Say I'm Yours (Page 45)

We may still be considered newlyweds, but we’ve been together for a long ass time.

“Don’t tell me the sex is gone this soon into marriage. Zach told me this crap could happen.”

I smack his chest. “I’m worried about breakin’ the equipment.”

“Don’t you worry, there’s plenty of lube in my toolbox.”

“You’re so gross.” I laugh and then look at the target.

Cooper is examining the paper and yells “Grace is the winner!”

“What?” I shriek. “No way!”

“Boom!” Trent yells and points in his brothers’ faces. “Beginners luck! Losers!”

We move on to the other events. Each of the three brothers got to choose two events, and then Mama thought of the tiebreaker. Every event chosen was definitely to give an advantage, only we had no idea the girls would be competing in the one obviously geared for the guys. Now, though, it was chosen by coin toss. Damn Cooper and trying to switch things up.

“Okay, final event, sweetheart.” Trent puts his hands on my shoulder. “We need to win this one.”

“A drink off? You idiots picked an event for who can take the most shots?” I can’t believe these dumbasses. “Can we redo the coin toss?”

“Nope.” Wyatt grins.

“I guess it’s a good thing we did shooting as the first event.”

He nods and beams with pride. “That was by design.”

I’m not drinking. I’m not going shot for shot with freaking Wyatt who has a hollow leg. I’ve been there, done that, got the week-long recovery to prove it. I vowed that I would never be stupid enough to attempt that again. Plus, there are other reasons.

“Well, we are going to forfeit this event.”

“What?” Trent yells. “No way. We’re winning. If we get this event, we beat Wyatt and nothing in this world makes me happier than watching him cry.”

“Nothing, huh?” I ask as I cross my arms. “Not your wife?”

Trent’s expression falls a little. “You know what I mean, darlin’.”

Yeah, that he likes watching his brother in misery. I get it. I like watching Wyatt pout too, but not enough to kill myself for it.

“Trent, I really can’t drink Wyatt under the table on a good day.”

He looks at the amber colored whiskey and then back to me. “I have an idea,” he grins and walks off.

His good ideas usually end in some kind of accident. Like the time he thought it would be easier to spray paint the bedroom instead of rolling it. He failed to tape off the places he didn’t want paint and ended up having to hire two guys to come undo what he did. Then, last week, he thought we pay too much in electric and wanted to build a wind turbine because he saw it on some Alaska survival show. After an hour of trying to get the three wooden poles to stand upright, he quit.

I’m not sure what energy he thought we were going to get from it, there’s no wind.

But, as Mama always says, men are dumb, and we can only say that because we let them continue to try asinine things.

Trent returns with another bottle of whiskey, and now I’m worried. “You don’t think the two bottles on the table are enough?”

He leans in close and hands me the bottle. “Swap that out with the one you’re sitting by, it’s not whiskey.”

“Please God tell me this isn’t your hunting pee jug,” I beg.

He bursts out laughing. “I’ll be right back!”

“Trent!” I call him back. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

“Baby,” he grumbles. “Just drink that and fake being drunk by your third. We all know that’s about all the liquor you can handle.”

That’s not true. “Hey!”

“Gracie, do you remember the wine?”


He leans in and kisses my lips. “I love you no matter how much of a light weight you are.”

I smile and go for another kiss. “I’m not going to be all that light.”

He laughs and misses my hint once again. I’ve been dropping them left and right, but he is either ignoring me, or too oblivious to catch on.

Trent and I have been trying to get pregnant for six months. I was told by the doctor to be patient and understand I’m older and it will be more difficult. Each month, I’ve waited, hoped, and been let down. Trent does his best to comfort me and joke about getting to have more sex, but I see it wearing on him.

Last month, he held me as I cried about all our wasted time. I felt like shit afterward. It’s been a long road for us with mistakes on both sides. I should’ve pushed for what I wanted a long time ago, and he should’ve faced his fears head on.

It doesn’t matter now, though. We’re married, and we both love our life together. Oh, and it finally worked.

“You ready, Grace?” Cooper calls me over.

“Keep your pants on, Townsend,” Trent replies with a grin.

“I wouldn’t want to embarrass you,” Cooper jokes and walks away.

“Yeah right,” Trent scoffs. “Let me know when you hit puberty.”

Cooper flips him off, and I smother a laugh.

Cooper and Trent finally hashed out their issues. I didn’t ask questions, but Presley said Trent came over to thank Cooper not too long after we got back together. She said Cooper respects that Trent talked to him man to man. Since then, there have been big changes at the Townsend ranch with Wyatt becoming part owner. Trent has been there helping on the weekends with the upgrades to the barn.

“You ready, little sister?” Wyatt nudges my arm. “Just you and me. Since Presley can’t throw a tomahawk, it’s between us.”

“And this is the game we ended with?” I ask.

“My partner may have swayed the odds to my favor.”

“We’ll see. Maybe I’ve been training for this event since there was no way I was runnin’.”

Wyatt raises his arms over his head and grins. “I’ve seen you drink . . . I’ll be fine.”

I walk over to the side of the table where my special bottle sits. I’m really hoping this is apple juice.

Cooper goes over the rules, and I wonder if the intention of this tiebreaker was to watch someone break their leg.

“One member from each team was chosen by coin flip. You will each take three shots, stand, turn twice, sit back down, and wait for the air horn. At that time, you’ll run to the tree, collect the cup with the ping-pong ball, and run back. The person to complete the revolution the most amount of times, wins.”

“Really? I can barely walk sober!”

Wyatt sniggers. “I know.”

“Get him, Grace!” Presley yells out.

“Yeah, Aunt Grace!” Logan throws his arm up. “Or I can compete for you?” Zach slaps the back of his head, and we all chuckle. “What? I was being helpful.”

Macie snorts and rolls her eyes. “Don’t let him fool you, honey. Those boys were stealin’ our whiskey at your age.”

“Ma!” Zach complains.

“What? It’s true. You boys thought you were so smart. Little did you know your daddy would water that down. We had the moonshine hidin’ in my closet.”

“All right. Can we not give the already trouble causin’ teenagers anymore hints?” Presley asks.

“We wouldn’t want their uncle to have to arrest them for underage drinkin’.” Trent gives them each a pointed look.

“Yeah, because it’s not like he’d hang out and drink with them.” Wyatt is laughing as he says it but shrugs when Trent glares.

Unreal. They’re all the same as they were twenty years ago. It’s like time froze in their little man brains and kept them as immature teenagers. And then we all married them. I’m starting to wonder who the dumb ones are in this situation.

“All right. Go!” Cooper calls out.

We make it through the first round with me doing shots of apple juice. Wyatt doesn’t seem too fazed, and I’m grateful for so many reasons that it’s juice in my bottle.

On round number three Wyatt starts to show signs of being drunk. Thank God because I’m not faking it that great. By now, I should be on the floor and halfway dead. Nine shots would put me on my ass for a month.

But here I am, being slow, and wobbly off juice.

The air horn blows, and I wait for him to go. I need to appear as if I’m too drunk to get up.

This is so dumb.

Wyatt gets to the table on the other side and grabs his cup. “Come on, Grace! You gonna let a little whiskey slow you down?”

I give it a believable push when I stumble standing and then misstep as I pass him. I hear Wyatt chuckle, and then, thinking he’s won, he throws his drink in the air and screams. The ball flies out, which means he’s lost. All I need to do is bring my cup back.

“You idiot!” Angie slaps him. “If we lose because of this, you’re still getting up with Felicity!”

Wyatt gives her a salute, and I focus on looking drunk. This is a lot harder than I thought. I don’t usually pay attention to what I would do if I was drunk, but from the look on Trent’s face, I need to be more believable.

I get back to the table with my cup and yell. “Ha! I win!” I dance around a little and point at Wyatt. His head is dropped on the picnic table.