Spitfire.
Feral.
Siren of the South.
I don’t notice her lips are shinier today. I definitely don’t see the silk peeking out from under that same old sweater she’s always wearing.
It’s not me paying attention; it’s just the curse of growing up in the same zip code.
And I shouldn’t be surprised she didn’t tell me about the meeting. She’s proven to be an expert at leaving me out of the loop, dropping half the details so she’s not exactly lying, but damn sure not telling the whole truth either.
This whole sponsorship has been a fucking nightmare wrapped in fake smiles and passive-aggressive Post-it notes bullshit.
“Isn’t this the perfect little family reunion?” Her sister offers a striped red and white bowl amid our charged tension. “Popcorn?”
I shake my head and fix my gaze straight ahead. It’s easier than dealing with Jade, easier than swallowing that family reunion shit. The thought of calling her my sister-in-law makes my skin crawl.
I can’t see her that way.
Never.
“Maybe I didn’t think you’d show up.” Jade’s gaze steadies in front of her, like she’s actually interested in the meeting—which we both know isn’t true. She hates town meetings as much as I hate the meetings.
And, fuck, I do hate town meetings. I hate every damn thing about them.
Town council.
Townsfolk.
The arguing.
The gossip.
Her.
How is it every time I attend a town meeting, she’s my adversary?
Except today.
Today, we’re supposed to be on the same side, but every step forward comes with a dozen steps back. Every word she throws feels like a jab, every glance a challenge. It’s like tryin’ to saddle a wild bronc who’s unpredictable, dangerous, and liable to throw you off at any second.
Jade Fox and I will never be on the same side, and I’d rather take on the wild bronc.
Jade slants me a blank stare, but her jaw is a little too tight to be casual. “Or maybe I just didn’t want you here.”
And there it is.
The god honest truth.
“What a coincidence. I didn’t want to be here.”
“You didn’t have to come.”
My jaw tightens so hard I can feel the muscles knot beneath my skin. “But I did. And we both know why. You’d feed my family to the gators with a grin on your face.”
A slow, snake-like grin spreads over her glossy lips—not that I notice her lips—all bite and no warmth. And she doesn’t say a damn word, ‘cause she knows I’m right.
“Not true.” Josie leans around her sister.
