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“No.” She crossed her arms and paused, giving him the kind of once-over that would make me pee my pants. “You don’t get to come in here and call me Pip and verbally abuse my husband. I’m afraid I’ve got to ask you to leave.”
“Jesus Christ.” Paz ran a hand down his face.
“This is our home, and while thoughtful and respectful discussion is always welcome, shouting and insults are not,” she continued.
Paz stood a little taller, fisting his hands at his sides. “This doesn’t involve you.”
She laughed. Straight up laughed in his face. I had never seen anyone do that before. Paz was Mr. Serious Business Man. People usually looked at him in reverent awe or maybe a little fear. But Hazel’s lack of veneration had his face turning red and his jaw clenching tighter than I’d seen it since the night I fucked things up at camp.
“It does involve her,” I said, sidling up to Hazel and putting my arm around her tiny shoulders. “My wife is right. We don’t welcome this kind of behavior in our home.”
Hazel gave him a big, menacing smile. “I’ll see you out. Come back when you can be civilized.”
Paz looked between us, joined physically and spiritually, and sighed deeply. He trudged silently toward the door without looking back, and Hazel followed him, shutting it softly once his feet hit the porch.
We stood in silence for a few minutes, watching each other, until we heard his car drive off.
Then she opened her arms and walked toward me. The kindness of the gesture, the realization that she’d stood up for me to my brother, hit me in the solar plexus, and I welcomed her embrace. The feel of her tucked up against my body instantly eased the anger and the self-doubt swirling inside me and slowed my heart rate.
We stayed locked like that for a long moment, her head on my chest and me breathing in the scent of her shampoo. She was here for me, defending me and supporting me. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. All I knew was that I needed to feel her in my arms for one more minute.
Our hug lasted longer than was strictly platonic, and finally, she broke away. She took two steps back and peered up at me.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I whispered.
She waved a hand at me dismissively. “Fuck yeah, I did. What a dick. No one speaks to my husband like that.” There went the hands on her hips again. Adorable.
I took her in from head to toe. The woman before me wasn’t just Dylan’s kid sister. Or my old friend, the nerdy genius. Not even the pretty girl I had married. She was formidable and fierce.
Crystal was pretty and she knew it. In fact, it was her primary personality trait. Her life revolved around being a blond, blue-eyed beauty. She religiously dyed her hair, and it took a minimum of two hours for her to prep to leave the house, even for a night out at the Moose.
I’d never begrudge anyone for doing what made them feel good about themselves, but in Crystal’s case, the product was a woman who was so focused on how things looked that she never bothered to dig any deeper.
Which was probably why I didn’t miss her nearly as much as I thought I would. I was hurt mostly. Embarrassed and humiliated. Confused and reeling from the rejection.
But I rarely felt genuine sadness over losing her. My life barely changed when she left. Like she had been a pretty accessory and not a partner.
Hazel could not be more different.
She had the kind of beauty that snuck up on a man and knocked him out cold. The longer we lived together, the more I appreciated it.
Her big chocolate brown eyes, her rosy pink lips. The round hips she tried to hide. Some days, looking at her felt like a punch in the gut.
She was so much more than cute.
She was fierce and smart and beautiful. And she was mine. For now.
“What crawled up his ass?”
I ran my hands through my hair. “I don’t know. Paz has never been warm and fuzzy, but he’s become a downright miserable asshole over the past year.”
She considered this. “I think he’s jealous.”
“Of me? The family fuck-up?”
“First of all, you are not the family fuck-up. Stop telling yourself that.”
“It’s been this way forever. I’m the runt of the litter. Smaller and dumber. My siblings all got degrees; I dropped out after one semester. They all have clear career ambitions. I don’t.”
