Page 62 of The Triple Threat

Carter looked up from whatever argument he was having with Bronte and gave me a chin lift. Holding up a finger he mouthed he’d be one second.

“Are they arguing again?” Jefferson asked with a laugh.

“Yeah, as always.”

I watched as Bronte wagged a finger at my brother and wondered why I even thought it was a good idea to get them together. Then, when Bronte spotted Jefferson unbuttoning his bright blue, short-sleeve shirt to reveal a definite four-pack and toned pecs, I knew why. She actually feigned a swoon and fanned herself with Carter’s hand. Giving her a look that would wither most people, except Bronte, to dust, Carter snatched his hand away and came over to me with a grey pet carrier.

“Hey, Jefferson.”

“Carter, how you doing, son?”

Jefferson fist-bumped my brother and I couldn’t help but laugh. If Dad had done that to him, Carter would have gone crazy and told him to act his age. Jefferson was evidently far cooler than our dad.

“Here’s what you asked for.” Carter put the carrier on the floor and opened it up, pulling out a cute grey rabbit with white ears. “Be careful with him, little Amy Thornton has no idea we have him. As far as she knows, he’s relaxing in the surgery before having his balls chopped off in the morning.”

Jefferson winced. “Shit.” He reached for the rabbit. “What’s his name?”

Carter colored up. “Carter,” he murmured as he passed the rabbit to Jefferson.

We both burst out laughing but Bronte, who had now joined us clucked her tongue in disgust.

“Because you fuck like a rabbit I’m guessing,” she muttered.

Carter’s nostrils flared. “No because she likes me. She has a crush on me. Okay?”

Now it was Bronte’s turn to laugh. “Little six-year-old Amy Thornton? Well, I guess that’s about your level.”

By the way my brother looked at my best friend, I figured it would probably be better to try and part them, but then that wouldn’t get them together.

“Bronte, can you take Carter to where his stuff is laid out for him, while I set Jefferson up?”

She opened her mouth to protest, but then grinned and nodded. “Sure can. Come on dickweed, follow me.”

“Jeez,” Jefferson said as his big hand slowly stroked down Carter the rabbit. “I hate to say this but those two just hate each other don’t they. In fact, I can’t remember a time when they didn’t. Even when you were all little kids, they wound each other up. The times your dad and Jim had to separate them.” He shook his head and looked over to where Bronte was thrusting a bag of stuff at Carter. “Great times.”

As his eyes glassed over and his thoughts evidently went to his late wife, I felt a huge lump form in my throat. I couldn’t imagine what he had gone through, was still going through, at having lost Sondra.

“You okay?” he asked me and rubbed a hand down my back.

“Yeah, sure. You ready?”

He nodded and holding bunny Carter tenderly in his arms, he took his place and let Annie the photographer snap away while Whitney Houston’s ‘How will I know’ played through her Bluetooth speaker.

“Wow,” Bronte sighed beside me. “He looks so sexy holding little Carter.”

We looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“You show big Carter what he’s wearing?” I asked, unable to keep the smirk from my face.

“I gave him the bag. And three… two… one.”

“Ellie!” my brother shouted from across the room. “Just because I’m October, if you think I’m fucking dressing up like a Halloween Pumpkin you’re damn well mistaken.”

Bronte and I silently high-fived each other. My good mood was quickly broken though when I heard a ruckus behind me and turned to see Dylan and Hunter playing tug-o-war with the damn Santa suit.

“You see,” Bronte said as she pointed at Jefferson posing like a professional. ‘That is why I want him. He actually acts like an adult.”

And at that moment I kinda had to agree with her.