Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
“That’s right, Acer,” Thatch mused, completely ignoring his wife’s comment. “Da-da is about to show you one awesome fluffing boom.”
“Boom! Boom!” Ace clapped his hands.
“Am I the only one who feels really nervous about this?” Georgia whispered to all of us after Jude and Thatch walked off the deck and toward the front of the house.
“Nope.” I shook my head on a laugh and looked at Cassie. “Your husband isn’t going to, like, light the lawn on fire, right?”
“This is Thatch we’re talking about. Anything is possible.”
“Cassie! You’re not making me feel any better!” Georgia exclaimed so loud that if it weren’t for the noise-canceling headphones on little Julia’s head, the sleeping baby in her arms would’ve been woken up with quite the start.
Cassie shrugged. “Good thing I wasn’t trying to make you feel better, then.”
“Oh my God.” Georgia sighed and held Julia closer to her chest. “Should we go inside? I feel like we should go inside before shit hits the fan. Let’s—”
“Hit it!” Jude shouted from somewhere behind us, and the opening sounds of the Rocky theme song started to blare from Remy’s Jeep speakers.
And a few seconds later, Thatch and Jude came running out in front of the deck with American flags streaming over their shoulders like capes.
“Fluffing hell,” Cassie muttered. “I knew that big bastard was going to put that stupid shirt on.”
The stupid shirt she referred to was a tight-as-hell tank top that showcased all her husband’s big muscles, and on the front of it, sat a bald eagle in aviators with his wings crossed in front of him and the word ’MERICA written in big, bold letters.
My brother Jude was no better, though. He also sported a tank top, but instead of an eagle, it was Willie Nelson in aviators with the words I’M FEELIN’ WILLIE PATRIOTIC across his chest.
Oh boy.
“Freedom, baby!” Thatch bellowed at the top of his lungs, and when the music switched over to AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck,” both he and Jude lit two handfuls of sparklers and ran down the dock, their American flags blowing in the wind behind them.
“So…Paula, if my husband sets your lawn on fire, please don’t ban me and Ace from your awesome lake house!” Cassie shouted over the music, and my aunt had to force a smile to her lips.
“Of course, sweetheart,” she reassured, but there was a nervous titter to her throat as she looked toward the dock with wide eyes. “I guess it’s a good thing Brad is down there. I mean, he’ll make sure the boys don’t set our dock on fire, right?”
I snorted. “Let’s hope someone down there knows what they’re doing.”
When Bruce Springsteen started singing about being born in the USA, Jude shouted, “Let’s go!” at the top of his lungs, and his voice echoed off the water.
About ten seconds later, the first round of fireworks went off with a loud, thunderous bang. Off the dock and up into the sky, they colored the night in reds and whites and blues.
Lexi stood up and cheered.
“Boo-mmm! Booooo-mmmm!” Ace squealed and clapped his hands.
And all four of us women let out a collective sigh of relief that everything appeared to be going smoothly.
“Okay, it seems like they have it under control,” Georgia commented, and I nodded.
“Yep. All is well.”
“That’s probably because Kline and Wes are down there preventing my husband from doing something stupid like—” Cassie started to say, but she stopped mid-sentence when she noted that Thatch and Jude were getting into a small canoe at the end of the dock. “Wait…what are they doing? Where are they going?”
“No, no, no!” my uncle Brad started shouting and waving his arms in the air as he ran toward the two big men in the canoe.
But they were too quick with the paddles and started rowing out into the middle of the lake.
Kline, Wes, and Brad stood at the edge of the dock, gesturing manically with their hands in the air, but Jude and Thatch were on a fucking mission and refused to turn around.
“They’re not, like, going to shoot fireworks from that canoe, right?” Georgia questioned, and Cassie turned to meet her eyes.
“What do you think, G? Do you think my husband is thinking smart right now, or do you think that big motherfluffer is going out into the middle of the lake to shoot fireworks off a fucking canoe and blow himself up?”
“Oh no.” Georgia’s hand moved to her mouth, and she looked back toward the lake in terror.
“I wish I could say that my brother Jude is a voice of reason, but, uh…”
I paused, and Cassie shut her eyes for a brief moment and finished my thought. “But he’s too much like Thatch.”
“Yeah.” I grimaced. “Pretty much.”
The music from Remy’s Jeep was still blaring, but all of the guys were on the edge of the dock now, trying to get Jude and Thatch to come back.