As Tessa moves over to introduce herself to the girls, I hear Bailey exclaim, “Your wings are so pretty!”
A short, dark-haired woman with a feather trimmed witches’ hat and a black tulle skirt steps forward, shaking my hand next. “I’m Darci, Lou’s oldest sister. My kids are over there—” she says, pointing toward where there’s a giant Jenga set up, along with a bean-bag tic-tac-toe board drawn onto the pavement. “Please, make sure to check everything out before you leave for the evening. Tessa’s fresh donuts are in the barn, as well as Mom’s homemade cider. Trick-or-Treating starts in about ten minutes.”
“Thank you for having us. This all looks amazing,” I tell her. “Lou has been talking about this event for weeks, of course we had to come check it out. I’ve lived here my whole life and didn’t know about this.”
“Well, have so much fun, and it was nice to meet you,” she says, then heads off toward her kids.
“Dad, can we go play, too?” Bailey asks, dragging the fairy sister, Tessa with her by the hand.
“That’s fine, just stay where I can have eyes on you,” I say, and all three of my girls race over toward the games, Tessa in tow.
The last woman steps forward, a vivid blue wig on her head. A Grecian style toga in a shimmery black material is wrapped around her body, and a serious looking camera is suspendedaround her neck. She holds her hand out to me, and Lou says, “This is Sienna, another one of my older sisters. She’s the wedding photographer that got me the in with Andi.”
“Ahh,” I murmur, shaking her hand. “I know Louise is excited to start her new job.”
“I knew she would get it if she just tried,” the second oldest Miller sister laughs. “She’s been hemming and hawing over it for months. I’m just glad she finally did it and got it before Andi filled the position. And what do you do?”
I point over to the bush rig and my coworkers. “I’m the Assistant Chief of the Petoskey Fire Department.”
“Ohhh,” her sister says appreciatively. She bobbles her eyebrows at Louise, who rolls her eyes and sighs. “Very nice, Lou.”
“Ohmygod,” she mutters, dropping her face into her hand. “Would you all go away? You’ve been nosy and got the introductions out of the way, now get.”
All of the Miller women laugh but do head off in different directions to begin prepping for the arrival of guests. Lou and I wander closer to the firetruck and my guys, who are all wearing their turnout gear, though they’ve left the heavy jackets and helmets off. Several big plastic tote bins are full of candy in the back of the bush rig, ready for Trick-or-Treaters.
“Louise, you remember Tommy,” I say, reintroducing her to our rehab volunteer. “And this is Nate, one of our Captains.” Nate shakes Lou’s hand. “And you know Chief.”
“Thank you so much for putting in for a spot, and for being a sponsor,” Louise says, shaking Chief’s hand. “We appreciate it so much.”
He grins down at her before crossing his arms over his chest. “Anything for the kids. Wish I’d known about this sooner. We’d have done a sponsorship years ago.”
“We’re kind of a well-kept secret,” Lou admits, laughing.
“What the hell is he wearing?” I hear Nate mutter to Tommy, and then turn around.
Oh. Hell. No.
“Hey, brother,” Joel chirps as he walks up to us, clapping his hand on my back. I glare at him, but he just grins before turning his attention to my girl.
“Okay, but this is impressive!” Louise laughs, her eyes trailing over my younger brother, a wide grin on her face. She looks up at me, and I just know whatever comes out of her mouth next is going to earn her a punishment. And she knows it, too, the little brat. “This whole sexy Bowser thing is… hot.”
“Glad you approve, because I’m here to steal a princess,” Joel says and the motherfucker winks.
His black motorcycle boots, tight jeans, one of his too-small t-shirts in a mustard yellow with the sleeves rolled up to show more of his muscular biceps, a black leather vest, and a green ‘turtle shell’ with white spikes is strapped to his back. He styled his fashionably too long hair into a faux-hawk and spray painted it a deep red, and he has horns somehow magically attached to his head, and his glasses are perched on his nose.
Is premeditated murder reallythatbad? Because I’m very seriously considering it.
“You should have dressed up, man,” Joel chuffs, shrugging his shoulders. “Come on, Peach, show me around.”
Leaning down, I whisper in Lou’s ear for only her to hear, “Your ass is mine, Princess.”
She winks up at me before linking her arm with my pain in the ass, girlfriend stealing brother, then pecks my cheek and whispers back, “That’s what I’m hoping for.”
Fucking brat.
Forty-Six
Louise
