Billie and I never had a home like this or a mother as warm as Gail. Giving Billie a taste of what life would be like here is the best way to get my sister to move in.
I shrug noncommittally. “I’m not sure.” To find out, I’d have to actually make conversation with Eli Davis, and I try to avoid the overly talkative former NHL player as much as I can.
“I bet he does.” Quinn smiles, causing the dimple in his cheek to pop just like my sister’s does when she’s genuinely happy. I’ve got one, too, although no one’s seen it in a long damn time. “I can’t wait to start playing hockey. Mom even said I could get new skates.”
Billie pauses her conversation with Gail to look at Quinn. My sister and her son are twins, with matching dirty blond hair and almond-shaped chestnut-brown eyes.
“I told you I’d consider it,” she says to him. “Don’t go putting words in my mouth.”
I’d get the kid new skates. Hell, I’d even talk to Eli if it means my sister and nephew would move here. The house has three bedrooms, and Gail swears it has more life when Quinn is here. She’s happy to have us stay on the farm.
“But if we move here—”
Quinn’s words are cut off by my sister’s stern glare. “Quinn.”
My nephew sighs, looking down at his pancakes, and I glance at my sister. I know better than to overstep in front of her son.
“Did I tell you that we got another two wedding bookings for June? At this point, we may need you to come on fulltime,” says Gail.
Quinn sits at the head of the table like a proud king, with Billie and I flanking either side of him and Gail at the other head. It’s clear to me that Gail’s trying to fill the void Peter left, but since Billie and I never had much of a home life, neither of us mind.
Growing up, I worked hard to keep Billie and me out of my father’s way. By the time I was sixteen, he’d stopped coming home most nights, anyway. By eighteen, he was dead. Food wasn’t an easy commodity to come by, but I did my best to raise Billie after our mother left, just before my sister’s sixth birthday.
Now I survey the scene in front of me—a family and home like I’ve only ever dreamed of having. Strawberries, bananas, whipped cream, and syrup, along with stacks of pancakes in all different flavors, are spread in front of us on the table.
“Really?” Billie almost sounds excited.
Gail breaks out into a big smile. “Yup, and Penny thinks we could get even more weddings if we’d advertise more.”
Billie laughs warmly. “Yes, I’m sure that would help drum up business.”
“Your brother is doing a good job with the socials,” Gail says proudly, eyeing me across the table.
I offer a grunt in response as Billie’s eyes lift, amused. “I’ve never seen him use any form of social media. What’s your handle, Jesse?”
Even though I hate social media with a passion, I do enjoy the lilt in my sister’s voice. “I don’t have one. We use the farm’s.”
Billie immediately pulls out her phone, and I know when she’s found the page because she snorts. I try to not roll my eyes, but when Quinn sits up on his knees and begins to reach across the table, a growl escapes from the back of my throat.
“I wanna see,” he begs.
“Don’t,” I start, right as the front door swings open, dragging in the cool March air.
From my place in the dining room, I watch as Tally, in a pair of sleep shorts that barely cover her toned thighs and an oversized sweatshirt, cautiously steps inside. “Mom?”
“In here, dear,” Gail replies.
Tally’s amber eyes go wide when she realizes there’s a crowd.
“I was just looking for you in the cottage. You’ve done a great job avoiding me,” she says pointedly.
Gail gets up and greets her daughter, pulling her in for ahug. “Give me a hug, then you can hit me with more attitude. Missed you, baby girl.”
Tally’s stance relaxes as she melts into her mother’s arms, and I look away.
“Missed you, too, Mom,” I hear her whisper, not so quietly. “But could you please tell me why there’s a man living in our home and you’ve moved into a tiny cottage?”
My head snaps back in their direction, and I can’t help but scowl. My sister gives me a swift kick to the shin. “Stop staring.”
