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1287 Words
Salem was halfway through drying her hair with a towel when she shot Rhea a sideways smirk. “Since you’re so traumatized by your little friend in the river,” she said, “maybe we should call up that shack by the cabin — you know, the one with the fried gator and hush puppies.”
Rhea froze mid-sip of her water, narrowing her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I absolutely would,” Salem said, pulling her phone from her back pocket. “I’ll even tell them to make it extra crispy. Poetic justice.”
Rhea slapped her hand dramatically against her heart like she’d been shot. “You’re evil.”
Beau nearly choked on his coffee, grinning wide. “Fried gator? Now that’s irony I can get behind.”
Miles leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Guess we’re turning your fear into dinner.”
River hid his smile behind his drink, quiet but amused. “Just make sure you order enough for everyone,” he murmured. “That shack’s hush puppies go fast.”
Rhea pointed accusingly at Salem. “You’ve got five minutes — less than five minutes — to order or I’m taking your phone and doing it myself. And add extra hush puppies this time. You always underestimate how many we eat.”
“I do not,” Salem said, scrolling through her phone. “You just inhale them like you’ve never seen food before.”
“That’s because they’re addicting,” Rhea shot back, grabbing a stool and plopping down dramatically. “If you forget the extra order, I’m haunting you. You’ll wake up to the smell of fried gator and regret.”
Beau laughed so hard he had to brace a hand on the counter. “You two are like an old married couple.”
“Shut it, Beau,” Rhea said without looking up. “You’ll thank me when that delivery guy shows up with a bag full of golden fried heaven.”
Miles crossed his arms, smirking. “I’m not gonna lie — if you don’t order it soon, I might start getting hangry too.”
River tilted his head, the faintest hint of amusement touching his lips. “Then let her work. Last thing we need is a house full of hungry wolves.”
Salem tapped her phone screen, eyes narrowing in concentration. “Done. Ordered. Delivery in twenty.”
Rhea perked up instantly, grin returning full force. “See? You do love me.”
“I tolerate you,” Salem said dryly. “Because you make good food choices.”
Rhea leaned over, smug. “You’ll be thanking me when the hush puppies hit the table.”
Beau clapped his hands once, clearly satisfied. “Now that’s teamwork I can get behind — chaos, gators, and dinner.”
Miles nodded in agreement. “Add cold beer and we’re golden.”
River glanced between all of them — Rhea bouncing on her stool, Salem pretending not to smile, Beau and Miles both looking far too entertained — and allowed himself a low chuckle. “You all cause more trouble than you solve,” he said, voice warm despite the words.
Rhea grinned at him, unrepentant. “Yeah, but we make it fun.”
Salem finally gave in, a quiet laugh slipping through as she set her phone down. “You’re lucky I like hush puppies,” she said, shaking her head.
Rhea lifted her water bottle in a mock toast. “To gators, bad decisions, and fried redemption.”
Beau raised his glass in response. “Amen to that.”
And just like that, the kitchen buzzed again with laughter and teasing — the kind of easy, warm chaos that came only when danger had passed and family, however unconventional, filled the room.
The doorbell rang, and before anyone could even blink, Rhea was gone — a blur of energy and dripping hair as she bolted for the front door.
“Food’s here!” she yelled, the excitement in her voice borderline feral.
Salem reached out to stop her, but Rhea had already skidded around the corner, socked feet squeaking against the hardwood. “Rhea—”
Too late. The front door swung open, the smell of fried gator and hush puppies hitting the air like a beacon. Rhea let out a sound that could only be described as a delighted shriek and launched herself forward.
“Mine!”
Salem, following close behind, reached out to grab the bag—only for Rhea to shove past her, knocking her sideways straight into Miles.
“Whoa!” Miles caught Salem by the waist before she could stumble into the wall, a surprised chuckle escaping him. “Guess someone’s hungry.”
“Try rude,” Salem muttered, steadying herself but not moving away too quickly. She shot Rhea a flat look. “You realize you’re supposed to share with the rest of us, right? Or did you forget we exist the second you smelled fried batter?”
Rhea turned with her arms full of takeout bags, eyes gleaming. “I didn’t forget, I’m just prioritizing. You can’t share what you don’t secure first.”
Beau leaned against the counter, laughing. “She’s got a point. Wolf logic.”
River stood by the doorway, amusement hidden behind his composed expression but clear in his eyes. “Rhea, let Salem breathe before you start hoarding food like it’s winter.”
Rhea ignored him completely, rifling through the bags like a pirate counting treasure. “Ohhh, they added extra hush puppies. Bless that man.”
Salem crossed her arms, still half leaning near Miles. “You only got extra because I ordered it. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Correction,” Rhea said through a mouthful of fried gator. “You ordered it because I told you to.”
Miles grinned, still close enough to catch the faint scent of motor oil and vanilla clinging to Salem’s skin. “You two ever stop arguing?”
“Not unless one of us dies,” Salem said dryly. “Even then, Rhea would probably haunt me just to keep it going.”
Rhea swallowed, grinning wide. “Damn right I would.”
Beau stole a hush puppy from her container, earning a murderous glare. “Hey! I said share!”
River finally stepped forward, plucking one himself before Rhea could protest. “You did say that, Rhea,” he reminded her mildly.
She slumped, defeated but laughing. “Fine, fine, everyone eat before I regret being nice.”
Salem snagged one from the bag and smirked. “Finally, some manners.”
Rhea pointed a hush puppy at her. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t have tackled me if I’d tried to keep them all.”
Salem raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have tackled you.”
Miles’ lips twitched. “No, you’d have used the glitter bomb again.”
The room burst into laughter — Rhea groaning dramatically while Beau almost choked on his food.
Salem just smiled around her bite of hush puppy, shaking her head. “Exactly,” she said, smug and unbothered. “I always win.”
Rhea grumbled but couldn’t hide the grin spreading across her face. “Next time, I’m locking the door.”
River chuckled softly, voice low and calm amid the noise. “You say that every time.”
Rhea pointed her hush puppy at him, defiant. “Yeah, well… maybe next time I’ll mean it.”
Salem laughed quietly, the kind of sound that settled deep — and when Miles glanced at her, catching the easy warmth in her eyes, he realized it wasn’t just the hush puppies making the night feel right.
- Writer
