As soon as he’d arrived, Ethan had hugged his cousins and uncles and aunts, and promised he’d eat as soon as he stashed his gear in his room.
Aunt Chelsea was his only real blood relative here. His mother’s sister. She’d come looking for her missing nephew and never left. Chelsea let guests use the other bedrooms, but never Ethan’s. He’d asked her once how long she planned to keep it for him, and she’d said until he was married with a home of his own.
No pressure there.
He hadn’t seen Lily outside, but he hadn’t asked where she was, because the family would’ve started spinning romance between them if he had. He was surprised they hadn’t already, given the sparking chemistry between him and Lily Ellen Hyde.
Forbidden chemistry. She was family. Family was everything.
He’d figured she must be around someplace, because her dad was out there with the fam. So he took his guitar and big suitcase through the familiar screen door with the squeak and creak he intended to sample and put into a song. The door banged and there she was.
She looked like a cool breeze, in a white sun dress with daisies embroidered along the hemline. Her angel’s hair was wound up and pinned to the back of her head, but strands had come free and hung long, here and there. Her eyes were wider and bluer than the Texas sky.
He was ridiculously glad to see her. The sight of her sent a heavy weight tumbling from his shoulders. He felt lighter in her presence. He’d long since decided everyone probably did.
They talked. He listened, amused by her story about her dad and his poker crew. Her accent was changing gradually. The hard edges of New York were softening after a year in West Texas, and her eyes seemed to drink him in.
But when he’d asked how she was, her peaches-and-sunshine demeanor had vanished behind a storm cloud. Her jaw and lips had gone tight, and her brows had lowered.
“Why do you ask, Ethan?”
Those were the words she’d spoken, but the tone with which she’d spoken them had sounded more like, “Screw you and the horse you rode in on, Ethan.”
And what the heck had he done to deserve that?
As she strode out through the screen door, its creak and bang didn’t come across as the comforting sounds of home. They sounded angry. She crossed the front porch, and he shook his head in bewilderment and then got stuck following the swing of her hips underneath that dress. The flare of its skirt gave more emphasis to the sway, and he ran a hand across his face and swore under his breath.
Then he headed upstairs. His bed was already made up. He suspected that after each visit home, his aunt Chelsea started changing it up for the next time before his tires had left the driveway. Guilt over his infrequent visits stabbed at his belly, but he pushed it away. He put the suitcase on the bed and stood the guitar case in the corner.
Then footsteps told him someone was behind him.
He turned.
His cousin Willow stood in his doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked furious. “What did you say to her?”
“What did I say to who?” He knew exactly who she meant, but he was buying time. Did the family know?
Know what? he asked himself. There was nothing to know. He and Lily had never even kissed!
“Lily,” Willow said. “She was fake-smiling way too hard. Didn’t reach her eyes. Her stride said she was pissed. So what did you say to her?”
He shrugged. “Hello? How are you?”
“And she said…?”
“Why do you ask, Ethan,” and he put a mean girl lilt into it, just like Lily had. “Maybe I don’t speak the language of women. You care to interpret that for me, cuz? I’m lost.”
“Sure. It means, why do you ask, Ethan, when you clearly don’t give a hang.”
“Well, why would she think that?” he shot back.
“Because she knows you’re gonna leave again in a couple’a days. Just like you always do. And if you gave a hang, you wouldn’t.”
He frowned at his cousin, shoved his suitcase out of the way, and sank onto the edge of his bed. “Well, she’s sure fittin’ right in around here, ain’t she?” he said. “Mad at me for the same reason everybody else is.”
“Not exactly the same reason,” she returned, and when he frowned at her, she rolled her dark-brown eyes. “You’re so dense, Cuz.”
“You’re not the first to say so. However, dense as I am, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”
