He lets out a sigh that sounds an awful lot like a moody teenager.
“I know, but if you ignore the green antennae, he’s a nice one, I promise.”
Luci approaches with a mug nestled between her hands. “Raspberry. Our favorite.”
“Thank you.” I grab the tea, and she lets out a groan as she drops to the couch beside me.
“How’s my Lena?” she wonders, patting my thigh.
I take a sip of my tart tea, trying to gain control of my emotions. “Good. Great.” The words come out too loud, and the corners of my lips quiver.
I’ve felt so … adrift lately. Like I’m lost in a turbulent ocean without land in sight. And for some reason, the concern in her voice feels like she’s thrown me a life preserver.
It makes me want to pour out all my thoughts and have her sort them out with me.
Her brow furrows, but before she can respond, the back door squeaks open and a commotion rises from behind us in the kitchen. My brother’s voice booms through the house in greeting before my niece, Penelope, shouts, “Tia Lena!”
Craning my neck, I try to see her, but I don’t want to wake Noah, so I set the mug on the coffee table and wave her over. She bounds toward me and dives onto the couch beside me.
“There you are,” I sigh, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I missed you, kid.”
She grins up at me. “I missed you too. I’m glad you came.”
“Me too.” Pressing my nose to her chestnut waves, I breathe her in and grin. “Did you get the bread?”
“No, they didn’t have the right kind for Gavin.”
The last two syllables land like a bomb in my chest. I suck in a breath, but it does nothing to help me process the name she just said.
Gavin.
My stomach drops to the floor.
Anger and excitement swirl into a storm in my brain, mixing to the point that I can’t distinguish them.
Pen’s blue eyes blink up at me, and I must look as sick as I feel because she asks, “Are you okay?”
A tremor shakes my hands as I try to find the words to answer her.
It’s not him. She must be mistaken.
But I can’t confirm. I’m trapped on this couch, facing the wrong way, while unease churns in my gut.
In the mixture of voices behind me, one distinctive chuckle dances over my skin, raising every hair on my body. The deep, hearty laugh is a sound I’ve heard so many times, but not for the last three years.
They’ve been devoid of the man behind me.
Boots thud against the floors, ominously approaching, and suddenly, anger bursts out of my storm of emotions, and I know exactly where to direct it.
2
GAVIN
She’s not supposed to be here.
That thought flashes through my mind like a bright sign on the Las Vegas strip.
It’s the only reason I agreed to come back.
