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“How’s school going?” My uncle is quick to change the subject.
“Perfect scores.”
“That’s not what I asked. How’s the school? Do you like living here? You know you can come back to Sydney,” he offers.
“I know. But I like it here just fine.”
“Mmhmm. At least Breanna has someone local when she visits. Which is a lot lately.” Uncle Josh’s eyes flick between us before landing on my cousin again.
“I’m usually with Ash, Dad. I’m hardly ever alone.” Bree shakes her head.
“Ash isn’t a McKinley.”
“But we love him all the same anyway,” she replies with a grin, and once again, I can’t hold back my laughter.
Ash is my cousin, just as much as Bree is. It’s fucking weird as hell seeing them together. I’m still not used to it.
“He could have at least left Faith behind. I thought I was going to get to see both of you,” Uncle Josh grunts. Faith is Bree and Ash’s daughter, and probably one of my uncle’s favourite people—other than his wife and daughter, of course.
“I’m going home tomorrow. I had stuff I needed to get done. What was I meant to do? Tie Faith to my chest while I worked?” she huffs.
“I did it with you,” he counters.
“That’s because you have issues letting go.Idon’t.” Bree smiles proudly.
“So that isn’t the nanny cam you’ve hidden in Faith’s room that you’re streaming on your phone right now?” I ask, looking at the screen that’s lit up on the table between us.
“Shut up, Dom. No one asked you, stalker boy,” Bree grinds out.
I shrug. Her insults don’t hit the way she’d like them to. Nothing ever has. I’m not easily affected by anything. Thereisone person who can evoke emotions in me, however, and that’s my mother. Well, I guess two people. Because Lucy Christianson sure does stir up… something.
Bree’s little invasion of privacy reminds me of my own, and before I know it, I’m pushing to my feet and walking out of the room. “I’ll be right back,” I call out over my shoulder as I make my way to my bedroom.
I pick up my phone and see a message from my Little Bee.
Bee:
If you plan on releasing a recording of me from last night, think again. Because if you do, I WILL find you and I WILL make you wish you were never born.
I type out a response as I head back to the dining room.
Me:
I will cut the ears off anyone who even tries to hear you come. That sound is mine, and I don’t share.
I pocket my phone, reclaim my seat at the table, and dig into the plate that’s been placed in front of me—likely courtesy of my cousin. My uncle would have made me serve myself.
“How long are you in town?” I ask him.
“A couple of days, why?” He narrows his eyes at me. The man always thinks I’m up to something. I mean, I usually am. But he doesn’t need to know that.
“I was thinking of buying a place. You should come and check it out with me.”
“This house not big enough for one person?” he asks with a raised brow.
I might have gone overboard when I bought this place, but it’s small compared to the monstrosity I grew up in. “I’m looking at a hobby farm,” I tell him.
“Of course you fucking are. Why?”
