“I’ll take one from you,” he said, leaning forward to accept a butterfly kiss from his daughter. “Now a real one.”
Suellen kissed him hard, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on. “Love you, Daddy.”
“Love you, too.” He smiled at Marilyn. “I want one from you.”
Marilyn was shy, quickly batting her lashes against his cheek and leaning away.
“No kiss?”
he asked, offering her his cheek.
She smiled and kissed him.
“Thank you, Marilyn.” He looked at Amberleigh. Marilyn and Suellen had fanciful face paint—making their butterfly ensemble complete. But Amberleigh’s face was painted like a dragon. It made him chuckle. “You giving out dragon kisses?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Dino-roar,” she said, smiling at Cal.
“I’ll take one of those,” Brody said. “As long as it won’t hurt.”
India laughed then.
“Careful,” Amberleigh said, kissing him on each cheek. “There.”
“I like dino-roar kisses.” He looked at India then. “But I might have saved the best for last.”
India’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. “Brody,” she warned, glancing around them. She’d softened toward him over the past few weeks but was still skittish about anything public, knowing the feud, the election and the kids still complicated things.
“One butterfly kiss from you, Miss Boone,” he said, putting his dollar in the jar, leaning forward and offering her his cheek.
She hesitated before brushing her extralong lashes across the ridge of his cheek a good half a dozen times.
“That was some kiss,” he said, smiling down at her. “I like your crown.”
“We made it,” Suellen said.
“You’ve got glitter...all over,” he said, running his fingers along India’s cheek.
Her eyes went round. “Brody.” She stepped back, her cheeks on fire then.
“I think I’m going to buy another kiss,” he said, pulling the envelope from his back pocket and sliding it into the jar.
India frowned, pulling the envelope out. “What are you up to?”
He grinned. “Open it and find out.”
“Yea, Mom.” Cal was grinning, too, his excitement barely contained.
She opened the letter and read the paper inside. Once, then again. “It’s a deed.” She frowned. “To... What is it?”
“Our property, you know, the one the Wallaces and Boones have been squabbling over for the last few decades?” He grinned. “A place for our family. A wedding present from your father and mine. And a truce. As long as you say yes.”
The paper fluttered out of her fingers.
He knelt, fully aware that a crowd had gathered around them and not caring a bit. “India Boone—”
“No, Brody, get up.” She grabbed his hand and tugged frantically.
“Let the boy be,” her father said. “You have no idea how determined he is.”