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He shakes his head. “We’ll be in supreme shit if we do that.”
“I’m not going to tell.” I start walking toward our parents’ home. “Are you?”
“No way in hell,” he says from behind me. “But let’s leave granddad’s scotch alone. There are only three bottles left. He wanted each of us to open one on our wedding days.”
I wait for him to catch up, so we’re walking side-by-side. “Why wait for that? Ava can never get married because no man on this earth is good enough for her. Besides, you’re a confirmed bachelor for life, right?”
“You never know what tomorrow brings, Sean.” He inches ahead of me. “I’ll race you to the door. First one there has to carry the heavy boxes out.”
He takes off in a sprint.
I watch him from behind, feeling damn lucky that I’m his little brother.
Chapter Forty
Callie
I heavea sigh of relief as I step into the cool night air. My shift at Tin Anchor tonight was busier than usual, but it was definitely worth my while.
I walked out of there with more than seven hundred dollars in tips. With shaking hands and tears of joy welling in my eyes, I shoved it, along with my tips from last night, into one of the plain white envelopes that Gage keeps in his office.
I just dropped that envelope into the hand of a trusted friend.
I glance over my shoulder one last time to see him tucking it into his pocket.
“Calliope?” That voice, with its deep melodic tones and toe-curling rasp, is as unique as the man it belongs to.
I turn to my right to see Sean approaching me.
Panic shoots through me.
I don’t want him to see me here. He can’t see me here.
This is a part of the world that I ran from.
“Hi,” I whisper, unsure of what to say.
I assumed he’d eventually show up at Tin Anchor tonight after spending some time at home, but he’s still wearing the same suit and shirt he had on at work.
Maybe he had dinner plans or more-than-dinner plans with another woman.
His mussed hair and the end of his tie peeking out from one pocket of his suit jacket suggest that Sean had a lot of fun with someone tonight.
My gaze drifts to something tucked under his arm.
I can’t quite make out what it is.
He glances at the glass doors that lead into the lobby of the building I just exited. “What are you doing in this neighborhood?”
“I got off work a bit ago,” I offer while I struggle to find the words to explain why I’m so far from home at this time of night.
He rakes me from head to toe, taking in my outfit. It’s the same jeans and Tin Anchor T-shirt that I wore last night. I washed them early this morning, tossed them in the dryer as I ate a quick dinner, and then took off for work.
I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “What are you doing in this neighborhood?”
I sense that my non-explanation of what I’m doing here doesn’t please him, but he answers my question. “Decky and I were at our parents’ home. It’s a couple of blocks from here. We have to clear out some stuff.”
“Stuff like that?” I point at whatever is under his arm.
