I whined, when it was clear I didn't have nearly enough strength to win the stupidest arm-wrestling match ever. "Or like, accidentally call Hinton a whore." I gasped when Hinton leaned around Grant, a smirk tilting up one side of his mouth. "Oh my God." I smacked myself in the forehead, before leaning closer. "I'm so sorry. I swear I'm better at talking when I'm not nervous, and I actually know you're not a prostitute… though, obviously, I'd be fine with it if you were."
Hinton giggled, his eyes twinkling as he brought a finger up to his lips. "Sh. Don't tell Wagoner I'm not a hooker. I like that he isn't quite sure if I am or not Why are you nervous?"
"I just want everyone to like me."
"Everyone already does," he said brightly, just as Grant hugged me hard from the side, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
"Are you sure?" I asked anyway, biting my lip.
"Well," Mark Foster said, his head suddenly just appearing next to mine. "All we really know about you right now is that you masturbate for money, you could very well have some kind of eating disorder, and it looks like you're trying to hold in a fart… or a butt plug, but if you loosened up a little, I bet we'd all like you well enough."
"You'd probably feel a little better too," Hinton said, smiling sweetly.
"You know I don't actually have to fart, right?" I asked to make sure. I'd only been here about twenty minutes, but I could already tell this was the type of group you had to be very clear with.
"Okay," he said winking.
Why's he winking?
"You're late," Mark yelled next to my head, making me gasp and nearly choke to death on the roll I still hadn't managed to get fully chewed and swallowed.
"I know," a very handsome, but serious man grumbled, as he plopped into a chair across the table from us.
Mark paused, narrowing his eyes on the man before standing. "You're never late."
"Well, I am today, Da."
"Ooo. You're in a bad mood too," Wagoner said, reaching over and poking him in the side of the face. "This is new, Cashin."
Cashin swiped at Wagoner's hand, making the man snatch it back, cackling. "I'm not in a bad mood."
"Maybe he's trying to hold in a fart," Hinton suggested.
"I fawt," Riley's nephew, Casey, yelled… before pushing out an actual fart, that had all the kids laughing along with Wagoner.
"Bess you," Ricki said sweetly, reaching over to pat his best friend's back, and I laughed.
"See," Wagoner said, smiling brightly. "Just let it rip Cashin… and Bates."
"I don't need to fart," Cashin snapped, glaring over at his brother.
I raised my hand. "Me neither, actually."
"Awden fawt," Casey informed us, pointing over at one of the two younger boys, just as Arden used his mouth to make a very fart-like sound.
"Yes, Arden farts a lot," Jennings said dryly, elbowing Wagoner when he laughed at the kid.
"Bess you," Ricki told Arden.
"If you're not bound up, then what the hell is your problem?" Wagoner asked, leaning close to his brother again, which Cashin didn't seem to appreciate, if the hand to the center of Wagoner's forehead and the shove were anything to go by.
"I was at Maddox's house before I came here."
"Oh," Kent said, nodding before blinking. "And Maddox is?"
"My client. He was born with a deformity of the legs that could have been corrected with braces when he was still really young, but since his mom was in and out of jail, he was passed around between his family a lot, and he didn't get the proper care, so he has to use arm crutches to walk, and sometimes a chair. He's actually really self-reliant, but sometimes he just needs a little help with stuff at home, especially when he's tired. He doesn't have any family, and his boyfriend is a fucking prick."
Mark leaned forward across the table, his voice dropping to a somewhat terrifying growl I wouldn't have expected from a man his size. "What do you mean?"
"He treats Maddox like shit. Maddox is gold and always lets it roll off his back, but I can tell it bothers him."
"What kind of things does he do?" Mark asked, drawing Devon, his husband's attention away from the babies.
He rose slowly, watching his omega as he moved around the table.
"Easy, Da," Cashin said, cringing. "He's not physical… that I've seen. He just says these snarky-ass comments. Maddox can use his arm crutches most of the time, but when he