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Chance stared at his shoes. It was pretty obvious that he’d called them, though he hadn’t ratted. Probably said there was some kind of stupid emergency at home. Or maybe he hadn’t called and they were just there. Ross had no idea.
He just knew that he was naked and that Alix, who he’d learned, over the past two months, watching her with his mother, loved with her whole heart. She loved deep and true and beautiful. She loved with everything she had, and she hurt the same way and that’s what the past four years had been about. Just when he’d finally, finally realized that it should have been her, maybe it was always her, he didn’t want to lose her.
Not like this. Not at all. It took him twenty-six years to wake the hell up. If he had to fight for her, he was going to fight. He just didn’t know what that really looked like. He didn’t want to cause problems for her with her family. He didn’t want to hurt her.
“But- but- Robert…” Jane protested.
“Later, honey.” Robert dropped an indulgent kiss on his wife’s forehead. She looked totally and completely flustered, and honestly, who the hell could blame her? She’d just come home to a scene right out of a horror movie. The kind that is so bad it’s like a comedy instead. Robert lifted his head and nailed Ross with a loaded look. “For the love of god, someone please get Ross some clothes.”
Alix made a strangled sound and rushed off.
Chance shot Ross a murderous glare. He might be willing to stand up for him because of their bro-code and all, but he knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet. He knew the guy talked big game, but he never thought he was actually not serious about not caring if he ever got with his sister. His words, not Ross’s.
Alix rushed back into the kitchen, not with clothing, but with the comforter off her bed. She half threw, half draped it around Ross. Robert shook his head and led a protesting Jane out of the kitchen. Chance shot him another murderous glare before he shuffled off as well.
Alix’s lips trembled. Her huge amber eyes filled up with tears that she blinked hard to try and banish. She wasn’t entirely successful and a big one trailed down her now ashen cheek. Ross’s heart tumbled over itself. He hated seeing her cry, ever, but now… those tears were like daggers straight to any and all vital organs.
He shook the stupid oven mitts off and threw it onto the counter, caught the blanket before it fell, and wrapped his arms around Alix like a Halloween ghost. He dropped his head and kissed away the tear. It was salty and warm against his lips and to his complete relief, she didn’t pull away. She melted against him and let out a shuddering sob.
“Well- that was hardly relaxing.”
“I had a good nap before all the chaos.”
She looked up at him, horrified, but when she saw the humor on his face, she relaxed back against him. The blanket was all that separated them, the blanket and her clothes, and he wished that neither of them were there. If there weren’t other people in the house, he was afraid to think of what he’d do to her. Propping her up on the kitchen counter and devouring her to make up for the ruined cake, since he was crazing something sweet, was pretty high up on his to-do list.
“You want to go somewhere else? Somewhere- more- private?”
“Yes. My car’s parked out front. Just let me get my clothes.”
Alix nodded, her eyes still swimming, but this time there was a shimmer there that wasn’t there before. “I’ll be ready in five.”
“Make it two.”
Her lips wobbled. “I can do that.” She hesitated and didn’t pull away. “What- god- Ross, this is such a mess. We have to- to figure out how-”
“We will. I promise.”
“So, you aren’t- you- you aren’t going to change your mind because of-” Alix pulled away and swept her hand around the kitchen. “This?”
Ross shook his head. He let the blanket fall away only enough to grab her and slam her back into him. “We do have to talk. About a lot of things. I always knew you were a terrible cook, and that won’t change my mind.”
Right there, in the middle of the mess, the smoldering oven, the smoky air, wrapped up in her quilt, in the middle of the kitchen while her parents were home and Chance was no doubt hovering around waiting to castrate him, he dropped his head and kissed her so thoroughly that he hoped he’d erased any doubt lingering between them.
He was there. He was there, after two and a half decades, he’d pulled his head out of his butt, and now, now he was finally seeing clearly.
