“Why is he doing this?” I ask, meeting up with Trystan at the door. “I thought you said he’s never here.”
“He’s not,” he says as we walk down the hall. “He’s just here to impress you. Make you think he’s a decent father. He’ll stick around for a day or two and then come up with some excuse for why he has to leave.”
“For how long?”
“A few months. You probably won’t see him again until Thanksgiving.”
“Seriously?”
“Everyone ready?” Brock asks as he comes down the hall to the living room. He’s in a light gray suit with a white dress shirt, but no tie. “Where’s Braden?”
“In the kitchen,” Trystan says with a laugh. “Probably counting his protein bars.”
“Braden, get in here!” Brock yells. “We’re leaving!”
Braden appears in black pants and a tight black polo shirt. He saunters into the room, his dark eyes locked on mine. Damn, his eyes are intense. The way he’s looking at me makes my heart thump faster. He’s trying to intimidate me, but it’s not going to work.
He stops next to his dad, but his eyes are still on me.
“Let’s get this over with,” he says, his gaze moving down to my dress. To my body.
What the hell? Is he checking me out?
Okay, I might’ve been checking him out too, but I’d never do anything with him. He’s my cousin.
“Let’s go,” Brock says, turning to leave.
Trystan follows, but Braden remains in front of me, his eyes lifting up to mine.
My heart beats even faster. I look away, then hurry past him.
What the hell’s going on with him? I thought he hated me, but just now I got the feeling he likes me. As more than a cousin.
Chapter 7
“So,” Brock says to me after we order, “did you have time to get settled?”
“Not really.” I place the cloth napkin on my lap. Brock took us to a fancy seafood place that overlooks the ocean. If I’d known we were going to such a nice place, I would’ve worn something better than this sundress.
“You’ll have time tomorrow,” Brock says. “I’d planned to take you car shopping but since you don’t have a license, that’ll have to wait.”
“You don’t have a license?” Trystan asks. “What the hell?”
“People don’t drive in New York,” I explain. “Well, some do but most people don’t.”
“You need a license,” Trystan says. “You can’t go anywhere out here without a car and I’m sure as hell not driving you around.”
“You will if I tell you to,” Brock says. “If you want to keep your car.”
“Stop threatening me with the car,” Trystan says. “You take it away, I’ll just have Mom get me one.”
“Then you can live with her as well,” Brock snaps. “Is that what you want?”
“No,” he mutters.
Braden glances at his brother. Trystan glances back at him, then looks away.
What’s that about? They don’t want to be with their mom? I wonder why. There’s so much I don’t know about these people, and I’m not sure they’d tell me if I asked. They seem secretive, like they don’t want me knowing stuff. It’s probably better if I don’t. I’m only here for a year. If we’re still strangers by the end of it, that’s fine with me.
