Calling Bradley to ask for an update is basically useless, since the media drama isn’t likely to faze him, unless it affects his ability to access five-star restaurants and hotels.
“Chip and I will come up and visit again in a few weeks. I’ll update you if there’s more news, and let me know if you need anything: money, supplies, whatever. I can have it sent to you if I can’t get it there myself.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“Talk soon.”
Frankie ends the call before I can respond, which is his way.
A tiny part of me wonders if there’s any merit to what the media is saying. But then I consider how my dad’s been acting since everything happened. Like Frankie, he’s been adamant that I stay here, that it’s better for me if I don’t come back to Chicago, where the media is likely to bombard me. That he’s taking care of things and he’ll get it all sorted out. My dad is a lot of things, and admittedly not the best parent or financial manager, but he wouldn’t sell me out to absolve his debt. I’m being paranoid.
I grab a glass of water and pad back to the bedroom. Dillion has moved into my empty spot and is hugging my pillow. She looks like a fallen angel when she’s sleeping. Blonde curls everywhere, pouty lips parted, long lashes brushing her cheek.
I slide back into bed beside her, trying not to move her around too much since she can be a light sleeper. But she’s not leaving me with much in the way of room, so I stretch out along her side.
She makes a contented noise, and her palm lands on my chest and slides down. She nuzzles into my neck and murmurs, “You’re cold.”
I’m not convinced she’s entirely awake, so I slip my arm under her and try to relax, but my brain is going a million miles a minute. It’s been both a blessing and a curse to be able to turn a blind eye to the mess that is my life and escape up here. But reality is going to come crashing back down eventually, and I need to prepare for that inevitability.
Dillion rolls into me, throwing her leg over mine and nuzzling closer. Eventually I match my breathing to hers. It lulls me to sleep, but it’s not peaceful.
Dillion is gone by the time I get my ass out of bed the next morning. She left a note on my pillow saying she’ll message later, and she hopes I slept okay. I also have a call from my sister.
I listen to the message and realize right away that things are not okay. Her incoherent sobbing tells me that. Which is a shocker, because Teagan doesn’t cry very often. I call her, and she answers on the second ring. I spend the next ten minutes trying to calm her down enough to be able to understand what she’s saying.
“Can I come out and stay with you for a few days? I j-j-just need to get out of the city. I can’t handle this r-r-right now.”
I’m assuming “this” has to do with whatever is going on with the investigation into the missing money and all the society gossip. “Of course you can. Do you need me to come get you?”
“N-no. Bradley said he would drive.”
“Bradley? Our brother?” Neither of us know another Bradley, so it’s a stupid, unnecessary question. Things must be particularly bad for Bradley to agree to drive her, since he thinks Grammy Bee’s cottage is worse than camping in a tent. Which he has never, ever done.
“Y-yes.” She sniffles. “I tried to tell him I was okay to drive, but he said he needed a break from all the city drama. I guess yesterday he took a client golfing, and he treated him like a criminal. These people are a bunch of assholes.”
“I’m sorry, Teag. I wish this wasn’t such a nightmare for everyone.”
“It’s not your fault. I know it wasn’t you who took that money. It’s just such a mess here. And Dad went out and bought a freaking new Porsche. As if that’s a good idea when we’re in the middle of all this crap. Hold on.” She blows her nose. “Sorry about that. My friends haven’t been very understanding. But none of them are nearly as bad as Troy.”
“What happened with Troy?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you. I don’t want to start crying again.”
I have to guess that it’s bad if my sister is at risk of shedding even more tears. “Okay, we’ll put a pin in that conversation until you get here. When are you planning on heading this way?”
“Bradley is getting his hair cut, and then I think after that. Do you need me to bring you anything? Food? Supplies? Money?”
“No, I’m okay. Just bring yourself.”
“Not even something from Hoopla’s? I’ll pick you up a treat.”
“You don’t have to do that. It’ll be out of your way.” Hoopla’s is one of my favorite bakeries in the city. They make the fanciest decadent desserts, but they don’t hold a candle to the stuff they carry in Boones, which has become my new addiction.
“I don’t mind. I’ll see you soon. I love you, Donny.”
“Love you, too, Teag. See you soon. Tell Bradley to drive safe.”
I’m actually excited to see my sister. It’s been weeks since we’ve spent any time together.
I decide it’s a good idea to tidy up and get the guest bedrooms ready. I’ve just finished putting fresh sheets on the beds in the spare room and Grammy Bee’s room when I get a call from Dillion. “Hey, beautiful, what’s up?”
“Are you breathing heavy?”
“I was moving some stuff around.”
“Uh-huh, I’m sure that’s all you were doing. Have you even gotten out of bed yet?”
“I got up nice and early, you know, so I can make good use of daylight hours. I have this neighbor who likes to ream me out if I’m too loud past ten at night.”
“Your neighbor sounds like a problem.”
“Nothing I can’t handle. Besides, I have other things I like to do after ten that are way more fun, especially since it’s my neighbor being loud, not me.” I lean against the doorjamb, my gaze catching on the patched drywall behind the headboard.
“I’m not loud!”
“You’re not quiet, either, and that’s a good thing, Dillion. I’m a big fan of the sound of your orgasms. In fact, I can’t wait to hear them later.” I cringe when I remember that my sister and brother are going to be here tonight, sleeping down the hall from me. Which means those orgasms I’m getting all excited about aren’t going to happen. “Actually, I might have to take a raincheck on that. My sister called and asked if she can come up and visit for a couple of days.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes and no. I think something might have gone down with her boyfriend, but I’m not sure what. She said she’d tell me when she gets here. My brother is driving.”
“Oh no. Well, you’ll obviously want some family time.”
“You can still meet them, though? You could come for dinner?” I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve invited a woman to meet my family. I definitely like her enough to stage an introduction. The fact that Dillion can cook doesn’t hurt, either, especially since my sister makes salads, and baked goods she rarely eats, and Bradley’s skill set ends at dialing for takeout.
“Do you want me to come for dinner?”
“I always want you to come. And I love eating you for dinner, but it might be awkward with my family there.”
She snickers. “Oh my God, you’re the worst. Maybe it’s better for me to skip family dinner.”
“Don’t skip dinner. I’d love for you to meet Teagan and Bradley.” My brother is high on the pretentious side, but hopefully he’ll be on his best behavior with Dillion present.
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay. Should I pick anything up? A bottle of wine? Something for dinner?”
“I was thinking I’d make it easy and grill burgers.” Mostly because it’s the only thing I can make that I don’t mess up. Even my grilled cheese sandwiches end up burnt most of the time.
“You can’t just have burgers, Van. I’ll make a salad. Oh, and potato salad. Or loaded double-baked potatoes.”
“Loaded double-baked potatoes?”
<
br /> “Yeah, you bake them, then scoop out the insides and mix them with butter, sour cream, bacon, chives, and cheese and bake them again.”
“Those sound heavenly and like they require a workout afterward. The naked kind.”
“Well, that’s not happening with your family visiting, since as you mentioned before, I’m not very quiet. Looks like you’ll have to go for an after-dinner run. Speaking of running, I’ve got a meeting in twenty. I’ll see you later tonight.”
She ends the call before I can fire off a snarky comeback.
CHAPTER 20
BROTHERLY NO LOVE
Van
Bradley and Teagan don’t arrive until almost five. I’m guessing my brother is the reason for the delay. They’re also driving his lemon-yellow Porsche convertible. Bradley always likes to make a statement, and his car certainly does that. It screams rich, entitled, and ostentatious. At least my BMW is black and less in your face. Subdued pretention, if you will.
“Wow, this place is . . . more of a heap than I remember.” Bradley slams his car door shut and looks around, cringing when he eyes the pile of trash bags I have yet to take to the dump. They’re leaning against Billy’s car graveyard. Apparently, he has plans to fix them all up. I’m not sure there will actually be anything left of them by the time he gets around to it other than rust and dust, but they’re not on my property, and I honestly don’t care either way.
Teagan gets out of the passenger side. I smile at her outfit. It’s definitely her version of dressed down. She’s wearing a pair of high-top rhinestone-encrusted running shoes—likely bought as a gift from my dad because she said they were fun—camo-print capris, an artfully torn tank top that probably cost a small fortune, and Gucci sunglasses. Her hair is pulled up in her definition of a messy ponytail.
She runs over and throws her arms around me. “Don’t listen to him. He’s in a mood because he had to drive on a dirt road, and he’s worried about chips in his paint. I’ve missed you. I miss Sunday brunch and cocktail hours and sane conversations.”
I return the embrace, inhaling the familiar scent of Chanel No. 5, her favorite perfume, which also happened to be what our mother wore. Which means in two minutes or less she’s going to be swarmed by mosquitos and a whole host of other bugs that will find her amazingly delicious.
“Why don’t I grab your bag, and you can come inside. We can start with cocktail hour.”
“You have no idea how badly I need a drink.”
I grab my sister’s hot-pink metallic cheetah-print suitcase from the trunk and leave my brother to manage his own bag. It’s funny to watch him struggle with dragging it across the pebbled driveway.
“The deck looks new.”
“It is. Leveled it all and rebuilt it myself. Figured I had the time, and it wasn’t in very good shape.”
She threads her arm through mine. “Look at you being all handy! It looks great.”
“I don’t know why you’d bother to replace anything. Looks like a bonfire waiting to happen,” Bradley grumbles from behind us.
“Bradley, don’t be such a grump.” She squeezes my biceps. “I love this place. It’s so . . . rustic and cozy. I can’t believe I haven’t been here since I was a teenager.” She opens the door for me. “Oh wow. I don’t think it’s changed one bit.”
“That’s a pity,” Bradley sighs.
I arch a brow. “Dude, are you trying out for the morose emo teenager role in some community production, because if you are, you have it nailed. Rest assured you’ll get the part.”
He gives me an unimpressed look. “Ha-ha.”
“Seriously, go take a nap and hit your reset button. No one is forcing you to be here or wants to listen to you bitch about the lack of five-star accommodations. If it bothers you so much, you can take a drive to the other side of the lake and knock on some doors. Maybe someone will adopt you for a couple of days.”
“Oh, now that’s an idea. I heard there’s all kinds of retired hockey players with places out here now. Do you think any of them have college-aged daughters who are looking for a mature, employed date this weekend? Or just a hookup.” I’d laugh, but by the look on my brother’s face, I think he’s being serious.
“Do you think hooking up with the daughter of a former professional athlete is a good idea? Also, this seems premeditated, which means you’ve actually thought about this. Probably in more detail than is reasonable.”
“Of course I’ve thought about it.” My brother drops his bag on the floor and doesn’t bother to take off his shoes as he walks across the carpet, surveying the cottage with mild disgust. “Have you seen the cribs these guys have? Top-of-the-line everything. And I’m a good catch. I have a job; I have a nice car; I’m nice to look at. What more could a woman want?”
“Someone with an ego that isn’t the size of Canada.”
“I’m just stating facts, Van. It has nothing to do with ego. Don’t be sore because you’re unemployed and I’m better looking than you. Imagine marrying into a family like that. The wedding present would probably be a house. Maybe one on this lake.” He grins, likely enjoying my irritation. Bradley is very good at pushing my buttons.
Teagan rolls her eyes. “You’re not better looking than Van.” She turns to me. “He talked about this the entire time we were in the car. He tried to rent a party barge on the way here so he could hatch his master plan, but since he doesn’t have a boater’s license and there’s no trailer hitch on the Porsche, he couldn’t.”
“You can’t tell me it wasn’t a good idea. Party barges are all the rage. Everyone has one. When you have a job again, you should definitely get one.”
“I’ll put that right at the top of my list.” I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. “You guys want to settle into your rooms and then we can get on making cocktails?”
“I get dibs on the blue room.” Teagan grabs her bag and rushes down the hall to the room Bradley and I used to share when we were kids. It has two single beds and is still decorated to suit a teenage boy, but I’m guessing she knows I’ve already taken the other bedroom.
“Where should I sleep?” Bradley eyes the floral-patterned couch from the eighties.
“You can take Grammy Bee’s room.”
Bradley crosses his arms. “Oh, hell no. It’s probably haunted. And that mattress has to be the same one Grammy slept on when Grampy was still alive. Why should I have to sleep in the haunted room? Why don’t you take that room and I’ll take your room?”
I mirror his pose. “Because the room isn’t haunted, and the mattress in there is new.” This is a bald-faced lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. “And I’m not changing my sheets. Plus, all my stuff is already in the spare room. If you don’t like it, you can book yourself a room in the closest motel. There’s one outside of town.”
Bradley looks absolutely horrified. “I’m not staying in a motel.”
“Then I guess this is going to have to do, unless you want to use the pullout couch.” I thumb over my shoulder. “But those are your options.”
Bradley huffs a sigh. “This is the thanks I get for coming to visit. You’re turning into a real barbarian, you know that, Van?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He waves me off and heads down the hall to Grammy Bee’s bedroom, grumbling the entire way.
I leave him to it and go in search of Teagan, who I find standing between the twin beds, head down, her hands on her hips.
“You okay?” I lean against the doorjamb.
She startles and gives me a small smile, but her chin trembles. “I’m sorry about Bradley. He’s more temperamental than a cat.” She takes off her sunglasses and tosses them on one of the beds. And I finally see the reason she’s been wearing them. Her eyes are red and puffy.
“Teag? What happened?”
“Troy broke up with me.” Her smile dissolves, and she tips her head back, trying to keep the tears from falling.
“He what? Why?” I like Troy about as much as I
like mosquito bites on my nuts, but they’ve been together for four years. While I don’t care for him, at least he seemed to love my sister, so I kept my opinion to myself.
She dabs at her eyes with the hem of her tank. “Last week he said he couldn’t handle it anymore. My family drama was impacting his social status, and he couldn’t be associated with thieves.”
“Are you serious? That douchebag. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, so please don’t blame yourself. I honestly should’ve seen this coming. I mean, fifty percent of the reason I was dating him in the first place is because Dad approved and thought he’d be good ‘marriage material.’” She makes air quotes around the words marriage material.
“It doesn’t make it hurt less.”
“No. It really doesn’t.”
I open my arms and she steps into them, allowing me to fold her into a hug.
“I miss you, Donny.”
“I miss you too. I feel bad that I’m leaving you to deal with all this crap on your own.”
“I’m not alone. Dad and Bradley are there.”
I release her and step back, arching a brow. “No offense, but that’s about the same as being alone.” I wish she could come here and escape, too, but I know she won’t leave Dad on his own. It must suck to be twenty-six years old and unable to move on with her own life because our father refuses to move on with his.
She chuckles wryly. “It could be worse.” She pats my chest. “Come on. Let’s make a nice stiff drink, and you can tell us all about your projects and what you’ve been doing.”
“For sure.” I run a nervous hand through my hair. “I should tell you that my neighbor is coming over to have dinner with us. If you’re okay with that.”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay with that? And which neighbor?”
“Dillion, the one Grammy Bee called Lynnie. I don’t know if you remember her from when we were kids. She didn’t really come around, but sometimes she’d be on the dock next door or whatever.” I rub the back of my neck.
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