“He’ll figure out that Tori overrode his plan in about two minutes,” Mitch said with his own grin.
“Well, Tori’s the one paying for it,” Fletcher said. “Or she’s the one who convinced Josh, Sawyer, Owen, Maddie, and Bennett to pay for it.”
The Boys of the Bayou owners were also the owners of Boys of the Bayou Gone Wild, so they were the ones ultimately buying the supplies and paying for Mitch, Fletcher, and Zeke’s time building the enclosure.
“I don’t think Tori has trouble convincing Josh of anything,” Zeke said, coming to join them on the slight hill that looked down on the first, and larger, of the two swimming pools for the otters.
No, she did not. But she didn’t have much trouble with the rest of them either.
It helped that Bennett was a millionaire, of course. And that Kennedy also loved the otters. And that Kennedy could also convince Bennett of nearly anything.
The sketches Griffin had done of the enclosure looked like an otter version of a water park. There were slides and ramps and various levels for the otters to climb on. Of course, they were all disguised as rocks and logs and trees and natural formations. The whole thing looked like a chunk of the river bank had been relocated a bit inland and their river—that even had a built-in current—connected two swimming pools.
Otters had never had it so good.
The whole thing was ridiculous.
And very cool.
“This is huge for just a few otters, isn’t it?” Zeke asked.
It was. “I have a suspicion Tori has some plans to expand the otter family size,” Mitch said.
Zeke grinned. “And maybe to more than otters.”
Mitch wouldn’t be surprised.
They discussed a few more of the plans, consulted the sketches, and did some measuring, deciding they could get part of the river dug out and a section of the bank reinforced before dinner.
Mitch, of course, wondered what Paige was doing. When he’d texted her, asking, she’d told him she was fine.
But he was a guy. Who’d heard “fine” from a number of women over the years. Grandmothers, cousins, girlfriends. “Fine” could mean a lot of things.
He’d pressed, and she’d said not to worry. He’d apologized for not being able to get away for lunch, and she’d said it was okay. He’d said he was looking forward to their date-night, and she’d said she was too.
Mitch blew out a breath thinking about it all, even now. Paige wasn’t a texter. He knew that. He’d spent six months frustrated about that. Why did he think that would change now that she was here?
He was far more frustrated that she was only about a mile away, and he still couldn’t see her and didn’t know what she was thinking or feeling.
He’d sensed she was a little nervous this morning about the new job and meeting his family, and… she’d had a right to be. The Landrys were really best dealt with like a shot of homemade moonshine—don’t think about it too hard, take it all in at once to get it over with, and chase it with a beer.
He needed to get the girl a beer. STAT.
“So, you’re really not going to tell us anything about the hot blond?”
Mitch looked at Zeke. His cousin had his long hair tied in a ponytail and a bandana wrapped around his head. His t-shirt was lying somewhere on the hill behind them, and the tattoos that crossed from his chest, to his left arm, then down the left side of his torso, and over his back moved as his muscles bunched.
Mitch and Fletcher gave him and Zander shit about their hair, but Kennedy, Maddie, and the other girls assured them that, while not all guys could pull off the long hair, Zeke and Zander definitely did. The notches in their bedposts absolutely attested to that.
Mitch decided not to pretend to not know what he was talking about. “No, I’m really not going to tell you anything about the hot blond.”
“Been a really long time since a girl slept at your house,” Fletcher said from where he was digging.
It had been never. At least, not in the house he was in now.
He’d inherited the house from his Aunt Sylvie when she’d passed. Most of his family lived in Autre, and most of the family houses had been passed down from older relatives. The Landrys were a founding