Crazy (The Gibson Boys #4)(57)

“Yeah,” Lance says. “Mariah would’ve been here too but volunteered to make a bunch of cakes and stuff for the nursing home in town. They were having some birthday month party thing,” he says, unsure. “She got Hadley to help her.

Walker looks at me. “Where’s Dylan?”

“You too?” I ask, raising a brow.

He grins.

“Look, you guys. Dylan and I are just …”

My voice trails off because I don’t know what we’re doing now. I suppose the accurate term would be sleeping together, but that doesn’t feel quite right. That feels … careless. Replaceable. Those aren’t two words I care to place on whatever last night was.

It was a good night of fucking. I know that. I’ll probably go home today, and she’ll act like nothing happened. But as I lay there in the early morning hours with her wrapped around me, her hair in my face and arms tucked around me, it felt like something happened beyond a few amazing orgasms.

It felt like … I wanted to do it again. Not just the fucking, but the rest of it too. And that’s worrisome.

“You and Dylan are engaging in adult activity.” Lance grins. “See, Nana? I said that in a clean, politically correct way.”

“Good boy,” she says.

“Right,” I say, uncomfortable with that description too. “But it’s not like you should expect her here on Sunday afternoons or give her hell when you see her. Okay?”

Machlan plucks out a couple of cashews. “We’d never do such a thing.”

“Right,” I say again as the door behind me opens again.

We all look to see Vincent and Sawyer walk in.

My nephew is a miniature version of his father. He has dark blond hair, crystal-clear blue eyes, and a hefty dose of freckles across the bridge of his nose like Vincent and I used to have when we were younger.

“Hey, Uncle P,” he says, leaning against me as I pull him into a one-armed hug.

“Hey, buddy.”

I look down at him and smile.

I’ve never really understood the feeling I get when I’m around Sawyer. I don’t get to spend enough time with him to know his favorite foods or colors or what he likes to do besides fish. But I do know that if the kid called me at two in the morning for anything, I’d be there. I know I wouldn’t question his bail money if he grows up and does something harebrained like his dad and I did, and if anything ever happened to my brother, I’d take this kid in a heartbeat.

A fuzzy feeling fills my chest as I think for a split second what it might be like to have a Sawyer of my own. To have children and a wife that the rest of my family could ask about and want to see. To have a little blond-headed, maybe green-eyed kid running around, asking me to go fishing too.

I shake my head.

Too fast. Way too fast, Peck.

Nana dabs her eyes with the towel on her shoulder.

“Knock that shit off,” Walker says, pulling her into his side.

“I’m just so happy,” she says. “There are no words to explain the love you have for your grandchildren. I loved your father,” she says, looking up at Walker, “and your mother,” she says, looking at Vincent and me. “But you kids are just something special.”

“Well, we think you’re something special,” Sawyer says.

I pat his back. He looks up at me and smiles.

“You wanna tell her?” Vincent looks down at his son.

Sawyer stands tall. “Nana, guess what?”

“I don’t know. What?”

“Dad and I were talking today. And we made a decision.” He rubs his bottom lip with the side of his finger, a habit of his father’s.

Vincent watches Sawyer proudly. I see why. This little dude has the confidence of a kid twice his age, and he’s definitely got Vincent’s swagger.

Vincent is definitely fucked.

“Well,” Machlan prods. “What’s happening?”

“We figure maybe we’ll stick around.” Sawyer looks at his dad and smiles. “We kind of like it here.”

Nana’s eyes fill with tears again. Her arms spread open. “Come here and give your Great Nana a hug.”

Sawyer struts across the kitchen and falls into her arms. She kisses his head, wiping her eyes with her towel.

“Yeah,” Vincent says. “I figure I’ve done a thorough search of the counties down there for a stepmom for Sawyer. I need some new options.”

Nana fires him a look. “Don’t talk that way in front of him.”

“Why?” Sawyer looks up at her. “I need a stepmom. The right stepmom,” he insists. “This kid I go to school with—his name is Pete. Well, Pete’s dad got remarried in a hurry, and his stepmom is a nightmare. So if Dad needs to take his time in picking one, I’m okay with that.”

Nana looks relieved. “That’s right, sweetheart. Your dad is just being cautious.”

Sawyer walks toward me with a mischievous look on his face. “I’m not dumb,” he whispers when he gets to me.

“You little shit,” I whisper back.

He laughs. “Can I go outside and check out the treehouse before we eat?”

Walker nods. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

“But dinner is ready,” Nana says.