He didn’t sound good the last time we spoke.
As if my thoughts conjured him into existence, the garage door rolls up, revealing him standing there with his hands on his hips.He ducks under the still-opening door and heads my way.
Despite wanting to flee, I grin back at him. And it’smostlya natural response. Of all the people who live in this house, he’s the least harmful to my psyche.
As soon as I open the car door and rise to my feet, he’s there. Not with his arms out for a warm embrace. We don’t hug in this family.Instead, he’s got his hand extended for a shake.
I glance down, then take it begrudgingly. “Hi, Dad.”
“Welcome home, Reed. We’ve missed you.”
I almost believe him.However, thewepart of the sentence doesn’t ring true.
He bends to peer into the back seat. “How much do you have to bring in? Should I get the girls to help?”
“Girls? Did you have another daughter while I was away?”
“Lila is sleeping over this weekend. She might as well live here.” He rolls his eyes. “At least she’s a nice kid.”
Ah yes. I should’ve known.Lila is my sister’s best friend and barnacle.
I pop the trunk. “I don’t need any help. It’s not that much. Just a few boxes that I’ll stash in the garage for now. And one suitcase I’ll take to my room. I can get it all on my own. Why don’t you go inside and get out of the heat?”
He waves me off with a huff. “I might be old, but I can still roll a suitcase or carry a box fifteen feet.”
“Don’t expect me to rub your back later,” my mother calls.
I whip my head around to see her standing in the doorway that connects the garage to the house. She’s got a kitchen towel slung over her shoulder.
And she looks pissed.
As expected.
“Hey, Mom.”
She offers me a look that could probably pass for a smile in some other dimension. “Hi, son. Glad you’re home.” Her fake kind-adjacent expression shifts back into her typical sour puss in a heartbeat. “You’re late. Dinner’s almost ready.”Without waiting for a response, she turns on her heel and storms back inside.
From the corner of my eye, I see my dad’s shoulders slump and head fall. A frustrated growl escapes him. “She’s in a mood.”
“Some things never change,” I mumble, getting a grin out of the old man.
As quickly as possible, I race through the house and drag my suitcase upstairs to my room. I don’t need to give Mom more ammunition to be pissed at me. And telling her I was late because I didn’t want to come probably won’t earn me any brownie points.
Or cookie points, judging by the smell. Guess she’s been baking.Mom’s cookies are her only redeemable quality. And I don’t care if that makes me an asshole. It’s the fucking truth.
As I trudge down the stairs, the scent of vanilla and sugar still fills the air. But it’s masked with the savory aroma of whatever we’re having for dinner.
When I hit the edge of the living room, my legs bring me to an abrupt stop at the dick-twitching sight before me.
Bare feet with sexy as fuck red toenail polish. A silver bracelet sparkling around one ankle. Soft ivory skin that’s been kissed by the sun.
I take another step so I can see the full woman while praying to any god who’ll listen that this isn’t my adopted sister I’m instantly drooling over.
A quick scan of shape and size tells me it isn’t Kenzie.Thank fuck.So I allow myself the pleasure of drinking her up.
Whoever she is, she’s sitting on the carpet with her back against the couch, flipping through a magazine. Her damp hair rests on one shoulder, chestnut brown with gold streaks. A black tank top with pink bra straps peeking out on both sides.
I blink twice, hoping the vision doesn’t disappear.
