Page 33 of Rootbound
“BTS? Like, the band?”
“Better Than Sex—but, color me impressed.”
“Ahhh, that makes more sense. And sounds like her.” I laugh before I grab one and take a bite.
“Holy shit,” I say, still chewing.
“Right?!” Grady says, nodding like he knows the taste-gasm happening in my mouth. “There’s something to do with brown butter and chocolate and oats. Henry’s the only other person in the family who she’s taught the recipe to.”
I turn around and frown at Henry, who shrugs at me innocently. For some reason he’s never struck me as a dessert kind of man. And imagining him using those biceps for baking makes my brain short circuit.
I inhale the rest of the cookie, a moan escaping me when I bite into a second.
A crash sounds from behind me and I turn to see Henry picking up a tray and some BBQ tools.
“Steaks should be ready. Don’t spoil your appetite,” he grumbles, annoyed, and then stalks out to the patio.
Grady throws me a conspiratorial look. “What is with you guys?”
“Nothing at all. The guy barely started being cordial to me.”
“Lies. You look at his face how I look at these cookies.”
“He’s like seven feet tall. I’m not even convinced that I’ve seen his face.”
“Uh-huh. Anyway. We typically convene down here on Wednesday nights for dinner and game night. You should join us while you’re here!”
“Who’s we?” I ask warily.
“Me, Emma, Lucy when she’s in town, Caleb when he’s not working. Sometimes Auntie LeighAnn. Wednesdays were always my mom and dad’s date night growing up.”
I nod and smile, grabbing my beer from the counter. It’s, again, an unidentifiable feeling imagining a family unit—one that I might’ve belonged to once—with traditions and game nights and marriages with date nights… noise and laughter and annoyance. Love and companionship… I shake it off quickly.
“What games?” I ask.
“Anything, really. We usually stick to cards. When it’s nice out we’ll do yard games. Tonight I’ve brought Yahtzee.”
Henry walks in with the steaks and lets out a groan.
“If you’re trying to get her to come back I would save Yahtzee for another time,” he says, setting down the food and grabbing another cookie. He manages to toss the wholething back and there’s something explicit about it. My stomach dips.
“Yahtzee? Really?” The game that takes no skill whatsoever.
The game that takes no skill whatsoever is apparently the one that brings out the worst in everyone because Grady has won every round, and it’s clear that Henry and I both are hating it. Dinner was delicious—the cookies are all gone but one. The combination of full bellies, sugar highs, and mild buzzes have us all turning the volume and competition up.
“Where’s Mrs. Logan?” Henry asks Grady.
Grady looks down at his phone. “Huh. I guess she isn’t feeling great.” He continues to frown after he puts his phone away. “Okay! How about ‘Impossible Questions’ since Grandma can’t join us?” He then pivots, rubbing his palms together menacingly.
Henry grunts. “Grady, aren’t we too old for that game?”
“You know that we’re absolutely not. Okay, Tait, you up for a drinking game?”
“Ummm, sure? Anything beats Yahtzee,” I say with a shrug. Fucking Yahtzee, stupid, useless, mindless game.
Grady claps once before he gets up and goes to fetch something from the buffet, vibrating with excitement. Henry looks at me in a way that can only be described as “you asked for it” before Grady launches into his intro.
“The game is only fun ifyouare fun. It’s very similar to ‘Do or Drink,’ but with our own spin on it. The object is to ask an impossible question in one of three categories: ‘thisor that,’ ‘yes or no,’ and ‘vote.’ You’ll draw a card and depending on the category, pick a person and a question that fits in that category. You have to come up with the impossible questions for ‘this or that’ and for ‘yes or no,’ but the ‘vote’ cards have pre-written dares on them. Example round.” He picks a card. “I’ll pretend this is a ‘this or that’ card. Henry, Belle or Murphy? You have five seconds.” He mock whispers over to me, “Murphy is his horse.”