Moonshine makes Mom and Pop super friendly. They are all smiles by the time Hayes reveals leftover ribs and potato salad. Like stoners, they pig out until exhausted.

Mom and Dad end up crashing in my room while Hayes and Candy shuffle to theirs. Possibly, the drunks are fucking rather than sleeping, but no way am I checking to be sure.

“Now what?” I ask after the parents leave.

“Obviously, we play charades,” Cap says, and Chipper nods as if this step was never in doubt.

I team up with Cap. Mesa demands she and Ridge stay together, leaving Chipper and Tatum to join forces.

Cap is absolutely horrible at miming, and I can’t figure out most of what he’s trying to tell me. Despite that fact, we crush Mesa and Ridge who don’t seem to know what the hell the game entails and continually yell out stuff to each other.

“Too bad you didn’t have to mime nose-picking,” Cap teases Mesa.

“You eat poop!” she yells, clearly temperamental after losing. Pointing at me, she adds, “Her poop!”

Gasping, I lean closer to Mesa. “Hey, that was a secret between you and me.”

Even irritated, Mesa can’t fight a smile. She climbs on Chipper’s lap and claims we all cheated and Ridge is the only winner. Her brother burps and waves away the smell.

“Ribs,” he says.

Chipper winks at his son. “Yep, that’ll happen.”

Cap wraps an arm around me. “Can’t wait for our kid to burp and identify the smell for us.”

“I know this is you being sarcastic, but you’re the guy who argues with a six-year-old over who most enjoys eating boogers. Let’s not pretend identifying stinks is below you.”

Laughing, Cap kisses the top of my head. “You know I’ll be the one who teaches them that crap too. I’m the absolute worst.”

Mesa nods, eyeballing her uncle. He glares hard at the kid, but she doesn’t flinch. Like I am with Pop, she understands Cap loves his family too damn much to do anything besides huff and puff.

Chipper and Tatum leave at seven after the brothers arm-wrestle for twenty minutes. Cap wins twice, Chipper once, and the last one is a tie because neither can get the upper hand. I wipe the sweat from Cap’s forehead, rooting him on during the grand battle. Tatum tries to trash talk me, saying my man is going down. Like Lily, she can’t sell a genuinely bitchy threat.

“Meanie,” I taunt back, causing Mesa and Ridge to applaud their mother.

All of our efforts end in a stalemate with the brothers making threats about how next time will be different. They continue to talk trash while Chipper gets the kids bundled up to leave.

“I will fucking crush you,” Cap warns. “Bust your ass in half.”

Chipper glares at his younger brother. “I will fuck you up worse than anyone’s been fucked up before. Bust your ass so bad, your crack will disappear, and you'll need to cut open a new shit hole.”

“I think he won,” I tell Cap after Chipper drives away yelling obscenities while his kids cheer him on.

“Let him have this round. He’s old, and his children shouldn’t see what a washed-up bitch he’s become.”

Giggling at his dramatic sigh, I tug Cap into the house so we can escape the cold.

“Should we go to bed?”

“It’s seven, Audrey, and I’m not drunk enough to pass out like our parents did.”

Glancing at the clean kitchen and dining room, I don’t know what to do to keep us entertained. “We can’t have sex. You moan too loudly, and my parents are in the next room.”

“I moan too loudly, huh?” he says, making a move to tickle me.

Ignoring his fingers, I sit on the black leather couch and grab the remote. “I’d say the first night of my parents’ visit went exceptionally well.”

“Fuck yeah. Just keep those two drunk and mellow with their elderly rock songs, and we’ll have no issues.”

“Good thing we weren’t fucking tonight anyway or else you’d have lost sex after that comment.”

Cap settles next to me on the couch, stretches his legs to rest on the rustic coffee table, and smiles calmly.

“If I wanted it, you’d give in to me. I have my ways.”

“Don’t be so certain.”

“I’ve discovered four spots so far on your body that instantly turn you into a horny diva.”

“Four?” I ask, assuming nipples and clit count for three.

“If I kiss a spot just under your right ear,” he says, caressing the aforementioned spot, “you turn gooey and very compliant.”

“Bullshit,” I growl, handing him the remote.

“I’d demonstrate, but we can’t fuck with your parents in the house.”

Frowning at him, I know he’s screwing with me. Cap is the king of reverse psychology. Once he says we can’t fuck, I’m wondering where we can sneak off to get a quickie. Ugh, I hate how predictable I am with him. Well, not hate, but it’s irritating nonetheless.

“I’ll take your word for it,” I say, nuzzling my cheek against his chest while he flips through the channels.

“Think your parents will like the Kitchenette?”

“Mom will or at least say she does. Pop will complain it’s too small and filled with hipster fucks.”

“Are you going to be okay if they don’t like it?”

“Of course. I like it, and I’m the one who works there. Plus, I know them. They might think it’s weird while in White Horse, but on the drive to Ellsberg, they’ll probably mention how it’s in a safe neighborhood and the hipster fucks likely tip well.”

“We should butter them up with fucking bacon at the Bacon Bin before we stop at the Kitchenette. I imagine your father will growl less if he’s eaten a few bacon cupcakes.”

“Devious thinking,” I say, caressing his chest. “I knew there was a reason I liked you. Well, besides the sex and my four horny spots.”

“Four so far. I’m certain I’ll discover more.”

“Once my parents aren’t sleeping over, you feel free to explore to your giant heart’s content.”

Cap hands me the remote and leans his head back. “You choose what we watch. I just want to stare at you for a while.”

I switch off the TV and turn toward him. “Well, then I want to watch you.”

We stare at each other as the minutes tick by. I hear DB walking through the hallway and take a spot in between the recliners. I assume the dog thinks his owners will rise from their drunken stupor soon, but he’d be wrong.

Cap’s dark eyes draw me in, revealing his amusement in our current standoff. I also see unbridled lust, and a smile lingers across his kissable lips. I run my tongue over my teeth and think about how good he probably tastes.

“Want to fuck in the truck?” I whisper.

“No, that wouldn’t be romantic,” Cap says in an earnest voice. “I’m not the kind of man who sneaks off to have quickies in the cold garage.”

“You can turn on the truck and run the heater.”

“Well, okay, then,” he says, standing in a smooth motion and pulling me to my feet.

Giggling, I hurry hand in hand with Cap down the hallway to the garage. In the truck, we’ll enjoy enough privacy for him to holler his lungs raw. Hell, I might even get a little loud myself.