“You’re right.” I let out a sigh that doesn’t sound nearly as aggrieved as I want it to. “I guess we’ll just have to walk in making out. You know, just stumble down the hall like we’re looking for the perfect surface to—”
“Okay, okay,okay,” she yells, cutting me off with wildly flailing arms. No amount of self-control can keep the shit-eating grin off my face. She shoots me a stern look, rolling her lips together to keep from smiling. “You’re exhausting.”
I wink and lean in to say “you have no idea” against her lips.
I’m so close that I can feel her smile, even though she still tries to sound annoyed by me. “Can we just go inside and tell them we’re together?”
My eyes catch on movement over her shoulder, and when I look up, the entire family is standing on the porch, watching us. My smile stretches so wide it hurts. “I don’t think we’ll have to.”
Finley follows my gaze and sighs. “Oh, for the love of God.”
The second she swings the door open, Wren yells, “Necking! They were necking in the car.”
Holden slides his hands down his face, and I can hear his groan from here. “Not theneckingthing again.”
“So you really are dating my sister, then?” Holden asks a few hours later, slanting his eyes in my direction as he sips on a glass of whiskey. It’s neat enough to make my eyes water. I like to mix mine with cola, which Holden refers to as my “bitch juice.” He can really be a pretentious asshole sometimes. But right now, I’m more worried that he’s going to take back his promise not to be a protective older brother.
I set down my beer bottle, turning my upper body in my barstool to face him. “Yes, I’m with Finley.” Something warm spreads through my chest just saying it. But then fear slices through me. Holden has been my very best friend since high school, the only person who ever saw what I was desperately searching for—family—and gave it to me. I can’t give Finley up, but I can’t lose Holden either. “Are you mad?”
Holden holds my gaze for a long moment. “No, I told you I wouldn’t be.”
“Good,” I say after only a short hesitation. “Because I love her.”
Holden’s eyes widen slightly. “Did you tell her that?”
A short laugh rockets out of me. “Not yet. I don’t want to scare her off. But I intend to one day.” I pause for a moment and then decide to lay it all out. “But she knows that I’ve wanted her for a long time.”
Eyes the same color as Finley’s search mine. “Since that summer after my freshman year of college?”
I swallow and nod.
Holden’s lips twitch under his beard. “I knew it.” Then, after a moment, he says, “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have dating my sister, Grey.” His smile stretches, eyes twinkling in a way they never used to before Wren. “And if she hurts you, she will have me to answer to.”
I bark out a laugh, which is exactly how Wren and Finley find us when they return from the bathroom. Finley’s eyes catch on mine, and she smiles, like the sound of my laughter makes her happy. She sidles up next to me, leaning down to speak next to my ear to be heard over the noise of the live band.
“Let’s go dance.”
I spin on my barstool until her hips are brackets by my knees, an infectious smile pulling up the corners of my mouth. “Okay, but go easy on me, or Holden will have your head.”
She raises her brows, holding back a smile. “That so?”
I nod with feigned solemnity. “He seems to think you’re going to break my heart.”
She pulls on my hands, dragging me off the barstool and to the temporary dance floor made from pushing all the tables to the edges. When she spins, putting her arms around my neck, she leans in until we’re nose to nose. I can feel her breath against my face, ghosting over my lips as she says, “I don’t have it in me to break your heart. If anyone’s in danger, it’s me.”
Charlie calls me on the way home from dropping off Finley. It’s late, and I’m surprised he’s up. His voice is booming, as always, when he says, “Hey, son.”
A smile curves my lips. “Hey, Charlie. What’s up?”
“I was actually calling to tell you I’ll be in your neck of the woods next Sunday. I’m selling my rental property on Monday and need to be there for the closing.”
I flick my turn signal before turning down my road. “Can’t you do that online?”
“I don’t trust the internet.”
“You met your wife online.”
“Semantics,” he says, and I can imagine him waving me off. “Anyway, I’d love to take you to dinner on Sunday, if you’re free. I’ll only be in town until Monday night. It’ll give me another chance to convince you to take the job here before you come visit Cape Landing.” His voice is light, followed by a chuckle, but his words land heavily in my stomach.
