“Come on, Mom, pleeeeease!” Lucy begged.
“Yeah, come on, Mom,” Brody teased, motioning me with his fingers. “Get out here.”
“No thanks, you guys look like a bunch of wet dogs.” I looked over at Diesel who was curled up at the end of the porch watching them. He cocked his head and looked at me. “No offense, Diesel.”
“Wet dogs? We look like wet dogs?” Brody exclaimed. “What do you think of that, girls?”
“Booooo!” They yelled in unison, still puddle jumping.
“I have an idea,” Brody said, pulling the girls into a huddle. He put his arms around their shoulders and talked quietly.
“Okay, ready … one … two…”
“THREE!” The girls yelled out together as Brody took off in a sprint straight for me. I held my hands up in front of me, backing up toward the house.
“No, no, no! What are you-?” Before I could finish the sentence, Brody picked me up and carried me out onto the driveway. I instinctively wrapped my hands around his neck, enjoying the feel of his strong shoulders under my arms. Before I had time to get comfortable, we were standing over a puddle and he was grinning devilishly at me.
“No way, don’t you dare,” I warned him.
“What do you think, Twinkies? She called us wet dogs. What should we do with her?”
“Puddles! Puddles!” They chanted in unison.
Little traitors.
With the girls cheering him on, Brody marched around the driveway in circles, splashing my butt in drops of cold water. The girls laughed louder and harder with each puddle. I forgot how cold I was when I looked at their sweet little faces and how much fun they were having.
“Jump! Jump!” Lucy jumped up and down clapping.
Brody looked right into my eyes, our faces only inches apart. My heart was beating so hard I was wondering if he could feel it too. I hadn’t wanted to kiss someone that bad in a really long time. If the girls hadn’t been right there, I might have made the first move.
“You wouldn’t do that to me.” I narrowed my eyes, looking straight into his.
“Wouldn’t I?” He raised an eyebrow in defiance and with that, up in the air we both went. His feet slammed to the ground two seconds before a huge rush of cold water covered my whole backside. I squealed and arched my back, almost falling out of Brody’s grasp.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said, squeezing me tighter. “I’m gonna teach you to relax and have fun if it kills me.” He jumped again, slamming his feet harder this time. Water covered my back and flew all the way up over my head. I blinked several times before my vision was clear enough to see Brody lick the water off his lips and flash that killer smile again. I threw my head back and laughed just as hard as the girls, quite relaxed in Brody’s sturdy arms.
After another hour of playing in the rain with Brody and the girls, I was chilled to the bone and desperate for a hot shower. I grabbed my stuff out of our bathroom and headed to the guest wing of the house. Passing the first bathroom, I slipped quietly into the second and dropped my stuff on the small table in the corner.
“Oh, Kacie … you do look like a wet dog,” I said, staring at myself in the mirror. I sighed, pulling off my t-shirt that was completely plastered to my body, and cursed out loud at my decision to change into jeans after breakfast. Trying to pull them off was like trying to pull a sumo wrestler through a child’s inner tube. I kicked and struggled until they were off and in a heap with the other wet clothes on the bathroom floor.
I stood, examining myself one more time in front of the mirror wearing only my bra and panties. “A wet dog who needs to hit the gym, no less.”
Just then, the bathroom door flew open and Piper came flying in. “Sorry, Mom, gotta pee!” She rushed by me, pulling her pants down as she ran.
“Piper!” I called out, “You have to learn to knock. You can’t just barge in on people.” I turned to shut the bathroom door and stopped dead in my tracks. Brody was standing in the hallway, carrying a bath towel, staring right at me.
“Uh … sorry,” he said, covering his eyes like a toddler playing peek-a-boo while I jumped behind the bathroom door. “I was about to knock when she ran past and opened the door. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Um … I think the bathroom down the hall is … available.” I was glad he was still covering his face because I was certain mine was twelve different shades of red.
“Okay, thanks. Sorry.” He mumbled through his hands and turned to walk down the hall, bumping into a table my mom had full of picture frames, knocking almost all of them over.
“Shit!” He hissed as he bent over and picked up the frames, trying to put them back the way they were but they kept falling over, taking new ones with them like dominoes.