I don't usually wear my pajamas in public, but it's not like it's a big deal or offensive. These guys wear the same clothes for days sometimes. Not Benson, but most of them. And for fuck's sake, have you seen the beards?
"Hey, Lilah," Paul drawls as my uncle talks about who is missing.
He waggles his eyebrows at me, and Benson's fists clench against my middle.
"Hey, weirdo. What's wrong with your eyebrows?" I ask seriously.
Paul's beard sags, and I assume he's frowning, as Benson snorts.
"That was my sexy look," Paul defends.
"Have you seen your face? Any expression is hidden under all that wiry hair. And why the hell are you even trying to shoot me sexy looks, anyway? You don't even like me."
His eyes drop to my legs again, then back up to meet my gaze. "I've changed my mind."
Benson, bless him, tells Paul to fuck off.
"There she is!" Killian snarls, pointing at me like I'm the town's leper.
I'm not gonna lie … I totally back against Benson and squeeze his hands that are covering my stomach, praying he protects me.
What if this turns into a bearded mob?
I like my hair, damn it.
My uncle's exasperated eyes meet mine.
"What were you thinking by interfering in the beard challenge?" he demands.
"There are no rules stating anything about interference," I say, pointing that out. I actually read the rules-yes, there's a list of rules.
"It's an unspoken rule," my uncle chides.
"This is just too entertaining," Liam says quietly from beside us, a grin playing on his lips.
"Well, it wasn't written. So technically, I didn't break any rules."
I still back into Benson even more, simply because my confidence isn't as sturdy as it was on the way over here. I never thought about this coming back on me.
Benson's arms tighten to the fullest extent, cocooning me in false security.
Aunt Penny smirks at me before rolling her eyes.
"I think we should put it to a vote to decide the course of action," Hale suggests, stepping beside my uncle and leveling me with a challenging glare.
"What vote?" Paul asks, bemused.
"To decide if the challenge is really over or not," my uncle declares, and my heart sinks.
I really wanted them to have to swim the lake.
"And to decide if our dear sister has to swim the lake in our place," Killian chimes in, smiling menacingly at me.
My uncle strokes his beard thoughtfully, as though he's actually considering that diabolical excuse for an idea.
"That's actually a good idea. It would give anyone else pause in the future, should they want to interfere as my niece has," my uncle, the traitor, decides.
Several men chatter, thinking it's a good idea.
"Or you could vote that the beard challenge is finally over, then you can all shave your faces and actually get laid," I quickly point out.
This has everyone's attention. Well, everyone who hasn't been getting any because … beard.
Some of them look to be considering it, and I glare at my asshole brothers, who show signs of worry now.
Unfortunately, given the chatter around us, I'm starting to think more people are leaning toward throwing me into the lake and making me swim it. "Fear the beard" starts to take on new meaning.
Even in the summer, the warmest that water gets is still too cold. They'll pull me out before I get hypothermic, but … I'd rather not reach that limit. Obviously.
As if by some divine intervention, five of the prettiest single women in town are suddenly crashing the beard party, and they practically swarm poor Liam. He casts a helpless glance in my direction, but I'm loving this.
It totally helps my cause. And I selfishly take pleasure in his torment.
"I vote we call the beard challenge over and the Vincent brothers swim the lake," Paul immediately chimes in, glaring at Liam as he struggles away from the women.
"I second that," Joey groans.
And the votes continue to fly in. My uncle doesn't look happy about it, and my brothers look even more furious.
"What says you, Benson?" my uncle grumbles.
"I vote the challenge is over. It's been long enough. Besides, they really deserve to swim the lake more than she does."
My uncle glances at me, shakes his head, then turns to my two brothers, who curse me as they walk the metaphorical plank, which is the dock.
They start stripping, and I keep my eyes up, because no sister wants to see her naked brothers. Some things just can't be unseen.
"Someone drive along beside them and pull them out when their lips turn blue if they don't make it across," Uncle Bill says, sighing as though he's devastated.
Liam is quick to volunteer to be the boat driver, and he sprints to his boat, leaving behind the five women.
"Benson, help him out," my uncle says.
Benson seems reluctant, but he releases me, walking out to follow Liam. He lets Liam drive as he takes a seat and shoots me an unknown look. Again, expressions are really hard to read around here because … beard.
Sick of hearing that? Well, I bet I'm sicker of all the unruly beards.
"You're welcome," Aunt Penny says as she joins me.
"You told the girls where to find Liam," I surmise.
"Figured your brothers would put it to that vote. They're decidedly predictable in this instance. A little visual encouragement on your behalf couldn't hurt, so, yes; I told the girls where the pretty bachelor would be."
"Thanks," I say on an appreciative sigh.
"Thank you. As much as I love the beard, I miss Bill's lips," she confesses on a groan.
I laugh as she winks at me. "By the way, Benson seems to be very protective of you. Always has been, but especially so since Liam came into town."
I shrug, trying to be cool. I'm not really sure what the deal is. I was totally into him this morning, but he seemed just as ‘friend-zoned' as always when it came to me. So … yeah.
"I'd hate to ever mess up that friendship," I finally say.
She sighs as though that's the worst answer ever.
"I'm never going to get any babies," she says before moping off.
Sad fact: she wasn't able to have kids of her own. Which is why she always treated us like she was a surrogate mother, which she later came to be. She didn't even hesitate to take in three orphans that most people-even the saints-would have been horrified to face.
Three teenage Wild Ones.
Instead of dwelling on Benson issues-which are weird and untimely-I move to the edge to watch as my brothers yelp when they crash into the cold water. A grin beams across my face when they start swimming as fast as they can.
Pride, of course, has them hoping to make it to the other side of the lake before they have to be hauled out.
Man cards will be deducted authenticity points if they have to be pulled out. And they're Vincents, after all. The dead chipmunk flag flies on our corner for a reason. They have a reputation to uphold.
Benson and Liam follow behind them, and I ignore Paul when he asks me what I'm doing later.
It's just a pair of shorts. I've worn shorts before. Maybe not shorts so thin, but still … he's a weirdo.
I revel in the misery of my brothers as their whimpers echo back to me, and I grin in delight when they start swimming faster. I think I see their teeth chattering.
"My balls! They're trying to burrow up inside my stomach!" Hale groans.
"Mine are too numb to move. I'd better not lose them," Killian gripes.
"I better go get some clothes before they get back and kill me," I say to no one in particular, racing toward my cabin.
Running, though hated, is once again necessary. I quickly pack a few things, panting the entire time, and then dart out to realize … my boat is at Benson's.
My eyes dart over to where my brothers are almost to the other side. Damn, they're fast.
I race back to Aunt Penny's, and I jog inside to go change. And to hide. As soon as I'm done changing, I borrow the keys to her Jeep, and drive to town. Kylie Malone lives in town, and I run the chance of her being home.
Fortunately, her green beaver flag-ha, no, don't make this dirty-is flying, and I blow out a breath of relief as I park and race up her steps.
"You're missing all the fun," I say through her door when I see her walking through her house with paint all over her-per the usual this past year.
"I heard the beard challenge is over!" she says around a cheer. "Dad swung by to inform me this morning. But your brothers are going to kill you."
I push through the door, joining her as she starts to paint a sculpture, and keep all my inner thoughts about Benson to myself.
I fill her in on the near-ice-tits encounter I had this morning, and she listens and laughs at my expense. I love our friendship.