I frown when Blake brings a chair over and coaxes Loren into sitting. My sister never told me she was craving company. I’d have been happy to visit her if she had. And I’m not sure I like the way Daisy’s trying to offer me all this reassurance, as if she knows my own family better than I do. I’m falling further down the list by the minute around here.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll have more. You’ll probably get to be theParrainnext time, right?” she leans in and says softly enough that only I can hear her, and I realize I’ve reached a whole new low.
“You don’t know a thing about me or my family,” I retort angrily.
Her face falls, and she looks hurt for a second. I groan inwardly, because now I’ll have to fix it. I can’t just be this much of a dick to my best friend’s younger sister, especially someone as sweet and innocent as Daisy LaFleur.
My buddy Rowan and the rest of his huge family are all enigmas. Their parents were trad-Catholic hippies before it was cool, with their small-scale country farm and homeschooled breed of intelligent and attractive yet abnormally good-natured kids. But whatever the LaFleur offspring lack in social awareness, they make up for with their refreshingly wholesome dispositions. They’re all talented, too, all nine of them managing to master some musical instrument, sport, or medical specialty, and most of them are also married to someone exceptional. It’s equally as difficult to hate them as it is not to hate them because they’re all just so damned …nice.
And although she’s probably the bubbliest of the bunch, Daisy is also the least accomplished, to the best of my knowledge. I imagine it’s only because of her health issues, though. She’s also the baby of the family, which means her parents and older siblings have always fawned over her. In fact, their coddling and sheltering of Daisy is the only legitimate fault I’ve found in their family dynamic since my first trip out to the LaFleur homestead during my sophomore year of college.
I doubt she’s ever been fussed at or denied anything in life, so I seriously doubt Daisy’s prepared to handle a real conversation with a grump like me. In that same line, there’s also an unspoken obligation for me to take care of her on Rowan’s behalf.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble after a while. “It’s not your fault my sister got knocked up by the one guy I despise most and chose his equally annoying brother to be her kids’ godfather over me.” I don’t mean to divulge that much, but I’ve never had much of a filter.
Apparently my oversharing makes for a more sincere apology, though, because Daisy nods and gives me a sad smile. “Okay, butdespiseis a pretty strong word. They’re both genuinely nice guys, and Blake can’t be all that bad if he makes your sister so happy, can he?”
I snort. “You only think that because your parents sheltered you from men like Blake, but you’d feel differently if you knew about his exploits at LSU. And I know for a fact that he earned every bit of his reputation. My nieces can’t possibly be the only kids he’s ever fathered.”
“And you’re guilty of spreading gossip—none of which I believe for a second. Blake is a good man, and he’s going to be a great dad. Just look at the way he adores her,” Daisy argues, gesturing toward them. I glance over to find Blake staring reverently at Loren while she opens a gift. “How could you hate him when he loves your sister so well?”
“I don’thatehim,” I mutter after a while. “But I can’t help wondering when the other shoe will drop, because it will. It always does. And it’s my job to be there for my sister when things don’t work out.”
“What a terrible thing to say!” She swats at me with the back of her hand, surprising me. “How can you be so cynical?”
“I’m a Reed, not a LaFleur. My parents didn’t crap rainbows and butterflies when I was a kid. They were too busy drinking and resenting one another to teach their kids anything besides preparing to be let down.” I don’t mean to say it aloud, but it’s another of those blurted-out harsh truths that I can never seem to keep inside my head.
“You’re obviously wrong,” she continues, nodding in the direction of my older sister and her happy, little family behind us. “This sounds more like aLandryproblem than aReedproblem.”
And I’m starting to regret being nice to her.
“Yeah, well. You’re on my shit list, too, you know,” I grumble.
“You have the worst language,” she whispers harshly and backhands my chest again.
I roll my eyes. “Fine. You’re on myBougie-brolist.”
“What have I ever—oh, right, the house.” She cringes and shoots me an apologetic smile. “To be fair, neither Loren nor I knew you were planning to stay there when she offered it to me.”
“Yet another example of why I can’t trust my brother-in-law-to-be,” I say under my breath.
I was furious when I arrived in Camellia this morning with all of my things packed in the back of my Jeep, only to discover that my sister was renting out her house to someone else, even though Blake had already promised it to me a couple of months ago. Loren had moved in with Blake after she’d started experiencing complications with her pregnancy, and he was hoping to keep her there. So he and I worked out a deal in which he was supposed to convince her to rent her place to me in exchange for my blessing and support when he eventually proposes. But even if I were willing to remind that snake of a lawyer about the bargain he apparently never intended to keep, I can’t imagine Loren wouldn’t feel obliged to Daisy, and Blake will undoubtedly side with Loren.
It’s not like I’d let them put Daisy out just to prove a point, anyway. Despite what everyone seems to think, I’m capable of being flexible—I just need a moment to adjust to the idea of not getting my way before I bend. Had I not been so stunned by walking in to find my college roommate’s baby sister standing in her underwear this morning, I probably wouldn’t have been so civil to her. But once I’d gotten over the shock of seeing Daisy half-naked and all grown up, I reminded myself that Rowan would want me to look after her just as I expected him to care for Loren. It’s not exactly the same, since I’d technically tried to set the two of them up before, and Daisy’s practically still a kid.
Regardless, I’m not thrilled about the prospect of sleeping in my childhood bedroom and playing second fiddle to the Bourgeois brothers all over again while Daisy has my sister’s cozy little house all to herself, even though she probably shouldn’t be living alone in the first place.
“Do you think it’ll be hard for you to find another place to rent?” Daisy asks, reading my mind.
“Probably. The rental market in Camellia seems pretty scarce, and it’s not like we have apartment complexes around here. I’ll just have to take what I can get, though. I want to be close enough to help Lo after the twins are born, and I’m sure I’ll wear out my welcome with my dad before long.”
“Oh, well, I really am sorry, then.”
I sigh, feeling guilty again. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out.”
“Well, what if you … I mean, we could always …” she starts and stops, then squares her shoulders before she goes on. “Thereisa second bedroom. It’s tiny, only big enough for a twin-sized bed, and we’d have to share a bathroom, but …”
I lift my brow. “Are you making me a pity offer?” I ask incredulously. “Daisy, I’m a thirty-three-year-old man. I can’t be your room?—”
