Kaia held a bouquet of pink roses. The moment he spotted Rebel, he walked over, leaned in and kissed her cheek.
“Reb.”
He wore plaid pants, a long-sleeved black shirt, ankle boots, a leather necklace with an evil eye talisman, a leather bracelet on each wrist, his silver ring, and lopsided earrings. One hoop was bigger and had leather tassles dotted with sapphires, while the other hoop was small and silver. He smelled smoky.
“Hey, Kaia,” Rebel said, uncomfortable with the audience. Maybe that’s why Kaia merely stared at her. She smiled at the flowers. “They’re beautiful. Are they for me?”
“Who else, angel?” Kaia grabbed her hand and set the bouquet in her palm, closing her fingers around the stems that stuck out from the wrapper. “A dozen pink roses can’t compare to the red rosiness of your peachy skin.”
A giggle escaped Momma, but she clapped a hand over her mouth and pretended to cough. Mattie snapped her brows together and looked at Rebel.
“Peaches are fuzzy, stupid,” Axel blared.
Rebel’s face heated, but she ignored her little brother. Somehow, she needed to communicate to Kaia to keep his poetry to himself. They’d already discussed the difference between their first meeting on Turn Creek Bridge and their date at the restaurant. He admitted he resorted to poems to hide his nerves, but it pleased him that she liked the words he strung together off the top of his head.
“Are you saying the Blonde Viper got a hairy face?” Axel demanded into the silence.
Uncertainty marred Kaia’s handsome features and he turned. “Uh—”
“Axel asked a fair fuckin’ question,” Daddy said, glaring at Kaia.
“Of course Rebel doesn’t have a hairy face.” Kaia smiled at Rebel. “She has nectarine skin.”
“Nectarines wrinkle when they get old,” Axel replied.
Momma pressed down on her lips, her eyes watering and crinkling in amusement. She fanned her face and drew in a deep breath. “Kaia, why don’t you save your compliments for Rebel for another time?”
“But Mrs. Caldwell, I bottle them up inside like steam in a boiler until the moment I can stare into her blue orbs of brilliance.”
“Omigod,” Momma said, spinning away. Her shoulders shook.
“Mr. Caldwell, you understand, don’t you?” Kaia asked, ignoring Rebel placing a finger over her lips in an attempt to tell him to shut up. “When you look at your fair wife, poetry must pop into your head.”
“If the shit you sayin’ came to my fuckin’ ass, I’d chop off my goddamn head so I’d never fuckin’ think it again.”
“Little dude, I don’t offer my advice for free,” Uncle Digger said, “but I’m doing you a public service today. Shut the fuck up cuz the shit you saying don’t make no fucking sense.”
Kaia’s eyes lit up. “Not to you, but Rebel loves my poetry.”
All eyes turned to her and she damned him for putting her on the spot. She couldn’t tell the truth and burst his bubble.
Uncle Val looked at Rebel. “Even I could write better lines, Reb. You really like that? You, who can beat a bitch or a motherfucker?”
“Back the fuck off, motherfuckers,” Daddy intervened. “If Reb like it, we love it.”
Kaia gave him a beaming smile then transferred it to Rebel. “A man after my own heart.”
“Don’t fuckin’ push it, boy,” Daddy grumbled.
Ignoring the warning, Kaia turned to Kayce and beckoned him closer.
Kayce Riggs was stockier than Kaia with reddish highlights in his dark hair and eyes that were a lighter blue. She knew him from school, though, like most of the boys there, he kept his distance.
She smiled at him. “Hey, Kayce. How are you?”
“Impressed my brother found a girl who likes his brain.”
“He’s jealous,” Kaia said, laughing.
