I’m shocked at how fiercely that sentiment resonates in me, all the way down to my work boots. Have I ever felt this way about another woman? Never. Not even Allison.
Part of me is shouting this is insane, to fall for this girl when I’m barely out of my marriage.
While I can list a million reasons why Tori and I work as a couple, none of them negate the issues my brother brought up or the fact that I can’t afford to keep her on staff come this fall.
Squeezing her tight, I decide I need to find a way to make this happen. She’s too important to let go. I’ve lived with enough regrets in my life. Tori won’t be one of them.
Tori
Totally unfair.
My sister is so pregnant, she can barely dress herself, but she’s never been more beautiful. I’d look like a constipated hippo if I were that pregnant.
I sit on one end of the couch in her living room and pat my lap. “Come on. Kick up those hobbit feet so we can do this pedicure.”
“Don’t call them hobbit feet, brat.”
I snicker and help her shift her legs up one at a time. “Just giving you a hard time. You’re gorgeous, preggers.”
Since Ethan needed me to work this afternoon, I spent last night with my sister, forgoing my Friday night TV routine of baseball and ice cream with my sexy BB—boss and boyfriend—and I’m hoping to pamper Kat before I head back to the ranch in a bit.
Izzy skips through the room with her dad trailing behind. She sees me break out the nail polish, and she pouts.
“Tori, will you do my nails later? Pretty, pretty please?” She presses her hands together like a little beggar.
“I’m not going to be here when you get back, but maybe I can sneak over in a few days to do them.”
Jutting out her lower lip, she frowns.Ugh. How can I say no to that face?
Brady shakes his head. “Don’t give your aunt a guilt trip, kid. I’ll do your nails later if you want.”
“Really?” She grins up at him like he just bought her a pony, but then she quirks a saucy eyebrow like my sister. “Can I do your nails too?”
He lets out a comical sigh. “Sure, but I get to pick the color this time. No pink.” He turns to us. “This child’s obsessed with pink. Pretty sure she’d spray paint her room the color of Pepto-Bismol if we let her.”
My brother-in-law is awesome. I love that he lets Izzy paint his nails.
With his keys in hand, Brady leans over and kisses my sister, and she lets out a swoony sigh that would make Scarlett O’Hara proud.Oh, man.Do I look like her when Ethan’s around? No wonder Logan makes gagging sounds.
Ethan and I have kept everything under wraps around the kids since we thought Mila needed time to process the divorce. No need to push our relationship in her face or upset Allison while Ethan still has his finances all wrapped up in hers. Rocking that boat seems stupid, like kicking a hornet’s nest.
So when Ethan’s alarm goes off at three or four in the morning—yes, he gets up at an insane hour—I sneak back to my bedroom. It’s not a perfect situation, but at least I’m just trudging down the hall and not having to trek back to Austin.
I’ve been thinking long and hard about the concerns Logan brought up the other day. Their mom is returning. Mila’s starting school. I don’t have to be a genius to know they won’t need my help anymore. It’s not as if there are an abundance of well-paying jobs out here in the sticks, and I have a ton of bills. School loans for a degree I didn’t get. Bills from frivolous crap in college I couldn’t afford. Some insufferably bad decisions. Too many mistakes to list, really.
It’s easy to forget those mistakes when I’m at Ethan’s. Pretend I’ve got my shit together. Pretend I’m the upstanding adult my sister seems to think I am despite the facts.
Brady breaks into my pity party. “Watch out for my girl while I’m gone.”
“Of course. Good seeing you.”
“You too, squirt.” He leans down to give me a hug, making sure to mess up my hair when he lets go. I’ve always wanted a big brother, and when Brady married my sister, I definitely got one.
Especially when he nears the door and turns back at the last minute to say, “Tell Ethan I said hi,” in a saccharine-sweet, sing-songy voice.
Jerking her dad to a stop, Izzy tells me, “Have fun kissing!” And she smacks her lips together to make smooching sounds.
Brady, Kat, and I look at each other, frozen, and Izzy shrugs. “What? Mr. Ethan’s cute!”
