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Vallie
Look. I think it’s hot. Keep going. Or I’ll put down that Rom Com you sent me that compares his dick to a weapon.
Noel
Fine. But you all owe me a thriller.
Smirking and shaking my head,I slid my phone into my pocket and E-reader into my purse. Looking up and out the window as laughter spilled from the kitchen behind me, I found more Rhodes wandering down the driveway for their weekly Sunday night gathering, which I’d somehow been invited to despite not actually being family.
Mom had always been big on family dinners growing up. Eric was never one for joining, his resistance to all things McShane a flagrant red flag that I dutifully ignored in the name of honoring hisboundariesas the son of a public figure.
As I watched the Rhodes ‘kids’ file into the house Sunday night, the familiar routine wrapped around my heart like a freaking hug. Somehow, all at once, it felt like home and my heart ached for my family’s faces and voices. Heck, I even missed my little brother, Alex.
“But, that doesn’t make any sense. If she’d just been honest from the start, the entire situation could have been avoided.” The words made my stomach bottom out for a beat before I realized Leighton was debating with Kaia, who was quick to rebuke her theory over whatever movie they’d gone to see today.
“What would be the point of the movie?”
“A love story,” Leighton drawled back. The room was full of chatter and my focus wandered to Elora as she buzzed between the dining room and kitchen, setting bowls down on the oversized lazy Susan perched on the center of the enormous round table. It was clearly the result of the shabby-chic movement a few years back, coated in white chalk paint with scuffed edges and rounded legs.
“So, I’m flying back into Seattle next week for the conference, and then to Salt Lake after that. Then it’s Denver, and I’ll be home.” Elora neatly placed the garden salad and a bowl full of black olives side-by-side as Juniper set down a cheesy-looking pasta casserole that required both of her hot-mittened hands. The matriarch’s hair was swept back into an elegant claw clip, loose pieces of salty blonde hanging around her face and swaying as she nodded.
“Good, okay. Hopefully, it times out and the boys can be back in the harbor so you can at least see them.”
“I’ll be here for about two weeks, so I assume our paths will cross at some point,” Elora reassured as they turned back for the door to the kitchen. The inside of the main house wasn’t nearly as daunting as the exterior. In reality, the finishes were seventies yellows and greens, worn from years of too many hands and a tribe of angsty teenagers. The carpet was worn, and they covered the walls with eclectic collections of art and family photos. But it was warm, homey, and welcoming. Just like the humans that inhabited the frequently scuffed walls.
“Come, come!” It was Alice’s hand on my elbow that jerked my gaze her way.
“Oh! Me? What can I do to help?”
“Nothing, silly. Come sit. You’re our guest!” She snaked her arm around my waist, guiding me in. This family was barely contained chaos. A constant cacophony of voices and movements. And despite the overwhelming nature of it, I kinda loved it.
Brexley and Rhyett had told me to show up at six for family dinner—attendance mandatory the Sunday before the guys would roll out for the season. Oddly enough, it coincided with the two of them leaving, so it was a bit of a bon voyage for everyone. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
Juniper, who had just made her way through the swinging white door to the kitchen, stained with kick marks around the bronze plate on the bottom, tsked her tongue in our direction.
“She’s family,” she sing-songed. “If she’s Brexley’s sister, she’s part of the family,” she boldly declared. Glad to see the unwavering faith in Brex and Rhyett was shared with his mom, I laughed.
“I mean, soul sister,” I allowed. Juniper smiled in that motherly way only a matriarch can.
“Family doesn’t mean blood where I come from. It means the people you know you can depend on, come hell or high water. Does that or doesn’t that describe the two of you?”
“It does.”
“Then you’re our family now, too. Come on in. Do you need anything? Water? Wine or bourbon? Coffee?”
“Notice how she just slides the alcohol right under the radar,” Elora quipped, a sly smirk on her face as she gingerly placed a bowl of roasted Brussels sprouts, followed by a basket full of rolls onto the center of the table.
“Uh, thanks for the offer but I have to be at work at five tomorrow morning, so no sleep or a hangover both seem like a bad idea. If you point me in the right direction, I’d love some water, though.”
“I’ve got a pitcherful on the table,” Juniper said, pointing toward it with a soft maternal smile.
Nodding, I followed Alice’s lead, looking around for Brex. Rhyett and the guys had all vanished to shower off their basketball sweat, but I’d lost track of her somewhere between the garden and washing our hands for dinner.
“My favorite discussions every year always stem from the complexities and paradoxes of clashing philosophical theories. Anyway, this wicked smart little sophomore essentially told me it’s a never-ending loop of intellectual confusion.” The husky warmth of Broderick’s voice trailed up the hallway, growing closer by the beat. Everyone else continued their work, but I didn’t miss the way Elora’s eyes widened, or the way she rushed to set her plate down, freeing her hands to comb frantically through her hair and smooth her skirt before straightening. Broderick’s voice abruptly halted, and the energy of the room shifted. I didn’t have to look away from Alice, who was telling me about the new position she’d accepted at great length, to know Jameson had entered the space. The man had this force field around him. Like a palpable presence, I could reach out and touch if I knew how to.
Elora’s face cracked into a honeyed smile as she turned on a heel to face them and marched back towards the kitchen. “You’d think by now you would have chosen a less perplexing hobby.”
As I absolutely refused to look up, heat climbing up my spine at the mere awareness of his companion, all I could do was listen to Broderick’s throaty laugh, followed by, “What do you have in mind, El? Juggling?”
