The Job (Auctioned) by Cara Dee (highly illogical behavior txt) 📕

flicked a glance at Ma and said, “There hasn’t been a proposal or anything. We haven’t even discussed it.”

“You don’t honestly think marriage is the issue here, do you?” she grated, annoyed.

Well, fuck. No, maybe not.

“My bad. I’m just sayin’.” Time to circle back to what Boone had said. “What Boone confirmed is true, though. And I love him too.”

Mom was still upset. She folded her arms over her chest and stared at the ground. “I fuckin’ hate this. I want y’all to be happy, but sweet baby Jesus, you boys are always kicking curve balls straight into my face. I’m your mother. And now you might force me to accept that one of you is no longer my child? I can’t do that.”

I furrowed my brow, confused as shit. “Wait, what? Why would—”

“Well, I don’t know the goddamn law on this, Casey!” she cried out. “Are you even allowed to have a relationship if you’re both legally my sons?”

A big breath gusted out of Boone, and his shoulders sagged. It looked like it was relief rolling off him, though that seemed too soon for me.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” he asked. “Mom—Christ—who gives a shit about a piece of paper? We haven’t looked into things either, but it doesn’t fucking matter. Case will always be your son, irregardless of what happens in official records.”

I grimaced. “Irregardless ain’t a word.”

“Focus, or I swear to God!” he yelled at me.

Both Ace and I jumped in our seats, and she crawled up in my lap.

The regret in Boone’s expression was instant.

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart.” I hugged her and kissed her hair. “He wasn’t yelling at you, you know that.”

“I’m not scared,” she whispered in my ear. “I’m gonna use it against him to get a cat.”

I pressed my lips together in a tight line.

Man, I loved this girl. She had potential. Brilliant mind, though she needed to learn that in a quiet room, even whispers were heard by those nearby.

At least Boone calmed down. He groaned a chuckle and scrubbed his hands over his face.

I scooted closer to him and told Ace to give Daddy a hug. It looked like he needed it.

“You can chill now, Daddy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and patted him on the head.

It was a sweet sight. I smiled to myself as Boone deflated and hugged her back.

When I glanced over at Mom again, I saw that the fight had left her too. The worry lines in her forehead were in full effect and her eyes were brimming with tears, but the anger had evaporated.

I walked over to her and squeezed her to me. “No one can take our relationship away from us, Ma. I swear to you, I’ll always be one of the two sons who give you grief.”

She laughed tearfully and smacked my arm lightly. “Grief and gray hairs.”

“That’s what’s up.” I smiled down at her and hoped everything was okay.

She could probably read my mind. “We’ll be fine, sugar.” She reached up and patted my cheek. “It threw me for a moment.”

I nodded. “I guess we’re good at that.”

“World champions,” she agreed. “One thing’s for sure. I’ll never be bored.”

I chuckled.

Yeah. We’d definitely be fine.

I didn’t know who was the most excited to see Darius that Thursday, Ace or me. Boone loved the man too, but he’d always been closer to Ryan and Jake, and Jake wasn’t with us anymore. He’d died in Afghanistan years ago.

Someone stepped out on the patio, and I looked over my shoulder to see Boone with a big platter of meat. Steaks, chicken, hot dogs, burger patties.

“Darius likes his steak rare,” I reminded him.

“I remember, you fuckin’ fanboy.” He shook his head in amusement and set the meat next to the grill. A new grill. We’d picked it up at Walmart today. Half-off, because some asshole had dented the lid.

The nerve of some people.

Music poured out from the living room, and I would’ve fist-bumped Mom if she’d been out here. She’d put on Cyndi Lauper. It was a mix CD I’d made her, so I knew it went “True Colors” and then “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” While I was hooked on the ’90s, Ma was addicted to the ’70s, but we met in the middle and loved ’80s music together.

She came out next and set a stack of plates in front of me, followed by silverware and napkins.

“You sure you don’t want me to help?” I asked. For the second time. Boone had called dibs on the grill, which evidently meant there was nothing else for me to do.

“No, you just sit there, sugar. I don’t want you ruining the side dishes.” She patted my head on the way back in again. Thanks a lot for the vote of confidence. “You can set the table and fold the napkins!” she hollered in afterthought.

“I guess it’s because you’re a really craptastic cook,” Ace mentioned casually.

I frowned at her and started setting out the plates. “The fuck you saying? You’ve never complained before.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed the napkins. “Heating frozen pizza and popping English muffins in the toaster isn’t the same as cooking, Dad. You’re great at heating up what machines made in a factory.”

Technically, I knew that was criticism, but she’d also called me great at doing what I was already doing.

Boone found her funny. “Don’t hold back, baby G.”

Ace scrunched her nose. “You’re hardly better.”

“Oh-ho!” I laughed.

Finding no support from our girl, Boone turned around and focused on the grill instead. Ace and I moved on too, and we decided to warm up for the barbecue by doing our best Darius impressions.

“Do the one from Easter last year,” I requested. “When he got so mad.”

Ace giggled and repositioned herself in the chair so she sat on her knees. And she puffed out her chest and tried to look all grumpy and stern. She was too fucking cute.

“That’s why you can’t trust the government,” she kinda…growl-scoff-mocked. “You know they’re just gonna grease