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When people say this stuff out loud, it makes it sound much crazier than it is when you’re living in the moment.
Liam’s lips are curved in amusement, taking all this in a weirdly comfortable stride.
My eyes drift around the room, moving toward the living room, and I notice my sculpture is no longer in view. Frowning, I start to ask, when Liam answers like he’s inside my head.
“Jared almost broke it, so I moved it to the bedroom and locked it up.”
My lips twitch.
“Who puts something right in the walk way?” Jared asks absently, turning his drink up.
“It was off to the side. You just forgot how to walk,” Killian intervenes.
“Okay, that’s it. All of you out,” I say, pointing at the door.
“We swiped two pies from Aunt Penny,” Hale says as though that’s a suitable argument.
“I’m good with going. The pie comes with us, though,” Killian says, already carrying a pie out the door. Hale follows him with the other pie in his hand, not even lingering around long enough to tell anyone bye.
My cousins just give me a blank stare.
“Out!” I say again, much louder this time.
They just grin, not feeling the least bit threatened by me since I don’t have a gun on hand. A paintball gun, that is. Or Dad. It always helps to have Dad.
“Liam was just telling us how you two met earlier,” Jared drawls.
Ah, hell.
“Says you two went skydiving and you saved his life and stuff,” Jason adds.
“Does Uncle George know you went skydiving without us?” Heath asks, smirking at me.
“It was free! I couldn’t pass up free,” I state defensively, rolling my eyes.
“Yeah. Apparently it’s no big deal that my chute malfunctioned, or that I almost died, or that you saved my life and helped a complete stranger inside his home where you’d never been before. It only mattered that you broke some pact about never skydiving without them,” Liam states dryly, picking up his abandoned beer before dropping to sit in a chair near the back of the table.
“I repeat: It was free,” I remind them.
“Yet you’re still holding that rafting trip against us, constantly threatening to tell Uncle George about it” Eric goes on.
Oh, those assholes. “That was different. You guys planned that trip without us, and waited until we visited Shasta about my art until you—”
I stop halfway through my rant when I see Jared arch an eyebrow and smirk at me, and I swallow down the other half.
“Fine,” I bite out. “If it’ll get you out of here, I’ll consider us even. As long as you don’t tell Dad about skydiving, I won’t tell him about your planned-to-leave-us-out rafting trip, all because you guys didn’t want us there while you tried to pick up girls. It’s not our fault we happen to carry around embarrassing stories.”
I cross my arms over my chest as Jared stands.
“I think our work here is done,” he finally states, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.
He’s quiet unless he’s being a royal smartass.
My other cousins all stand as well, all of them moving toward the door. Liam just drinks his beer, a ghost of a smile flirting with his lips as he stares over the rim at me.
“By the way, it was Eric who broke the toilet and not me,” Jason stage whispers before running out.
Liam just continues to hold that hint of a smile, not commenting as they shut the door behind them.
“I’m sorry they invaded your day.”
“I’m sorry you’re going to have to see me try to river dance at some point,” he states flatly as he puts his beer down. “I can promise you that will be twice as painful to endure.”
My eyebrows rise, because that’s random even by my standards.
“What?” I ask, as he pushes a plate away from him.
My cousins didn’t even bother cleaning up after themselves.
“Am I going to wake up and find you missing again in the morning, or does the bag you brought carry better news?” he asks, instead of answering.
“I brought more clothes,” I tell him with a shrug as I kick at the bag I dropped earlier when he started kissing me and making me stupid.
He fights a smile as he continues to study me too intensely.
Then he suddenly reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a phone. I walk over and take the seat next to him.
“I’ll clean up all these dishes, by the way,” I state uncomfortably as he does whatever he’s doing on his phone.
He shakes his head. “I can get the dishes,” he says absently.
That’s the closest to a domestic couple conversation I’ve ever had in my life.
He looks up and pushes the phone in front of my face, and I frown as I take it, reading whatever gibberish is on the screen.
Monday—
Charity breakfast at the Four Seasons—tax write off.
Personal shopper will be dropping off new suits at 10:00 AM sharp.
