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going?"
    "Same as always, Billy. How's your pop? He looked a little pale when I saw him inside but I didn't want to say anything."
    "You know Pop." Billy shrugged, a gesture that could have meant anything but that Kayli obviously understood. She nodded and reached for the bag that Billy held out to her, carelessly tossing it over her shoulder and moving it to the front of the truck bed. Ian watched as she went to reach for the second bag, but Billy held it away from her, his gaze now fixed steadily on Ian.
    "Your friend gonna help you with these?"
    The question may have been directed at Kayli, but there was no mistaking the accusation aimed at Ian. And wasn't he an idiot for standing here watching instead of offering to help? He moved forward, intent on helping, but stopped short at Kayli's next words.
    "Nah, he just came to keep me company on the ride. And he's not really dressed for working." She laughed when she said it, a small musical sound that did nothing to lessen the sting of her words. Ian gritted his teeth and closed the distance between the truck and him, then quickly jumped into the back, his foot sliding only the smallest bit against the dirt and straw and whatever other loose stuff was strewn across the dirty bed. He gave Kayli a short impatient look then reached for the bag that Billy was still holding out.
    And promptly dropped it when Billy released his hold on it. Holy shit, the thing was heavier than it looked. Not so heavy that he should have dropped it, but he hadn't expected the weight. He leaned down to pick it back up, impatiently shoving Kayli's hands away when she reached for it.
    "No, I've got it."
    "But I don't want you to hurt yourself."
    He threw the bag over his shoulder, ignoring the pull in his upper back, and shot her a glare. "I said, I've got it."
    She stepped back, her hands held in front of her in a surrendering gesture, and laughed. "If you say so." And then, as if her words and the laughter weren't bad enough for his suddenly bruised ego, she leaned forward and grabbed another bag, tossing it over her shoulder as if it weighed nothing before carrying it to the front of the truck and tossing it down. "Just don't blame me when you ruin your clothes and hurt yourself."
    #
    Ian couldn't move. He was certain that if he tried, if he concentrated really hard and tried, he could get some part of his body to work.
    He didn't want to try.
    The mere thought of trying hurt.
    But the sheer embarrassment of this afternoon hurt worse, so he forced himself to roll over and pushed himself up to a sitting position. Or mostly sitting.
    He blew out a deep breath and glanced over at the twins. They were curled up next to each other, sound asleep in his bed. And he really, really needed to wake them up and get them to take a bath, because they were filthy.
    And they stank.
    Or maybe he was the one who stunk. He looked down at his own clothes and sniffed. It was hard to say, considering all three of them were dirty.
    The twins were covered in dried mud, their outfits stiff with dry pond water. They had successfully fed the ducks and searched for frogs--by climbing into the pond and digging along its muddy banks.
    He, on the other hand, was covered in dried sweat. Feed dust and dirt and he didn't want to think what else caked his skin and covered his clothes, and he reeked of...eau de farm. And it wasn't a pleasant outdoor smell, either.
    He pushed himself to a full sitting position and groaned as a spasm twitched in his back. Just a little one, nothing a quick massage wouldn't fix. Unfortunately for him, there was no chance of a massage in his immediate future. A soak in the Jacuzzi would work, too--if he could find the energy to drag his ass out of the bed and get moving.
    He compiled a mental list: wake up the twins and get them cleaned and into bed.
    Burn their clothes.
    Get himself in the shower then into the Jacuzzi.
    Burn his clothes.
    He glanced over at the sleeping she-devils and winced at the dirt