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Dad rumbled a deep laugh, patting Vanna’s hand. She was sitting next to him and opposite Mom. Freya was next to Vanna, doing something to her hair. She was making a mess of it, but I was pretty sure she was trying to braid it.
What the fuck kind ofBrady Bunchshit have I just walked into?
I’d been gone for three days. Not three years.
Mom looked up, noticing me standing at the entrance of the room. “Gabriel.” She waved me in. “Have a seat.”
Vanna’s head snapped my way so fast that Freya lost hold of her hair. Freya shot me a glare as if it was my fault that she didn’t know how to do someone’s hair. “Gabriel. What are you doing here?”
Taking a seat next to Mom seemed to be the safest option since my sister looked like she wanted to stab me with the steak knife. “What do you mean, what am I doing here? I’m having dinner with my family. It’s Sunday, isn’t it?”
My sister raised a brow but didn’t comment further.
My eyes trailed to the woman sitting next to her, who was studying her plate as if she’d never seen one before. Her hair was loose, falling down her back in a glossy waterfall.
I’d noticed her mass of hair and beautiful heart-shaped face at the wedding. It was hard not to. But seeing her sitting with my family and fitting in as if she’d always been a part of it made my breath falter.
I knew I was staring but couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. Someone cleared their throat once it became clear I had no intention of shifting my gaze.
“Don’t tell me I missed the best part of dinner again.” Jude pulled out the chair next to mine with a loud scrape, then dropped into it with a groan. “Why is nobody talking? And why is my brother staring at his wife like she’s a Smith & Wesson pistol?”
Even though he was obnoxious, at least Jude broke me out of my temporary trance. Coming back so soon had been a mistake. I needed more time away to get over whatever this attraction between us was.
Freya leaned forward, toying with the steak knife. “Guess that’s what happens when you haven’t seen your wife since running out before the reception even finished.”
Liam placed his wife back in her seat, but kept hold of her hand, making sure their chairs were as close as they could get. “I’m taking Quinn on a honeymoon tomorrow. We’ll be back in two weeks.”
Everyone stared at my brother. Mom was the first to find her voice. “Again? You’ve already gone on two honeymoons.”
Quinn’s cheeks were tinged red, and she shot a sheepish smile at us. “I mentioned I’d never seen the pyramids. And here we are.”
“Why don’t you just call it a holiday like every other sane person?”
Liam narrowed his eyes at Jude’s question. “Because we’re not going on a holiday.”
We should all know by now how pointless it was to argue with my brother when it came to his wife. He liked to spoil her and it seemed he especially liked to take her on honeymoons.
Mom cut in before the bread rolls or plates started flying through the room. “That’s lovely, honey. I’m sure you’ll have a fantastic time, no matter what you call it.”
Nim came in with the first course, turning everyone’s attention to the food. Everyone except my wife, who had finally lifted her head. But once our eyes locked, I wished she’d kept avoiding me. The hurt shining in her hazel orbs sent an unwelcome pang through my chest.
Our housekeeper—who’d always had a soft spot for me, sneaking me candy when nobody was looking and letting me stay up late whenever she was babysitting—now looked at me as if it had beenherdaughter I’d left during the damn reception.
Jude snickered, enjoying himself entirely too much on my account.
Once we all had food in front of us, Mom raised her glass. “To the newlyweds.”
I lifted mine before downing its contents. I stood up to get a refill, glancing at everyone’s glasses, noticing Vanna’s was almost empty. “Can I get you another drink?”
She nodded and held up her glass. I reached over the table to take it. “Wine, please.”
Frowning, I shook my head. “You’re not twenty-one yet.”
Another reason to stay far away from her. Especially since I was twelve years older than her.
It was her turn to raise a brow at me. “So? If you want to play dad, you’re a little late.”
I sputtered at her insinuation. “That’s not what I’m trying to do. But you shouldn’t be drinking.”
