Merry Little Cluster Fudge (The Price of Love #3.5)

6. Chapter Six

chapter six

. . .

Marco

I watched the tension fizzing between Meghan and Thomas like static electricity, threatening to spark at any moment. The tropical breeze carried the scent of salt and hibiscus, but it did nothing to blow away the fury that was Meghan Price. Our little group hovered uneasily at the outdoor bar. Wick and I flanked our girl like twin pillars.

"So, Dad," Meghan said, her voice tight as a bowstring, "how exactly did you and Patricia meet?"

Thomas shifted on his feet, his fingers drumming an anxious rhythm on the weathered wood of the bar top. I glanced over at Patricia, laughing and building sandcastles with the kids on the beach.

"Well," Thomas rubbed the back of his neck, "it's actually quite a funny story?—"

"Sorry. We're back," Emmett said, strolling up to us with Callie tucked under his arm. When I saw how freshly fucked she looked, a Cheshire grin spread over my face. "Let's do this family drama thing real quick so we can all get back to vacation, yeah?"

"Damn, Emmett. Didn't take long to fuck all your big feelings out, did it?"

I couldn't help myself. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and sometimes you just gotta slice through that shit with a well-timed joke.

Meghan snorted, her laughter bursting out like she'd been holding her breath. She buried her face in Wick's chest, shoulders shaking.

Wick's hand connected with the back of my head. "Jesus, Marco. Time and place."

I rubbed the spot, grinning. "What? I'm just saying what we're all thinking."

Thomas coughed, fighting back a smile. His eyes darted between us and Patricia on the beach.

Emmett's ears turned red. "Fuck off, Rossi."

Callie merely smirked. "Oh honey, you have no idea."

That set Meghan off again. She wheezed, eyes streaming. "I can't... I can't breathe."

I winked at Callie. "Attagirl. Own it."

Wick groaned. "Can we please focus on the actual issue here?"

Meghan wiped her eyes, still giggling. "Okay, okay. Sorry, Dad. You were saying?"

Thomas straightened up and took a deep breath. "Right. Well, as I was saying, Patricia and I met?—"

"Wait," Emmett interrupted, his brow furrowed. "Before we get into how you met your... friend, can we talk about Mom?"

Thomas sighed, suddenly looking his age.

I glanced around the group. Shit, this is gonna get messy. It was time to give the Price family some privacy for their Jerry Springer moment.

"Hey," I said, nudging Wick and catching Callie's eye. "Let's give them some space to hash this out. I need a drink anyway."

Wick nodded, relief washing over his face. He'd come a long way, but feelings weren't really his thing. We made our way to the far end of the bar, settling into a spot with a clear view of both the unfolding family drama and the kids on the beach.

I flagged down the bartender. "Three mai tais, heavy on the rum."

Callie gave me a stern look. "It's barely noon."

"It's five o'clock somewhere, darling. Besides, we're on vacation. And I have a feeling we're gonna need it."

The bartender slid our drinks over. Colorful umbrellas bobbed in the frothy concoctions. I took a long sip, the sweet burn of rum sliding down my throat.

"So," Wick said, his eyes fixed on the Price trio. "Anyone wanna place bets on how this goes down?"

I snickered. "My money's on Meghan losing her shit first."

"Marco!" Callie swatted my arm with a scowl. She took a deep breath, expression evening out. "They'll be okay. I think it was more a shock than anything. Honestly, are either of you upset that Laura isn't here, 'cause I'm... decidedly not."

Wick grimaced. "The woman tried to get me fired and still calls me and Marco Meghan's friends despite the fact that we have two children together—not to mention how shitty she always is to Meg."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Definitely won't be shedding any tears about this one."

Wick blew out a long breath and ran a hand through his hair. "I just hope they can work it out without too much angst. The last thing we need is for this vacation to turn into a shitshow."

I leaned against the bar, mai tai in hand, watching Patricia with the kids on the beach. She was bent over, pointing excitedly at something in the sand while Mia and Lucas crowded around her.

"Well, would you look at that," I mused, nodding towards the scene. "Grandma Patricia's already got the rugrats eating out of her hand."

Callie followed my gaze, smiling softly. "She does seem to have a way with them, doesn't she?"

Wick grunted in agreement, his eyes never leaving Meghan's animated form at the other end of the bar. "Natural, even."

I shook my head. "Our family tree's starting to look more like a forest. We've got step-grandmas, poly parents, and enough kids to start our own baseball team."

"Marco!"

"What?" I grinned, unrepentant. "I'm just saying, we should probably start handing out name tags for family vacations."

Wick rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it."

We fell into a comfortable silence, sipping our drinks and watching the scenes unfold before us. On the beach, Patricia had helped the kids set up an impressive seashell sorting system. Their laughter carried on the breeze.

"You know," Callie said, scooping a cherry out of her glass, "it's kind of nice to see Thomas happy. I mean, really happy."

I nodded, thinking back to all the stilted family dinners and forced smiles I'd witnessed over the years. "Yeah, can't say I've ever seen the old man this... relaxed."

Wick drained his glass and set it on the bar. "Well, Laura always did have a stick up her ass the size of a redwood."

Callie snorted into her drink, almost inhaling the paper umbrella.

"Holy shit, Wick!" I said, chuckling. "Tell us how you really feel."

He shrugged, unapologetic. "Just stating facts."