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“Damn this weather,” Gabe says as rain drizzles from the clouds. “Hopefully, it’ll ease up a bit before tomorrow’s … tournament.”
“Shit, I didn’t even think about that.” Easton shoves the door open to get out. “What’ll we do if it rains?”
“Still have it probably.” Gabe starts to get out but pauses, glancing at me. “Our family participates in baseball tournaments every Sunday.”
Unsure why he’s telling me this, I nod. “Sounds cool.”
He offers me a stiff smile. “We’ll be gone all day, which means you’ll get the house to yourself.”
That thought sounds nice, although I feel a bit hurt he didn’t invite me to go. Then again, I’m not part of their family. Just some strange girl they got stuck with. I’m not even sure if my dad talked to Gabe before he listed him in their will to be my guardian.
What if he didn’t? What if all Gabe’s tense smiles are because I’m not really wanted here. Foster and Easton don’t seem too thrilled about my presence. Maybe that’s how the entire family feels.
Forcing a smile, I say, “Okay.”
His lips part, appearing as though he wants to say more, but then he gets out of the car.
Easton and Foster follow without saying a word, and none of them wait for me as they start up the paved walkway that leads to the double-doored, column-lined entrance of the colossal house.
Sucking in a breath, I steady my nerves and climb out of the truck. My boots splash in the puddles as I trail behind them, taking in the massive house, the spacious yard, and the five-car garage. I can’t even wrap my head around how big and fancy this place is, and it leaves me feeling confused.
How does my dad know someone who can afford a place like this? As far as I know, he grew up living in poverty in Honeyton.
I really need to talk to Gabe and hear the story, but maybe after a few days when I’ve gotten settled and used to the idea of all this.
“I hope Charlotte made dinner already,” Easton announces as he pushes open the front doors. “Moving shit makes me hungry.”
“It’s not even five o’clock,” Foster says as he steps inside. “It’s not going to be ready yet.”
“I can request an early dinner,” Gabe tells them. “Just let me check in with your mom first and see if she’s okay with it.”
“Who’s Charlotte?” I find myself asking as I step inside and take everything in.
Holy shit, this place is huge, with a high, peaked ceiling, a wide staircase, black and white tiled floors, and the glitteriest chandeliers I’ve ever seen—maybe the only chandeliers I’ve ever seen.
I’m never going to feel comfortable here.
“She’s our cook and housekeeper,” Gabe tells me. “If you need anything to eat at all, you can ask her.”
Yeah, I’m not sure I feel comfortable with that.
“Can I just make my own food?” I ask, feeling very uncomfortable at the moment.
Is this how I’m going to feel every day?
Gabe gives me a strange, concerned look. “You’re more than welcome to if you want, but just know the option is there.”
I force yet another strained smile. “Thanks.”
His smile mirrors mine but morphs into a real one when a woman with flowing blonde hair appears at the top of the stairwa
y.
She looks around the same age as my mom, but that’s about where the similarities stop. Where my mom is all torn jeans and leather jackets with wild curls, this woman is sporting a flawless white pencil dress, matching heels, and a string of pearls decorates her neck.
“That took you longer than I thought.” She starts down the stairway, each of her steps graceful.
Her words make no sense at all. How could she think we’d be back sooner when I’m not even sure how the guys managed to move everything so quickly?
