“What?” Wynnter grunts, sopeopley personof him.
“Hey, Wynn! Have you ever thought,Man, I wish I didn’t have to pay this rent all by myself?Well then, have I got a deal for you…”
Chapter 2
?
Of course I’m planning to commit arson with my future brother-in-law.
Alister
I knew that August Winslow was crazy. If I’m perfectly honest, that’s part of her charm. Her bold, unfiltered confidence is what attracted me to her as a person, back before I even knew she was a woman, but seeing her for the first time in the flesh?
No number of back-and-forth emails could have prepared me for how violently the sight of her seized my heart.
Petite, messy-bunned, freckled.
She was a vision.
And I am more determined than ever to be whatever she wants me to be.
Hence, why I’m here. Sitting sandwiched between Leeann and Lynn on a couch in a rustic cabin, across from the narrowed brown eyes of her brother, Wynnter.
Obscenely large, the man clearly robbed the genepool of all height and girth prior to his baby sister’s conception, and I do wonder if it’d be appropriate to thank him for that. But, maybe for the moment, I should just stay quiet and let the women on either side of me finish their explanation of the situation.
While they ramble, Wynnter’s disgruntled attitude wafts into the room, coarse as sandpaper, rife with unfettered judgment. It weighs in the air all the way up until his grandmother declares, “Andthat’swhy we need you to volunteer your home for a little while, just until we can figure out how to get Alister and August together.”
At some point, Wynnter’s eyes became barely perceptible slits. Unlatching his freckled fingers from his knees, he rolls his monumental shoulders back, andglares. At me. “You’re…in love with my sister?”
“Yep.”
He cuts those speckled fingers of his through his dark hair, rustling the strands. “And you can’t just…tell her that?”
“Unfortunately,” I say, planting a pitying hand against my chest, “I am not blond, so a mere declaration of affection probably wouldn’t work.”
Wynnter’s glare settles on the pale strands of hair presently perched atop my head.
“This is a wig,” I inform him.
“A wig.”
“Yes.”
“You’re wearing a wig to convince my sister that you’re blond.”
“Yes.” Perfectly normal behavior, if I do say so myself.
Humor contorts Wynnter’s face until it’s notexactlya smile I’m looking at, is it? No, I don’t think so. It’s something else. Something only vaguelyamused. “Why the—” He swears. “—does August want to be with a blond guy?”
I say, “She’s fascinated by the princely anime archetype. And, unfortunately, many of those characters are blond.”
Wynnter swears again. “—cartoons.” Hefting a sigh, he shakes his head. “You’re Mrs. Beth’s grandson?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Huh.” He tosses his arm over the couch cushions, glancing sidelong at the dormant wood fireplace sitting at the height of this living room. “You know my sister’s basically insane, right?”
I smile. “That is, perhaps, my favorite part.”
