Becket: I’d do it again.
She responded with an eye roll emoji. He chuckled.
Becket: Have a good day, Peaches. If something makes you unhappy, just think of me naked in the shower and it will turn your day around.
This time her reply was three eye rolls, and he laughed before shoving his cell into his pocket and climbing out of the car.
He was halfway across the parking lot when he spotted his sister getting out of her red Volkswagen Beetle. He fucking hated that thing. It was too small and not safe enough. She needed a Mazda CX-90 or a Toyota Highlander. Something big enough so that if she crashed, her car wouldn’t compress to fucking nothing. But was she receptive to any advice from him?
Hell no.
She hated him or Jesse giving her any advice. And yeah, after she’d gotten sick, they’d been pretty overbearing anytime they were home from the military. But fuck, when you got told your sister had stage four cancer, everything changed. It was natural to then want to keep her as safe as possible.
He stopped beside her car. “Still driving this cardboard death trap, I see.”
Yep, there was the glare. “If by cardboard death trap you mean Sally the Beast, then yes, she is still my ride or die.”
“You named your car Sally the Beast?”
“Or just Sally for short.”
He shook his head as they headed toward the café. Since her diagnosis, his sister had changed. She didn’t take life so seriously. In fact, she took a hell of a lot more chances. Just last year she’d gone skydiving, and the year before that she’d gone snorkeling in the Great Barrier Reef in Australia.
“No Sky this morning?” Clara asked.
“No, she has work. So just me and our charming brother.”
“Well, charming compared to you.” She laughed, nudging him with her hip before stepping into the café.
Becket tried to grab her, but she knew him too well and slipped beneath his arm like a damn ninja. She dropped into the booth opposite Jesse and Aspen, and her “I win” grin was too damn wide.
Jesse frowned, though humor danced in his eyes. “Everything okay?”
“It’s great,” Clara said, lifting the menu.
Becket slid into the booth, shuffling Clara over and getting an elbow to the ribs. “Our sister thinks she’s a comedian.”
“Please, I’m far funnier,” she corrected.
Aspen grinned. “I find you funny.”
“See?” Clara bumped his shoulder.
Women. They were always ganging up on him.
Mrs. Gerald stopped at their table. “Hi. Would everyone like their usual?”
They obviously all came here too often, but it was the only place in town that sold decent coffee.
“Actually,” Clara said. “I’ll have an affogato.”
Jesse frowned. “That’s a dessert. It’s not even nine yet.”
Clara lifted a shoulder. “Life’s short. I may as well eat dessert in the morning.”
“Actually,” Aspen parroted. “I’ll have one too.”
Jesse sighed.
