Grin and Beard It(81)

Not missing a beat, Sienna asked, “How do you make it? Do you bake it?”

“No way. The heat isn’t right. In order for the sausage to mature, it needs the right type and application of heat. It needs heat on all sides, and wet heat is best.”

“You are the worst,” Billy said, though his mouth hitched on one side.

“This joke never gets old.” Jess was now laughing so hard she’d gripped her stomach, tears leaking from her eyes.

“It does when you have to hear it every month for ten years,” Duane complained, but couldn’t quite manage a scowl.

“My sausage is no joke.” Cletus frowned, wagging his finger through the air like we were all juveniles.

“So you grill it,” Sienna supplied, moving the conversation back on track.

“That’s right.”

“Good.” She nodded once, sounding thoughtful. “In that case, I insist you taste my thighs and breasts.”

These words, so calmly and earnestly spoken, rendered us all speechless.

Even Cletus.

I do believe we stared at Sienna in a collective state of paralyzed suspension, no one quite knowing how to react to her offer.

I felt her shoulders shake, so I shifted to the side, wanting to catch her expression. Her irresistible dimples flashed in full force and she giggled as she explained, “I have a great mojo chicken recipe. We can grill the chicken and sausage together.” Then to Cletus she said, “It’ll help with the wet heat.”

I looked to the heavens, hidden by the porch ceiling. “God, thank you for sending me this woman.”

Meanwhile, Cletus blinked once as though startled, but then a slow grin spread over his typically solemn features.

Beau, holding his hand over his heart, took the bait. “Sienna, I would be honored to taste your thighs and breasts.”

I shot him a warning glare. “Don’t you say that to her.” But I couldn’t keep my face straight either.

“What? What did I say?” Beau tried to sound and look affronted. “I was talking about her chicken. Obviously.”

Cletus’s grin had grown into an immense smile as his gaze moved over my woman with plain appreciation. “Well played, Ms. Diaz. Well played.”

In fact, everyone was either smiling or laughing. I glanced at each of my younger brothers and my sister, trying to remember the last time we’d all been together and laughing. Last Christmas came pretty close. Before that, it had been a few days before our momma died. She’d requested we tell her jokes, so we did our best to be funny for her.

This was different.

Different because no one was on their best behavior. No one was pretending for the sake of the others. Every one of us were just ourselves. We were enjoying each other and our growing family—Drew, Jess, and now hopefully Sienna.

I couldn’t help but think it was a perfect moment.

And then, as usual, when things were better than good, I couldn’t help but think I didn’t deserve to be a part of it.



“I have to admit, I was hoping you’d take me to Hawk’s Field or Jess and Duane’s love nest,” Sienna said on a sigh as soon as we pulled onto the gravel circle around Bandit Lake.

Her words put a smile on my face. “I could turn around.”

Sienna sighed again. “No. I have an early flight tomorrow. I have to be up and at the airport by 4:00 a.m.”

“Where are you going?” I knew she had a trip as I’d overheard people on set talking about her leaving for the weekend.

“I have a meeting in L.A. about a script I finished a few weeks ago. They’re already moving forward with the casting. It’s a quick trip, I’ll be back on Sunday night.” She frowned at Hank’s place as we pulled into the drive. “Will you call me? While I’m gone?”

The edge of vulnerability I heard made me want to hold her close and reassure her with slow, deliberate kisses. Problem was, if I held her close I’d be telling myself a few kisses weren’t enough. I’d want a taste of her breasts and thighs, and I wasn’t referring to her mojo chicken recipe.

“Of course.” I slid her an easy smile, then handed her my unlocked phone. “Type in your number.”

I walked around the truck to her door as she programmed her contact info. When I opened her door, she took my hand and allowed me to help her down, entwining our fingers and keeping hold of my phone.

“We need someplace with good light,” she said distractedly, frowning at the darkness of early evening. “Come up here on the porch.”

I let her tug me behind her and lead me up the stairs. She was on a mission and from my place behind her I was graced with a great view of her ass and legs. With each swish of her skirt I was reminded that her stockings ended halfway up her thighs. And that reminded me of touching her skin.