“I’m safe. Surely he can’t possibly eat two daddies,” Teddy chimes in.
A panicked look rushes across River’s face, like she’s preparing for how she’s going to wrangle the three boys back in line after this. “You’ve done it now,” she groans.
Frank launches at his dad, scrambling up him like a tree. Honestly, it looks fucking painful. I tip my imaginary hat to Teddy for copping the brunt – not that he looks remotely bothered. Fatherhood suits him; both of them. Granted, I didn’t know either of them before being parents, but Frank’s probably one of the sweetest kids I’ve ever met, and I put that down to him being raised by love. He’s surrounded by it, so much so that there’s no possible way he would know any different. When he isn’t stomping around like a dinosaur, he’s cuddled up to one of his parents, or one of his bonus aunts.
I fondly recall Ella telling me about the first rodeo they attended together. He would have been about two then. River was telling her that he started to walk so late, they thought he was destined to crawl forever. I love that he was stomping around like a dinosaur back then as well; the image burns vividly in my mind.
“So, why are we matching?” I ask, gesturing to the group of men. They look like the cowboy equivalent of a boy band.
“Frank wanted us to be Alvin and the Chipmunks,” Teddy offers with a hearty laugh.
“Well, you sure have the name down at least,” I reply through a grin.
Teddy pokes his tongue out at me, a devilish twinkle lingering in his eye. I can see why River and Jonas fell for him, he’s certainly charismatic.
“Alright pumpkins, let’s get you home before you drive me into aninstitution,” River announces to her trio, rolling her eyes.
“Bye Aunt Hannah, Bye Uncle Link, Bye Abanana,” Frank calls, now flung over Jonas’s shoulder. I will never know how he came up with my name being Abanana, but if that’s what the tiny tyrannosaurus wants me to be, that’s who I’ll be.
Everyone says a quick goodbye, and I find myself walking to the bottle shop, wondering what it’d be like to be loved the way the Carters do. What it would be like to have a family like that. To have a family at all…
“$24.99, thanks, darl,” the cashier tells me, gesturing to the bottle of wine on the counter.
“Throw this one on the tab too would you, Lis,” comes a deep, gravelly voice from behind me. I whirl around, nearly getting whiplash as I strain to look up at the man behind me. Dallas. Fucking. Northlane.
“Stalking me, cowboy?” I question, trying to mask my nerves with unapologetic flirting. Yep, great idea. You’ve already pictured himnaked,and now you’re gonna’ start flirting with the man. Inpublic.
“You wish, jellyfish,” he winks, handing a bottle of whiskey and a crisp fifty dollar note over me to Lisa.
“You are not buying my wine,” I scold.
“Too late, darlin,’” he taunts, playfully tipping my hat as he walks out of the bottle shop.
I grab the bottle and scurry after him, but he’s leaning against my car with a wicked smile on his face and a look in his eye that tells me I’m in trouble. Big. Trouble.
“You busy?” he asks.
“Depends whose asking.”
“Me.”
“Figured.”
“Do you make a habit of busting a guy’s balls for trying to be nice?” he asks, cocking a brow.
“I dunno cowboy, do you make a habit of… ummm…”
“Being incredibly charming, wholesome, and handsome? Dashing even?” he gloats.
“Oh, so you’re familiar with Teddy then?” And she’s back.
“Nice try. C’mon, I wanna show you somethin’,” he says, gesturing to his ute. Which I now realise is parked behind me, and likely was when I pulled up. So what we’ve learned is that I do not pay attention to my surroundings, and this unplanned rendezvous with Dallas could have been avoided.
As I climb into the cab of his ute – bottle of wine in hand – and I find myself grateful that I did not, in fact, avoid Dallas Northlane. I couldn’t even if I tried.
Seven
Dallas