Devin tried to move. It didn’t take long for him to realize he couldn’t. His attention shifted to the two boys stretched across him. Clint’s arm laid on Devin’s chest, and Tucker’s legs were trapping both of them. At Devin’s back Willis rested his head against his shoulder.
He sighed, whispering “Clint,” the blond didn’t move, “Clint, come on, man.”
With a quiet groan, a pair of green eyes met his, “what?”
“Can you move Tucker?”
“Why didn’t you wake Tucker?”
“I don’t want to be loud and wake Willis.”
Then Tucker’s legs were pushed off of them. Tucker rolled away, whining to himself. Devin carefully extracted himself, laying Willis’s head on the blanket beneath him. He caught sight of Dallas at the table.
“Good morning,” Dallas said. He grabbed a bag off the table and tossed it to Devin.
“What are these?”
“Dried fruits.”
“Mangos?”
“I also have strawberries.”
Devin plopped down in the seat beside him, “I’m good. Where’s Landon?”