Three, two, one.
I turn back toward the stove as the sound of her feet stop, which tells me she’s gone airborne, followed by a grunt as she throws herself at her father. She might be seven, but she’s a total Daddy’s Girl.
“There’s my angel.” His voice rings out in the small kitchen. “And here’s my other angel.”
A minute later, the sound of smacking makes me smile and shake my head. Without looking, I know Brady has Izzy in his arms, and he’s leaning down to plant a wet one on Kat.
“Too much kissing,” Izzy jokes, and I snicker to myself. That kid is my mini-me, much to the chagrin of my sister.
Stirring the pot again, I give them a moment to be lovey-dovey. It makes me strangely emotional to be around them. They’re this perfect family unit. Every day, their house is filled with warmth and love. Even though I try to tell myself I don’t want this, that I don’t want a husband or kids because I know I’m a fuck-up, when I’m around Brady and Kat and little Izzy, I do want the happily ever after so much it makes my chest ache.
Damn Jamie for making me think that was possible.
I clench my jaw.
When I think the love fest is over, I turn around.
“Something smells good,” Brady says, setting his daughter down. “Ethan still coming over for dinner?”
“Mr. Ethan’s coming over?” Izzy grins.
What the… What?
My sister cringes and laughs awkwardly.
Crossing my arms, I squint. “Something you want to tell me, Katherine?”
We never discussed what happened at Ethan’s two days ago. What was the point? It was clear from everyone’s expressions in the living room they heard my argument with Ethan—his mom, his brother, my sister, the kids.
Although, to be honest, I’m not sure what we argued about. It was more about how Ethan made me feel. Like I wasn’t good enough. Like I was putting him out with my very existence. Like he took one glance at me and found me lacking.
The part of me that’s always screwing up wonders if I was being overly sensitive. That maybe Ethan’s just a crabby ass in general, and I was reading into things that weren’t there. Wouldn’t be the first time.
I know Kat was disappointed in me for how I reacted to Ethan. She gets quiet when she thinks I’m being a dick. Like I’m in timeout and she wants me to think about what I’ve done. It’s annoying as hell. And for the last two days, she’s been really quiet around me. I’m typically not one to shy away from saying what’s on my mind, but I have to be careful with my sister. She’s so hormonal that she’ll start crying if I’m too blunt, and I’m never prepared for her tears.
Kat waits until I drag myself to the kitchen table to level me with an innocent smile. “Did I forget to mention that Ethan is joining us for dinner? Must’ve slipped my mind.”
My brother-in-law chuckles and kisses the top of her head. “I’ll get Izzy cleaned up for dinner while you guys work this out.”
“I’m clean, Dad. I wasn’t rolling around in the barn or anything.” She huffs out a breath, but runs off wash her hands in the bathroom.
Motioning toward his wife, he gives me a crooked grin. “Don’t be too hard on her.”
I roll my eyes, and he laughs.
Once Kat and I are alone, my shoulders slump. “What are you doing? You know Ethan and I are like oil and vinegar.” Really, I can’t explain why I felt so defensive around him. It didn’t help that he was so handsome. Muscular and rugged from working on the ranch. Tatted up and shirtless with his Levi’s hanging low on his hips. Dripping wet with water and temptation.
All the more reason to stay away.
“Oil and vinegar are a great combo on salads.” When I give her a blank stare, she holds up her hands. “Just give him a chance to say his piece, okay? You don’t have to agree to work for him if you’re still not feeling it after dinner, but I think it would be nice to clear the air.”
“I get that you’re in this nesting period and want everyone to hold hands and sing campfire songs while you gestate, so I understand why you want this. But why does he need to clear the air? It’s obvious I’m not who he wants taking care of his kids.”
Tilting her head, she shrugs. “Maybe he was having a bad day. Everyone has them. I just know you shouldn’t write him off because he was grouchy. He’s a single dad doing it all by himself, Tor. He has a lot on his plate, but if you give him a chance, you’ll see he’s a good guy. That he’s trying his best.”
Fuck. When she says it like that.
My sister. Always the peacekeeper.
“Fine. But just because I don’t stab him at dinner with the blunt edge of my fork doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to this, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“You know me,” she chirps. “Zero expectations.”
For some reason, that doesn’t make me feel better.
Ethan
A smoky orange sun filters through the trees, washing the horizon in the waning daylight. My truck bumps along the gravel driveway until I pull to a stop behind two Ford F150s.
Brady’s farmhouse isn’t tricked out like mine, but his is far more charming. More welcoming. From the warm glow of the living room behind that picture window to the porch swing, everything about this place says home.
Making my way to the porch, I recognize the improvements he and Kat have made over the years. New siding. Pretty planter boxes. A brand-new playset, complete with a winding slide and monkey bars for their daughter. And rows and rows of lavender bushes that stretch into the distance.
When I reach the front door, I look down to make sure I’m respectable. Jeans. T-shirt. Boots. Sure, maybe I could’ve tried a little harder, dressed up more, but this isn’t a date.
Before I can think too long and hard about why I’m nervous, I wipe my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans.
Yes, this is fucking weird.
Just gotta be nice to Tori, see if we can have a civil conversation. At least I can tell my brother I tried to make this work.
I balance the six-pack of beer in my arm while I knock. Brady said he felt like Corona tonight when I texted to ask what I could bring. Good thing I checked because I was about to get him some Sam Adams, since he’s from Boston and that’s usually what he orders when we hang out.
When Brady opens the door, the smell of chili and baked things I can’t begin to understand how to make waft out.
“Hey, man. Come in. Everyone’s in the kitchen.”
“Whatever you’re making smells amazing.” I hand him the beer and slap him on the back.
“I’d say thank you, but I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
We pass through the living room and into the modest kitchen. I wave to Kat and Izzy, who are sitting at the table, even though my attention immediately zones in on Tori, who is standing at the stove. Her dark brown hair hangs down her back in long waves, and she’s wearing cutoffs that make her ass look like a juicy peach.
My palms itch to feel those sweet curves.
The thought is alarming.
Kat waves me into the room. “Hey, Ethan! I’d get up to hug you, but my baby keeps bumping my kidneys, and I’d rather not jostle the little kickboxer right now.”