goat right now.”
“Shoo,” Joey said, holding one hand over her full-to-bursting stomach and waving the other at the goat. “Go on. Leave him alone this one time.”
Clementine feinted to the right and dodged left, getting within biting distance before Joey blocked her.
“You told me you were going to untrain her!” Jax reminded his wife.
