13. Sullivan

Chapter 13

Sullivan

Yvette is a ballbuster. That's the only way to put it. She has that fierce energy, the kind that makes a typical guy buckle a little under pressure with the threat of losing his family jewels hanging over his head. But not me. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve.

"I'll have a full investigation done on you by tomorrow morning, so you need to admit any secrets now," she declares the moment she steps into my living room, her hands on her hips, assessing her surroundings like a hawk sizing up its next meal. She's got that blend of sass and skepticism that says she means business.

"There aren't any skeletons in my closet. Well, except for Uncle Sinclair running naked through town with a tinfoil hat on his head," I reply with a reassuring grin, maybe a hint of mock seriousness to ease the impending storm brewing. Yvette's the epitome of a protective older sister, her eyes scanning like they're on a secret mission to measure my worthiness.

Her dark hair, which she has pulled back in a bun at the back of her head, adds an extra touch of seriousness to her demeanor. I can already predict our conversations will swing from playful to perilous. "That's a story I need to hear." A small smile flashes across her lips before she's able to stop it.

I shrug, unable to resist the urge to tease her a little. "You will at some point," I retort, raising an eyebrow with purposeful exaggeration. "Would you like something to drink?"

She snorts. "I could use something strong." But I can see it now—the tiniest flicker behind her eyes that hints at an unyielding acceptance of my attempts. "Very strong. It's been one of those weeks."

"What's going on?" Romi cuts in, and I notice the worry sketched across her expressive face.

"I'm dealing with a new attorney in the firm who's determined to make my life a living hell."

While the two sisters talk, I grab some steaks from the refrigerator and cook us a late lunch since Romi has to be at Trick or Treat early tonight for the Thirteen Nights of Halloween Costume Contest.

After our cozy meal on the back patio, Romi heads inside to grab a bottle of wine for Yvette.

"Listen, I'm not going to interfere with your relationship with my sister right now, but I have a few rules." Yvette turns to me, suddenly serious.

"Rules?" Feeling like I'm back in high school, I feign casual interest while internally bracing for whatever onslaught of protective siblinghood is coming my way. "Enlighten me."

"Rule Number One: No hurting her. Ever. I don't care how charming you think you are, or how many cute puppy dog eyes you flash. If you hurt her, I will make it my mission to become your worst nightmare." She meets my gaze with a fierceness that radiates through the air like heat waves, words heavy with the weight of older-sister authority. "You got that?"

I nod slowly, maintaining the easy charm. "We already covered this one. I will never hurt Romi."

Her demeanor softens a little, patience trailing behind that fire. "Good. Just know that I'll be watching."

"Duly noted."

Romi returns before we can get to any more of Yvette's rules, but I'm pretty sure I already know what they encompass—she wants the best for her sister and will do whatever it takes to make sure Romi gets it. My exact goal, too.

The atmosphere at Trick or Treat is electric as the Halloween Costume Contest kicks into full gear. I can practically feel the excitement buzzing off the walls, mingling with the spicy scents of pumpkin and cinnamon wafting through the room.

The bar is packed—pirates, witches, and zombies mingle as the night unfolds like a lifelike pop-up book full of colorful characters. I'm seated at a table with Yvette, who's still making me jump through hoops to prove I love her sister.

"So, you work for Midnight Industries." She's not really asking and I bet she already knows all about my family.

"That's right. I'm the head designer," I say, ready to defend my career choice. "My oldest brother made sure I got my Master's degree in Mechanical Engineering and had me interview and beat out other candidates for the position."

"He's smart. It's important to work for what you get and not have it handed to you." She taps her fingers against the table as she seems to weigh the phrase.

"Please don't ever tell Sterling you find him smart. I'll never hear the goddamn end of it."

"It can be our little secret." Yvette smirks, raising an eyebrow. "For now."

We both laugh, and I slant my head to survey the contest more thoroughly. Romi's up on stage, holding a microphone with such effortless charm she could probably sell ice to an Eskimo.

She smiles brightly at the crowd, egging them on to cheer for the participants, her enthusiasm infectious. I can't help but revel in how natural she looks up there, commanding attention yet bringing in a sense of playfulness.

"What the fuck?" I mutter to myself, leaning forward in my seat as I see the pirate push his way up on stage to stand right in front of Romi.

Just then, the pirate plants himself in front of her, leaning in way too close. "Ahoy, fair maiden! What's a beauty like you doin' in a place like this?" The microphone in her hand catches his drunk slurs.

Romi, ever the professional, slips a polite smile on her lips. "I'm just here to run this contest. Why don't you take a seat at the bar and check out the scary costumes?"

Before she can finish her sentence, the pirate cuts her off, lunging in and pulling her into his arms. My entire being ignites into a full-fledged fucking rage. The instinct to break the fucker in half surges like a tidal wave as I leap to my feet.

"Motherfucker!" I roar, pushing through the crowd, fueled by a rush of adrenaline. My caveman instincts go into overdrive as I march up to the stage, ready to confront the asshole who dared to touch my little treat.

In one swift motion, I yank the pirate back by the collar of his ridiculous shirt, pulling him away from Romi. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I glare at him, ready to tear his ass apart limb by limb.

He looks back at me, his bloodshot eyes holding an arrogant gleam. "What's it to you, buddy? I don't see a ring on her finger," he snaps, speaking like he fluently believes his logic excuses his crass behavior.

In that moment, fury and disbelief whirl together in a cyclone. "I'll fix that," I snarl. Reaching into my pocket where I've kept the ring I planned to give her tomorrow night, I turn my attention back to Romi, who's still trying to process what's happening. "Little treat," I begin, sweeping my eyes over her as I kneel slightly to present the ring, holding it forward like it's the literal light of stars. "I was planning to take you and your sister to Midnight Scares tomorrow night and propose on the new ride, but this asshole threw a monkey wrench into my plans. I love you more than anything in the world. Will you marry me?"

Romi's mouth drops open for a second, and I gauge her reaction, redirecting the energy swirling wildly around the room. I'm just as surprised as she is, really, but I've known since our first kiss that she's worth the leap I'm about to take. I notice Yvette standing on the side of the stage with tears in her eyes and realize I managed to win her over with my crazy display of love.

The pirate swells to his peak of indignation, foaming indignantly. "B-But?—"

"It's your last goddamn chance to escape," I cut him off, giving him the chance to leave without my foot stuck up his ass while I pull Romi into my arms. The microphone squeaks when she drops it on the stage at our feet.

"Yes, I can't wait to be your wife, caveman," she whispers against my lips before kissing me for all the patrons in the bar to see. Having lived in this small town my entire life, I'm well acquainted with the town grapevine, and I have no doubt this display will be on everyone's lips tomorrow.