I Pucking Love You (The Copper Valley Thrusters #5) - Pippa Grant Page 0,23
dings three more times with my car stereo unable to announce who’s texting before another incoming text arrives.
“It’s normal.”
“This many messages is normal?”
“Yep.” Only sometimes. Like when the twins were both having tonsillectomies basically one after another. Or when we found out Brit was having twins. And when West accidentally co-inherited a baby with Daisy last year. And when my dad was in the hospital for kidney stones while Mom was on an East Coast tour and I had to take him to the hospital and Mom wanted updates of the funny stuff to use in her show, and so my sisters started making shit up.
Muffy holds my phone to my face.
“I can’t look when I’m driving. It’s fine. It can wait.”
“Just needed your pretty mug to unlock it with facial recognition. Holy crap. Are these bunnies? Do you have a group text with bunnies?”
I snatch the phone out of her hand, because I do have a group text with Athena and Cassadee, who are giving me unwanted but probably necessary advice.
Yes, I told them I was going out of town with a woman I was interested in.
No, they didn’t have any advice I plan to take.
“They’re my sisters,” I tell Muffy, “and whatever it is they’re up to, neither of us need to know. If it’s an actual problem, my brother will—”
“Incoming call from Westley Snore-Man Jaeger,” my car system announces.
Fuck.
If there’s an actual problem, my brother will call. And there he is, right on time.
I hit the button on my steering wheel to answer. “Not alone, West. What’s up?”
My brother’s voice comes over the line. “Javi had a vasectomy Friday and ended up in the ER overnight with complications.”
Muffy stifles a cough, but when I glance at her, she looks more horrified than amused.
“He’s fine now,” West adds. “Staci’s leading the charge on the broken balls jokes. But I thought you’d want to know. Plus, someone’s starting a pool on how long before you and I get fixed.”
“Did I mention I’m not alone?” Talking to West about my brother-in-law’s vasectomy complications in front of Muffy is exactly what I want to do this morning.
Jesus.
She’ll think all of us have broken dicks.
The bastard chuckles. “Hello, Tyler’s friend.”
“Ty’s with a friend?” Daisy’s voice carries through in the background as Muffy says a tentative hi back. “Like a woman-friend? Or do I need to set him up with—”
“I’m hanging up on both of you now,” I announce.
“Mom’s taking donations for a care package,” West says.
He audibly stops himself like he’s realized what he just said.
I pinch my lips together.
Muffy snorts. “He said package,” she whispers.
West coughs. “We take care of all of the packages in need in this family.”
Jesus. Thank fuck he doesn’t know what’s up—or not—with my equipment. “Goodbye, Westley.”
“Send Mom money, crankypants.”
“Is there actually a point to that?” Considering Daisy’s net worth and how much she loves to do random acts of kindness, I suspect Javi’s balls are in good hands.
Figuratively speaking.
“Daisy’s forbidden from contributing. So, yes,” West replies.
“I’m doing my own thing,” Daisy calls.
“Do I want to know?” I ask my brother.
“Don’t ever have complications from a vasectomy,” he replies.
I kill the call, then hit the power button on my phone as I steer us out of the neighborhood.
Muffy and I both don’t say anything for an entire block.
I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I know what I’m thinking.
If my sisters find out my dick doesn’t work, they’re gonna send it a damn care package. And I don’t think I want to know what would be in it.
Nor do I want to know what extra-special thing my creative, rich, no-filters sister-in-law would do separately.
“Who’s Javi?” she finally asks.
“Brother-in-law.”
“Is he—”
“If he wasn’t going to be okay, West would’ve said so. He’s Mr. Responsible. All-business. All the time.” Probably not all the time, though, now that he’s married to Miami’s biggest ray of partying sunshine. She has a ball pit room in her mansion. With trampolines.
I glance at my crotch.
Still no movement. Normal, though. My brother’s sex life doesn’t usually do it for me.
It’d be nice to fantasize about my own sex life and get a boner though. I’d take that.
Muffy shifts in her seat and looks at me. “So, yeah, my childhood was pretty normal.”
I cut a glance at her.
She grins.
And I cede the point.
Given all the things I’ve heard my sisters say at the dinner table over the years, I have no room to judge Hilda. If my childhood was normal, then so was Muffy’s.