Page 11 of Peaches & Pistols

I feel like a fucking creep, lurking off to the side of this cheerful family conversation. I shove my hands into my pockets, so I don’t do anything stupid, and saunter forward to stand in Mia’s line of sight.

Her eyes flick up to me and back down, too quick to catch their color.

“What, uh, brings you to Swiftwater, Mia?” I struggle to ask, as if cobwebs have been clogging my throat.

She looks to Cecelia who nods with a bright smile of reassurance.

Mia lifts her head and clears her throat softly. Her eyes are a hint lighter than Everly’s, like an evening sky, still lit by the setting sun.

“We were just passing through. But Mrs. Andersen⁠—”

“Cecelia, dear,” the Andersen matriarch insists, interrupting Mia.

“Um, Cecelia, said there might be a job for me here. So, we might stay.” She finishes and immediately averts her eyes.

I unexplainably need her to stay in Swiftwater more than I need my next breath.

“What’s the job? Something at Swift Property Management?” I ask.

Cecelia shakes her head with a smile pursing her lips.

“Here at Lucky Spurs?” She shakes her head again, eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Let’s give Mia some space while the girls play. Mia, our family can be a lot.” Cecelia winks and stands from the patio with more difficulty in her older years.

With a tip of her head toward the house, I follow her inside where she clicks the door shut behind us.

“What’s going on?” I snap, harsher than I intend, but the family expects it from me.

“Make yourself useful and set the table,” Izzy snarks, returning to help Delilah finish cooking dinner.

Knowing I’m not getting anything out of them right now, I do as I’m told, setting enough places for all twelve of us around the grand dining table.

“Who made you their bitch?” James says, slapping me on the back so hard I have to catch myself on the table top.

“Setting the table makes me a bitch?”

“I can’t remember the last time you set this table. So, it’s a fair assessment,” he says. Fair point, but he’s also a dick. “That’s a shit load of plates, are we having a party I didn’t know about?” he asks.

“Cecelia has…guests.” I don’t know why but I don’t want to share my knowledge about Mia with him. I want to keep her for myself.

Chaos ensues as Reid and Connor burst through the front door and tromp into the kitchen, both freshly showered after a long, hot day on the ranch.

Sharp fingertips stab into my flanks. “What the fuck?” I shout, spinning around to find Olivia smiling like the cat who got the cream.

“You little shit.” I move to chase her. Even at nearly forty years old, sibling dynamics never die.

She darts to hide behind James. Of-fucking-course. I swear they forget how to be adults when they’re around each other.

All I want is to get back outside to study Mia, but James is right, I’m stuck in here being Izzy and Delilah’s bitch until we get dinner on the table.

I can’t keep my eyes off her. I grow more obsessed with her with every minute that passes.

My plate’s empty, but I couldn’t tell you what was for dinner any more than I could tell you how many stars are in the sky.

She filled Everly’s plate first, even when Cecelia insisted on doing it for her. She also pushed Mia to serve herself first, but Mia waited to until everyone else had their turn. Anything her daughter needed, Mia immediately made happen. She responded to questions politely but never asked any of her own. She shared soft smiles with everyone but me, probably because I’m creeping on her like a stalker.

“Greyson.” Hearing my name breaks me from my trance. “School starts next week, doesn’t it?” Cecelia asks.