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“I know you wouldn’t.” It’s time to drop it. I love my brother. We’ve been through too much shit together to fight. “Are you two going to lunch?”
He knows I’m done discussing it. He nods. “You want us to bring you back anything?”
“No,” I mumble. The tension rolls off him. Damn it. I shouldn’t have said anything. Tug would never try to come between Tori and I again. “Are we good?”
“We’re good.” He smiles and comes at me. I back away from the sarcastic twerp when he tries to wrap me in a hug, but he keeps coming. “Come on, give Tuggy a hug.”
He’s certifiable. “No way, man.” I hold out an arm to keep him at bay. “Get off me.”
“I’m truly offended.” He stops and laughs. “I’m trying to make nice here.”
“Consider nice made,” I assure him. “Now go feed my girls.”
Tug turns to leave. He stops at the doorway before turning to face me. “Seriously, though. We’re good, but you’re going to have to tell Tori.”
He’s right. “I will.”
Chapter 3
Tori
As Tug and I stroll out of the house, Jesse’s beat-up van pulls into the driveway. With a quick wave, Jesse drives off to the side. He parks, leaving enough room for Tug to back out.
I tense when the side door of the van slides open. Davey steps out. His jeans hang low – too low – belted just above the knees. The majority of his plaid boxers is exposed. He stares right at me. His hand slips up under his dirty T-shirt to scratch his gut. He’s not fat, but he’s not fit, either.
I snap my eyes away to Jesse, who smiles brightly when he sees me. He waves. Chad gets out of the passenger side, wearing only board shorts, a beer in hand. He smiles, hoisting his beer up in greeting.
His tanned, shirtless frame glistens in the sun, along with his shoulder-length blond hair. I laugh, wondering if he even owns a shirt. I’ve never seen him wear one. Tug walks over to the van. I follow behind him. My gaze stays on Tug’s back to avoid eye contact with Davey, although I feel his eyes on me. After bumping fists with Tug, Jesse gives me a hug. He squats down to my belly and says hello to Mona. When he stands, he rubs a circle over my bump. This is his routine. Say hi to the baby, rub my bump, and then say hello to me.
“You’re looking beautiful as ever,” Jesse compliments me. Chad follows next with a big hug and a hello. Davey doesn’t say anything to me. He nods a chin at Tug. His dark hair is greasy. I can’t help but wonder when he last showered. It’s a shame, really. If he cleaned up a bit, he’d be a halfway decent-looking guy. I guess that goes for his insides, too. If he softened up, he’d be more approachable.
Jesse and Chad grew up with Brady. I’ve known them most of my life. They’ve become a staple in the house since they all decided to form a band. I’m extremely fond of both of them. Davey is the late and unwelcome arrival to the group. He showed up a couple of weeks ago with all of his uncomfortable angst. Glancing over at Davey sends a twinge of guilt through me. Maybe I’m not giving him a fair shot. Am I being too hard on him simply because he’s the “new guy”? So he has a past. Brady has a past, and I found a way to love him. I should try to be nice to Davey.
I force a smile. It’s awkward and doesn’t fit right on my face. “Hi, Davey. How are you?”
“Good.”
His quick reply comes without a smile or a trace of sincerity. He’s going to make trying difficult. His stare unnerves me. I suddenly feel more uneasy. My skin crawls. I shake my shoulders and do my best not to cringe.
Tug saves me. “Tori and I are off to lunch. Brady’s in the studio. We’ll catch you guys later.”
The three of them take the path to the side of the house toward the door that leads into the studio from the outside.
I wait until they’ve turned the corner before I turn to Tug and say, “See! He’s a total creeper.”
Tug laughs and makes his way to the driver’s side of his car.
I lower myself into Tug’s Porsche while he puts the top down. Heat radiates from the leather seats, nearly burning my skin. I break out in a sweat. Nearly eight months pregnant in the dead of summer sucks. If I ever decide to have another kid, I’m going to plan it better. Plan it, period.
Tug loves this car. It’s a far cry from the Honda he used to drive. Then again, Tug is a far cry from the man he used to be. It’s still hard for me to believe that he’s in charge of a billion-dollar company. Sometimes I’m not sure I recognize the man he’s become.
He pulls a bag from the back seat. It has a baby screaming its head off on it. I’m sure he thinks it’s hilarious. He hands it to me with a boyish smile on his face. Now, that’s a look I recognize. “A little something for Mona to wear.”
I’m instantly su
spicious.
I open the bag and pull out a tiny pink onesie. As I hold it up, I see the writing on the front. I laugh when I read it and shake my head. Call this number for my very adorable single uncle. I can’t believe he used his real phone number.
