“I have a favor to ask,” she said.
Noah chuckled. “You usually do.”
“It’s about Callie,” Liv began.
Noah drew up short at the mention of his little sister’s best friend. He was not looking forward to a week in close proximity with the woman. She still always seemed to know exactly how to get under Noah’s skin. Once upon a time, he’d welcomed her there, but that was before. Now he knew better. It was best for everyone if he and Callie kept their distance.
“Mrs. Cole’s in Ohio again. Mom offered to drive Callie to the wedding, but she’s been house sitting for us in Brooklyn for the last few nights so she’s closer to Long Island than Jersey and she would have such a better time if she drove with you.”
“Absolutely not.”
Noah Van Aller never said no to his little sister. That is how he wound up proofreading countless high school term papers in between his own schoolwork for his master’s program. It was the reason he learned to French braid when he was a teenager and Liv, only in elementary school at the time, begged him to help her get ready for her dance recitals. It was why he learned to make chocolate chip pancakes just right so that the chocolate didn’t burn when the pancake flipped. And it was the reason he knew he was about to agree to being trapped in a car for four hours with Calandria Cole, but she couldn’t blame a guy for at least pretending to put up a fight.
“Please, Noah? For me?”
Noah scrubbed his hand over his face. “Why can’t she drive herself?”
“She just can’t,” Liv said on the other end of the phone, as if that should be sufficient reason for him to give up his podcast-listening time. “Why are you being difficult? It’s just Callie.”
Noah took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his rising blood pressure. He hadn’t been alone for more than a few minutes with Callie in six years—not since her twenty-first birthday—and for damn good reason.
“Please, Noah. It’s my wedding.”
“I can’t wait until you aren’t able to pull the wedding card anymore.” On the other end of the phone, his sister laughed. He closed his eyes, his stomach in knots. “Okay. I’ll pick her up tomorrow morning.”
“You’re the best, big brother.”
“Don’t you forget it.”
∞∞∞
At nine o’clock sharp on Saturday morning, Noah pulled into a parking space outside the Brooklyn townhouse his sister shared with her fiancé. As he climbed out of his car, Callie appeared in the doorway to the townhouse, her red hair shining in the sunlight and her shoulders weighed down by heavy looking bags. Even struggling with her mismatched luggage, she was stunning. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid that fell over one shoulder—the style she often favored in recent years—and when she smiled, he felt that smile all the way down to his toes.
He scowled, pushing down the warmth that tried to spread through him at the sight of her, and took the steps to the door two at a time.
“Are you trying to hurt yourself?” he asked, lifting the bags from her shoulders and slinging them over his own. Her smile faltered.Good. This will be easier if we aren’t too friendly, he told himself. It was true, even if he felt anything butgoodabout it.
“I can handle it,” she said as she pulled a wheeled suitcase through the door behind her.
Noah grumbled and took that from her as well. He would not be responsible for his little sister’s maid of honor throwing her back out before she even got to the damn wedding.
“You can handle finding us some good road trip music while I load up the trunk.”
“It just so happens I have the perfect playlist,” Callie said as she slid into the passenger seat of Noah’s Toyota Corolla.
Noah groaned. “Am I going to regret giving you control over the music?”
“Oh, absolutely.” Callie connected her phone to the car’s sound system. A moment later, the unmistakable opening notes ofLivin’ on a Prayerpoured from the speakers. Noah arched an eyebrow at her as he slipped into the seat. “I may have thrown in a few songs for you,” she said.
Callie and Liv delighted in mocking Noah about his love for 80s hair bands, so he knew she had likely meant it as a jab, adding a few of the band’s greatest hits along with her perplexing mix of folk, alt rock covers, and 90s R&B. It was hard to be annoyed with someone while classic Bon Jovi was playing, though.
“Thanks for giving me a ride,” she said.
“No problem.” Noah steered the car back into traffic. “Is there a reason you weren’t able to drive yourself?”
“My car’s in the shop again.” Callie sank deeper into her seat and avoided his eyes. “It’s fine. It just wasn’t up for the drive.”
“That’s because it’s a piece of crap. You need to get a new car.”
