Fries Before Guys (SWAT Generation 2.0 2)

“…dare.”

Smiling wide, Avery turned the camera on the two of us.

Dax moved so that he was no longer touching me, leaving Rowen within arm’s length.

I moved before she could think better of her position, then wrapped my other arm around her, too.

Both of my sisters groaned.

“I hate you.” Katy laughed, pressing her palm against the side of my face and shoving me away.

“I’m pretty sure you just ruined my phone,” I told her. “So you could stand to be a little nicer right now.”

Katy snorted. “You had that coming and you know it.”

“What did you say?” Rowen looked up at me.

I looked down at her and lied right through my teeth.

“I told her that I was considering rejoining the military, Marines this time, and she pushed me into the pool,” I said.

Katy snorted. “Actually, he told me that I was fat.”

“Derek!” Rowen admonished. “That’s not nice.”

“I was joking,” I promised. “I don’t really think she’s fat. It was just too perfect of an opportunity to pass up.”

“All right, parents out. Husbands out. Only the wedding party.”

The parents and the ‘husbands’ left, leaving only my sisters, Harleigh and Dax.

“How do you want us?” Dax asked, standing two feet away from Rowen in the hopes that he didn’t get wet, either.

“Where you are but claim your bride back,” Avery said. “Derek, stand behind everyone else so we can’t tell you’re wet.”

I did as I was asked and posed like a nice boy for the photos.

I started to get bored, though.

And hot.

Even with it being February, it was hot.

It was always hot in Texas, though.

Honestly, I was surprised the pool felt as good as it did.

Which made me wonder if it was heated.

Though it was hot today, it’d been cold the last week. Meaning it shouldn’t be as warm as it was without a little help from a heater.

“All right. Only the bride and groom,” Avery called.

Katy went to step away from me, but I tightened my hand around her shoulders.

“Derek Roberts, don’t you—”

I jumped back into the pool, taking Katy with me.

She screamed all the way down.

***

Two hours later, I was in jeans, a t-shirt, and boots, staring at Avery as she tried and tried to get her car started to no avail.

I walked up to her car and tapped on her window, causing her to squeak in surprise and whip her head up and around to face me.

“Battery’s dead,” I said to her. “It’s clicking?”

Avery nodded.

“Battery,” I confirmed. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home. I don’t have a jumper box on me, and everybody’s already gone.”

“I…” She started to deny it, but I shook my head.

“Come on,” I repeated myself. “I have a cake melting in my truck.”

She sighed and got out, pissed as all hell that she was having to get a ride home from me.

How did I know this?

Because she told me.

Multiple times as she marched her way to my truck.

“Why do you have the cake?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Did your sister take the top layer?” Avery asked.

I shrugged again as I held the door to my truck open for her. “I don’t know.”

She growled in frustration. “Is there anything you do know?”

I slammed the door closed and walked around to the driver’s side, getting in and starting it up without a problem.

“I know that you’ve been spitting mad at me since I turned you down for a date,” I said. “And I was right to do it. You’re young, Avery. Not even out of high school yet. And I like my face arranged exactly like it is, thank you very much.”

Avery snorted. “Whatever. I was just being nice.”

I decided not to say a word about that.

She wasn’t ‘just being nice.’ She had the hots for me just like I had the hots for her.

The only difference between the two of us? She wouldn’t get her ass kicked for touching me. I couldn’t say the same for myself.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Avery asked conversationally, her fingers playing with the hem of her dress, moving it further and further up her legs with each gentle tug.

I looked away and focused on driving as I said, “Yeah, it wasn’t bad for a wedding. Did you enjoy it?”

She nodded, then yawned. “Even though I have the SATs in the morning. It was worth it, though. I adore shooting weddings. They’re one of my favorites to focus on.”

“What’s your absolute favorite?” I asked curiously.

She looked over at me, then quickly looked away as she studied the lights as we drove by them.

“I like shooting everything,” she admitted. “But my absolute favorite to shoot is a little morbid.”

I frowned. “What?”

“I like to take photos of memorial stuff,” she said. “Like at my father’s funeral. My most shared photo on my Facebook is a picture of my father’s coffin draped in the flag. I liked taking the photos of the women getting handed the flag after their husband died. Stuff like that.”