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“One of the best. James loving on those two was the end for me, I swear.”
“They’ve both always had a soft spot for Charlie’s kids,” I supplied, feigning indifference with no more finesse than Junebug as I attempted not to watch every move of their theatrical game.
“You guys talking about kids?”
I nearly choked on my wine before my brows winged up. “Excuse me?”
“You were just here helping prep this morning?” she said dryly, laying the skepticism on thick. If by ‘prep’ she meant fucking each other’s brains out so our lust wouldn’t infect the whole gathering, then yes, we were prepping.
“Yeah,” I said, voice tighter than it could be if it needed to convince anyone.
“Prep what?” She laughed. “Slicing canned cranberry sauce?”
“That stuff is shit. We made ours fresh,” I bit back, smirking.
“Sure,” she said, arching a brow, but then beaming as a tiny voice bellowed for Jameson.
“Unca James!!! Help!” Sterling squealed as he bolted around the long dining table, still covered in dessert and abandoned plates and drinks.
Jameson’s head snapped up from his conversation with Charlie, and he threw Noel a wink before taking a nearly identical dinosaur stance to Broderick’s and bellowing a, “Raaawr!”
“Don’t wait too long, El. Good men only come around once or twice in a lifetime.”
Blinking, I turned to my friend who knew that reality more than any woman ever should. For the first time, the truth tiptoed down the length of my tongue before I beat it back. “Yeah, I just gotta find one.”
The lie tasted sour. Because we both knew the man tickling the dickens out of my cousin’s ridiculously cute kid was the best of the best.
It was as Broderick’s elated brown eyes found mine that my stomach twisted. Leaving on Monday was going to be the most acute kind of torture.
TWENTY-TWO
BRODERICK
I glanced at my watch before movement at the end of the street caught my attention, and then I didn’t bother to bite back my smile. Waiting in the misty alleyway between houses while pretending to take out my trash probably wasn’t the smartest deterrent for nosy neighbors, but the street was quiet, the houses dark and the world soft with winter snow. Like a happy little penguin, El waddled around the corner, wrapped in one too many layers to convince anybody she’d grown up here. The snow had given the entire town that soft, almost unnaturally quiet kind of tranquility and the crunch of her feet was the only sound between us. She looked uneasy on the icy street, like she’d forgotten how to keep her feet on the slick surface.
Leaning into my gate, I pushed it open, making room for her to dart past me and through my dark yard before we zipped inside.
Rounding on her, I couldn’t help but mirror her smile, her cheeks rosy with cold as she beamed up at me. “Hey, stranger.”
“Hey, baby,” I breathed, still in a bit of disbelief that this was finally our reality, closing the distance and weaving our fingers together. The kiss we shared was gentle, leisurely, free of that desperate lust that ran us haggard. Her scent filled my lungs as I tasted her lips, and the sweet lingering hint of mint. Like she’d brushed her teeth before heading this way. “Sneak out okay?”
“Yeah, I don’t think anybody noticed.” A full body shiver wracked down her frame when she peeled off her winter coat, and I chuckled as she blew out a frozen breath. Skintight leggings and an oversized…
“Is that my Mistyvale University hoodie?”
“Maybe. I didn’t let James see it, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
That did something disconcerting to my chest. Thirty-five-year-olds could have heart attacks, couldn’t they? Needing to redirect, I just shook my head and said, “Can’t say I’m surprised they wanted you to stay with them.” Jameson and Noel had passionately insisted El stay at the big house with them. When their parents, Milo and Juniper, retired to Florida, leaving the boat to James, the reigning Captain Rhodes moved into the family’s main house. With the two of them keeping the family property and business running, Jameson’s old place became a vacation rental that turned a pretty profit. This time of year was dead for tourists, though, so she could’ve stayed there if they’d been a little less insistent.
“Good luck arguing with either of them, though. Am I right?”
“That would be impossible.”
“At least I know all the sneaky creaky floorboards,” she said with a mischievous grin. I narrowed my eyes, remembering teenage life in that old oceanside house.
“You climbed out the window, didn’t you?”
“And didn’t hit a single creaky board on the way,” she quipped back without missing a beat.
