“Back to the previous topic,” Liam says to me as we finally move up the line and snag a table near the sidewalk. “The one that’s the name of this glorious season we’re currently in.”
“Jesus, Liam.” I glare at him. “Give it a rest, will you?”
But our oldest brother never did learn to keep his mouth shut. “What do you expect us to think? You and Winter Allen have always been…combustible.”
“I know that,” I say curtly.
“And if you fuck her,” he says in a tone that edges on concern, “It will end badly.”
I roll my shoulders and wait until we’ve all ordered our beignets and café au laits before I speak. “It’s different now,” I say.
“How?” Liam asks curiously.
“It just…it is.” I choose my words carefully, but I can’t keep the emotion out of them.
Last night with Winter pushed every single one of my buttons. The way her mouth felt on mine, and then when she wrapped her lips around my dick—I nearly came right down her throat.
But that would have been the wrong thing to do. She wasn’t acting like herself. And I could tell. Despite how little blood flow was in my head, I knew she was acting differently. Off. And it was a sucker punch to the gut when I found out the truth. If I could destroy that fucker who assaulted her, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second.
“What do you mean?” Liam presses me.
I suck in a breath. “You’re testing the absolute limits of my patience. Back the fuck off.”
“What’s up with you and Cath, Liam?” Jared pipes in. “She seemed pretty pissed last night when we got back to your place.”
“Save it.” Liam’s eyes turn to stone. “She’s tired. You try taking care of a kid all day long.”
“Hey, I wasn’t criticizing Cath,” Jared says as he and I exchange a glance. “I just meant—are you two okay?”
“Fine.” Liam nods thank you to the waiter as he delivers our drinks and beignets.
And then, we all shut up so we can eat. That, and to potentially avoid a fistfight.
The four of us love each other, no doubt. We’d have each other’s backs in a knife fight without question. But we don’t communicate all that well. Okay, we communicate pretty shittily.
Not having a mother around since we were all under ten probably didn’t help us in the emotional expression department. Not that all dads are closed off, but ours was. Mama was the nurturer. She wanted to know about your day and if anything was going on that you wanted to share. Dad was the most supportive father a kid could ask for, but his idea of a heart-to-heart was to grunt, hand you a deck of cards, and tell you to start shuffling because we were about to play a game of poker.
My brothers and I stuff our faces and chat a bit more about the season, and then Liam and I say our goodbyes to Max and Jared. It’s hard playing on opposing teams and even harder living so far apart. The four of us have been tight our whole lives, and after Dad was killed, we just got closer.
“By the way.” Liam reaches out to stop Max and Jared from hopping into a cab. “I may have news soon. The detective contacted me last week.”
“He did?” I spin on him. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Telling you now,” is all he says, and Jared curses.
“He’s considering reopening the case.”
The three of us stare at Liam.
“Why?” I say. “That must mean…”
“He said there may be new evidence. And they have a couple of suspects.” Liam’s voice is so low I have to strain to hear him. “We may need to look at another lineup.”
I clench my hand into a fist. “Those lineups haven’t done us any good so far.”
“I still think we’re going to find him,” Max says. “I’ve always thought that. Maybe this is the time.”
Maybe. Or maybe we’re going down another dead end.
