I can barely fit in my booth at the Waffle House, yet I refuse to sit at the counter with Dad and Mom. Being that close to the waitress creeps me out. She stares at my coffee cup, desperate to refill it. It’s too much fucking pressure to drink faster just so she has something to do.

“Are you finally going to build your fucking house?” Chipper asks from the next booth where he holds Sierra.

I watch the baby slobber on his shirt and imagine holding one of my own. Am I ready to get soaked by baby spit?

“I ought to wait until Audrey is here to give input. I don’t want her having to adjust to my tastes in the way Tatum and Poet were forced to.”

Hearing her name, Tatum looks up from her food and nods. “I got lucky with my house but poor Poet.”

“Poor, poor Poet,” Mom says, still staring at her plate. “That boy is living in a shabby chic paradise.”

Dad shakes his head. “He knew what he was getting into when he hooked up with Cricket.”

“He didn’t know when he had the one-night stand.”

“Anyone who spends five minutes with Cricket knows,” Dad says with more intensity. “She isn’t subtle.”

“You’re not subtle,” Mom grumbles at him.

I finally realize my parents are fighting. They bitch so much that I can’t always tell when there’s a real battle brewing. Before I can ask them who is at fault—and listen as they both insist it’s the other one—the front door of the Waffle House opens in dramatic flair, and Cricket cries out, “Where is she?”

Walking into the restaurant, she scans the family and then frowns at me. “I must see the woman worthy of an angel.”

“She went back to Kentucky.”

“Ick. Why would anyone willingly leave Tennessee?”

Poet walks in behind his wife and gives the back of her head a death-glare. She must sense it because she leans back and nuzzles his bearded jaw.

“West Virginia is a beautiful shithole, honey.”

Now grinning, Poet hands her Magnus before corralling the mini-twins to their booth next to mine.

“You’re in love,” my niece Minnow says with disdain. “I don’t support more babies in the family.”

Her brother, Murphy, sits next to her and shakes his head in unison with hers. “Two is too many already.”

“We’re not having a baby. Though when we’re ready, we’ll be sure to run the idea by you two first, okay?”

“Seems fair,” Murphy says and hands Minnow a menu.

Cricket sits across from me in my booth. Bouncing her son, she turns so baby Magnus can eyeball baby Sierra. The babies reach for each other with their tiny slobber-covered hands and swap spit. I cock an eyebrow at the gross display of baby affection and realize I’m not ready for a kid. Twenty-four hours of drool and shit diapers—not to mention the fucking crying—isn’t something I crave. Waking up next to a naked Audrey every morning is my only goal for the foreseeable future.

“Tell me about the angel seducer,” Cricket says after ordering breakfast and sticking her drooling son on her breast. “Is she horrible because I originally thought she was when Mom called me?”

I look at Mom who shrugs. “I said nice stuff, but you know how negative Cricket can be.”

My sister frowns at our mom and then at me. I lean forward and whisper loudly, “Mom and Dad are fighting.”

“Don’t worry,” Cricket says and pats my hand. “If they split up, you can live with Poet and me.”

“No,” her husband says with his mouth full of the toast he stole from Chipper’s plate. “He’s too big. No space.”

“Ignore him. My sexy baby is territorial. You should see how he acts when Bianca Bella wags her dick around.”

“Mom,” Murphy admonishes. “Girls don’t have dicks.”

“Sure, they do. The world is a big freaky place. Now stop bugging me while I’m bugging your uncle.”

I enjoy a minor break from Cricket’s inquisition when the waitress brings our food. Digging into my eggs, I hope my sister will be too busy breastfeeding and eating to ask personal questions.

“Is Audrey tall?”

“No.”

“How’s that going to work?”

“I’ll pick her up when we do it against walls.”

Chipper snorts. “Yeah, holding a chick up the entire time ain’t fun, angel-bro.”

“And getting dropped ain’t fun either,” Tatum adds while Mesa braids her mother’s hair with what I assume are syrup-covered fingers.

Cricket and Chipper high-five in honor of his poor sex move. I catch Mom and Dad smirking, but they’re too busy subtly fighting to join in with the antics.

“Why are they pissed at each other?” I whisper to Cricket.

“Well,” she says loudly, “Mom thinks Dad works too hard and Dad thinks Mom works too soft. They did agree how we children need to get off our pampered asses and do more to help Daddy Dickish.”

“That’s not why we’re fighting,” Mom mutters.

“Oh, sorry. I just assume everything revolves around me, and I know how you’re often disappointed in Chip and Angelic Loverboy.”

“We are not fighting,” Dad says before Mom can spill the beans.

“I think it’s about sex,” Chipper whispers so loudly that the windows shake from the sheer volume of his words.

“Do you think Mom can’t lube it up or Dad can’t get it up?” Cricket instantly inquires.

“Why not both?” I ask.

Our parents glare at us in unison. As usual, our bad behavior has brought them closer together. I don’t expect a thank-you basket for our efforts, though. Dad doesn’t believe in sending baskets to anyone except old ladies while Mom doesn’t believe in sending them to anyone. So, sadly, no fruit or candy baskets await me.

“Huh, I guess I could order one for myself,” I mumble while cutting my ham.

“Two days with a woman in your life and you’re already losing your mind,” Cricket says, shaking her head. “Senility hits the Hayes men real quick, doesn’t it?”

“Cricket, shut up,” Dad growls.

“No,” she says without missing a beat. “How old is Audrey?”

“Around twenty-one.”

“That was my age when Poet filled me with his seed.”

Tatum perks up and says, “I was twenty-one when filled with seed too.”

“Seed,” Ridge says and hands his mom his toast because he thinks it’s gross. Since wasting food is wrong, it’s her job to eat the toast.

Tatum immediately takes the slice from her precious son, kisses his forehead, and then hands the bread to Chipper who flings it toward the trash can.

“You missed,” Poet tells Chipper.

“I’ll pick it up on the way out.”

“I ought to make you eat it,” Dad growls.

“Like you could,” Chipper growls back.

Before Dad can make good on his threat, Chipper lifts Dad’s youngest grandchild to remind everyone of her current slobber location.

“Using a baby as a shield,” Dad grumbles. “Pathetic.”

“You pulled that move all the time with Mom when Cappy was a baby.”

“What’s your point?” Dad says and returns to his meal.

Cricket smiles at our parents before laser-focusing her gaze on me. “Did she dump you?”

“She’s moving here this week to be with me.”

“I know. Mom told me.”

“Then why ask?”

“I wanted to see the momentary pained expression on your angelic face when you thought about her ditching you. So precious.”

Ignoring Cricket’s crap, I smile. “Audrey’s a sassy broad. Tough too. She wears brass knuckles. The first day, she hit me with them a few times. If I were a lesser man, it would have fucking hurt.”

“A violent woman. Hmm, I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“You beat up a man the night we met,” Poet says.

“What’s your point?”

“That I like violent women.”

“You saying sexy shit like that is why we have three kids,” Cricket coos, and I wonder if she’ll climb over the booth and hump him before God, the family, and our poor waitress. Instead, she turns to face me. “I want to like Audrey because I know how it feels to meet a man’s family and worry they won’t approve. On the other hand, you’re my baby brother, and no woman will ever be good enough. I think I’ll need to rough up this chick and put her in her place. Will that be a problem?”

“Not at all,” I say and grin. “If you think you can take her.”

Cricket shares my smile while effortlessly switching boobs for Magnus. I can’t imagine Audrey ever acting so casually with a kid. She’s tightly fucking wound, almost freakishly so.

I don’t know if being the baby is different in the Johansson household than the pampering goodness I enjoy. Or possibly Audrey gets swallowed up in Ellsberg. I can’t imagine living here will be any easier with my big-mouthed siblings, parents, and in-laws. Hell, even the kids are snarky ballbusters. For the first time, I genuinely worry Audrey might not thrive in the town I call home.