Bold(3)
And that was Devon in a nutshell. Easygoing, but when one of his sisters was threatened, that even-tempered demeanor flew out the window. Reece was usually in the vicinity to assist with the fallout. It didn’t help that Katrina and Heidi were developing along the same lines as Tabby. Devon definitely had his hands full.
Hell. Even Reece felt overprotective when it came to the girls, but lately Tabby—
“And what if I want to be ravished?” She shoved a napkin and a slice of pizza out of the box into Reece’s hands. “Both of you have to stop thinking of me as a child.” Her glare turned icy. “Don’t forget last month I turned twenty-one. I plan to make the most of this festival and I don’t want you interfering.”
Yikes. That didn’t sound good. If anyone could stir up trouble, it was the missy standing before him. Steadying his drink on a rung of the ladder, he placed the napkin and pizza beside it before he jerked off his gloves and shoved them in his back pocket. Then he picked up the beer and took a chug. The ale flowed smoothly down his parched throat, and then he released an “Ahhh. Thanks, Tabby.”
“Welcome.” Her actions were short and angry as she reached for another beer and wrenched the cap open. Before her brother could interject, she took a quick swig.
“Tabby.”
“Back off, Devon,” she growled. With a flick of her head, she tossed her thick black mane of hair over a shoulder.
“I’m just saying it’s too early for you to be drinking,” he muttered, taking another bite of pizza.
Her neatly plucked brows rose so quickly Reece half expected them to touch her hairline. To make a point, she held the bottle to those luscious lips and tipped the beer. Watching her throat muscles move up and down put shameful thoughts in his randy head.
What else could she do with that wicked mouth?
As if she read his mind, she widened her lips, taking the bottle deeper and chugging until not a drop of alcohol remained.
Devon scowled. “Fuck. Tabby. Did you have to do that?”
When she reached for another beer, Reece jutted his hand out, catching her wrist. “Darlin’, you’ve made your point.” The last thing he needed was for this little piece of dynamite to get even more audacious.
“Foolish lad.” Harold Adair smirked, his bushy gray eyebrows furrowing. The young man didn’t have a shot in hell against Tabatha Taylor. He raised his glass and sipped the amber liquor with satisfaction. Nothing like a shot of rum on a brisk afternoon to get the blood circulating.
“Wha’ya gabberwocking about?” Errol Wilson knocked his cane against Harold’s wooden chair. He shook his head, looking across the red-and-white-checked tablecloth toward their friend, Byron Mitchell.
Bryon straightened his tall, slender frame against the back of his chair. His gnarly arthritic fingers circled a half-empty glass of rum and brought it to his lips. “He seems to be talkin’ to himself more and more these days.”
They both broke into gales of laughter.
It was a beautiful day to be sitting outside of the rustic Seafarer, Harold thought, and watch the festival come together with his two best friends and partners in crime. The trio had been dubbed Whispering Cove’s matchmakers extraordinaire by the locals because of the success they had had with getting their own grandchildren hitched. Another bet was in the air and Harold planned to win it.
The rich buttery aroma of popcorn popping in a vendor’s machine down the street joined the scent of fried shrimp and hushpuppies from his half-eaten plate of food. He rested his hands on his full, rounded belly.
“Shut your traps.” He cocked his full head of gray hair in the direction of the local construction workers erecting a booth. “Take a gander over yonder and watch me girl at work.”
A couple of minutes ago, Tabatha Taylor had approached Reece McGrath while he was atop a ladder. When the lad looked down at the sexy lass, he misstepped, nearly losing his grip. Tabatha’s impressive cleavage could do that to a man, even an old fool like him. He chuckled beneath his breath. If his old eyes weren’t deceiving him, McGrath appeared paralyzed as he watched her demolish a beer with an expertise that surprised even Harold.
“Damn shame that little chickadee dropped out of college.” Byron’s lips parted into a smirk. “Still, a smart choice on your part, Harold. Looks like Errol will be buyin’ the rum for the next month.”
Errol grumbled something unintelligible.
This year’s bet hinged on getting couples hooked up, not necessarily married. Still, Byron’s couple looked as if they were on their way down the aisle. Hauk Michealson and Victoria Hayes had been an excellent choice since they had a history together and a joint interest in Hauk’s little girl. Of course, he wasn’t so sure about Errol’s couple. Adam, the local love-’em-and-leave-’em fireman, and the sweet schoolteacher, Josie Wells, were polar opposites.