Chapter 35

It’s onlytwo weeks until I leave for my trip, and I should be excited, but there’s a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach this morning that I can’t shake.

I sit upright in bed, staring at the cutesy bluebells that decorate the pale cotton duvet. I pick at a hole in it, wriggling my nose left to right.

It’s the potluck today, and everyone’s going to be there. Which is great, except Savage is going to be there too, and my doubts about leaving are growing by the day. I want him to ask me to stay. Even scarier, I want to stay, and if he does ask, I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave.

And I don’t want that either.

Because I’ve never experienced a damn thing.

But at the same time, I’ve experienced more in the past few weeks than I have in years in Heatstroke.

“Ugh.” I get out of bed, draw back my curtains so that sunlight streams into my tiny, cozy room, then head out of the door and across the hall for a shower.

The morning passes in a haze of indecision and thoughts about Carter. About how he makes me feel, about how he touches me, about how we spent last night together, curled up on my sofa, reading together, my legs in his lap.

I prepare a lasagna, cover the dish with foil, then drive over to Ganny’s house. A lot of the storm damage has been repaired, but there are a couple of stores and homes in Heatstroke that are either under construction or need work. I roll down my windows, grateful that my car doesn’t smell like a mushroom patch anymore. It’s a perfect summer’s day, the sky blue, the grass green and lush, and Ganny’s house, all shiplap, with its porch swing drifting in the breeze, is the picture of home.

Home. I park my car and gnaw on the inside of my cheek.

Savage’s motorcycle is parked out front, and my heart skips and flutters. He’s already here. He’s inside. With my family. Waiting for me.

Run before you lose your heart.

But that battle’s already been lost. He has my heart, and he won’t return my feelings. It will be too much, too soon for him.

The screen door bangs open before I can get out of the car, and Belle comes down the stairs, taking them expertly in high heels. “Ugh!” She lets out a frustrated cry, balling up her fists.

“What’s the matter, Sweetheart?” Leo saunters down the stairs behind her. My brother is built like a house. He’s even taller than Cash, closing in on Savage, and he’s got a rugby player’s build. He’s also a playboy and an asshole, and he’s wearing a shit-eating grin as he walks up behind Belle. “You can’t take a joke, can you?”

“You,” Belle says, spinning toward him. “You better watch your tongue, because I am not going to take this. We’re meant to be keeping this professional, and you are making that very difficult.”

Leo towers over her, he strokes his jaw, his eyes glinting with excitement. He’s got our mother’s green eyes, and they’ve always made him look like a bird of prey. “Maybe you should stop talking about my tongue, then.”

Belle pokes him in the chest. “You’re going out of your way to make my life hell, and you know it.”

“I would never try to make your life hell,” Leo says, still grinning. “That’s just a happy side-effect of being me.”

I can almost see the steam coming out of Belle’s ears. She hates fighting. She hates any kind of friction, and my brother is a professional at getting under people’s skin.

It’s why he’s always getting in trouble. He loves to compete. He loves to win. And he doesn’t understand what it means to back down.

“Can’t you be serious for just a second?” Belle asks, still with her finger pressed into his right pec. “Just for a god damn second?”

“Language, Sweetheart.” He catches her wrist and encircles it. “You got to watch that dirty mouth of yours in public. I’m meant to be keeping my image clean, remember?”

Oh, boy. This is about to go south fast.

“I’m not the problem,” Belle says.

Leo releases her and steps back, brushing his hand through his dark hair. It’s shorter on the sides and he’s added yet another tattoo to the collection on his arms. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m the problem.” He’s still smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I won’t kid around with you again, all right, Miss Simms? We’ll keep it as professional as you need.” And then he turns and heads off back inside, still with that swagger.

Belle’s breathing like she’s run a marathon.

I grab the lasagna and get out of the car. “Are you okay?”

“Christ on a cracker,” she says, jumping on the spot. “You scared me.”

“I’ve never seen you lose your temper like that.”

Belle presses her hair back from her forehead. “It’s so bad. I don’t usually act like this. Your brother is driving me crazy. Like… I want to quit crazy.”

“You know what they say.” I join her and give her a sideways hug. “There’s a thin line between love and?—”

“Pure, unadulterated hatred and irritation?”

“That’s how they etched it onto the side of a Pharaoh”s tomb somewhere.”

“You’re kidding,” Belle says, “that saying is from that far back?”

“Oh, no. I have no idea where it comes from,” I say. “I was just being a weirdo. It’s kind of my thing. Just like being an insufferable, wounded asshole is Leo’s thing.”

“I’m not sure you should ever say the words “wounded” and “asshole” in the same sentence together,” Belle replies, quirking her eyebrows. “You know, unless you’re a proctologist.”

“I love you,” I say, hugging her again and laughing. “God, I missed you. It’s super selfish, but I’m so glad you’re here.”

“My torture is your joy.”

“So dramatic,” I say.

“I’m serious, Han. I can’t stand being in the same room as him. We’re just such different people,” Belle says.

“Leo’s a good guy,” I reply. “He likes to mess with people, but when my mom got sick, he flew back and spent every day at her side. He helped keep my father from total collapse and Cash too, in his own way.”

Belle licks her lips. “Great. Humanize him. That will make my job easier.”

I punch her elbow, and she grins at me.

“I missed you too, Han.”

We head inside Ganny’s house, and it’s already full of noise and the smells of good cooking. My grandmother totters into the hallway, spots me, and grins from ear-to-ear. “Hannah!” She opens her frail arms, and Belle takes the lasagna from me so I can give Ganny a hug. She smells like her special rose cream and her cheeks are smeared pink with rouge.

“It’s good to see you, Ganny.”

“Oh my, sweet child. I missed you.” Ganny pulls back and smiles at me. She looks older than the last time I saw her. “You know the drill. Dishes in the kitchen as per usual.”

Belle and I walk the lasagna through to the kitchen. June and Cash are in there, him with his arms around her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and pressing her into the counter. She giggles and runs a hand down his chest.

“Hey,” I say. “This is a house full of rooms. Maybe you guys should find one of them.”

June separates from Cash and gives me a hug. “Hey, Han. How are you? I owe you an apology for missing out on the training?—”

“It’s not needed,” I say.

I should be thanking you.

“How’s Alex?” I ask.

“Oh, the flu? Yeah, it passed pretty quickly. She’s out back playing with Fireball.” The furious yipping of Ganny’s Chihuahua punctuates her words, and Alex’s yell of excitement from the backyard is adorable.

Belle places the lasagna on the counter. Her phone rings, and she takes it out of her pocket then winces. “I’ve got to take this. It’s Mr. Peters.” She steps out of the kitchen with a regretful glance. “Mr. Peters. Yes, sir. Yes, sir, I saw the article in the…” Her voice fades as she heads down the hall.

“Fucking Leo,” Cash says.

“Don’t gripe.” June strokes his arm, smiling up at him. “Your brother’s going through it.”

“My brother has been going through it since we were kids. How many excuses are there for being a fucking asshole?”

“And I love you too, Cash.” Leo sticks his head around the doorway to the kitchen, eyes sparkling. My brother oscillates between annoying and charming. “We don’t say it to each other often, but I really missed you.”

Cash’s frown deepens. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything,” Leo says, still half hidden. “How about you come outside and we’ll talk about your repressed rage. I bet I can get Ganny to set up the kiddie pool for some wrestling. I heard you let Jesse win the last fight.”

“You—” Cash steps toward Leo, raising a finger.

Leo gives his best shit-eating grin and points a blue plastic water gun at him. He shoots off a stream of something brown, and it hits Cash square on the nose. Cash splutters and runs a hand over his face. “What in the fuck? Is that piss? Did you just squirt piss at my head?”

“I was aiming for your mouth,” Leo says, then aims the gun at his mouth and sprays some liquid into it. He swallows. “And it’s whiskey, dumbass. Why would I squirt piss at you? I know you’re getting old, but that’s out of pocket, even for you.”

“Leo.” Cash growls it out and storms across the kitchen.

Leo lets out a demonic cackle and disappears from sight.

I laugh.

Jesse and Leo have a similar sense of humor, but Leo always takes things to the next level. Jesse would tease and mess around, but Leo would do that and more. He once put an open can of tuna fish underneath Cash’s bed and left it there for weeks. Nobody knew what the hell the smell was until Mom made Leo confess.

She was good at that. She was kind and gentle with him, where Dad was all about tough love with the boys.

June and I head out of the kitchen together, chatting about her week, and how she’s adapting to Cash going on tour.

We enter the living room and find Dad and Ganny chatting on the sofa. Savage is seated across from them, a can of Coke in hand. His gaze drifts up to meet mine, and heat floods my entire body.

I have the strongest urge to go over to him and kiss him, but I don’t. He taps his fingers on the soda can and maintains eye contact with me.

“There you are June, honey pie,” Ganny says. “Now, darlin’, I’ve been meaning to ask you when I’m going to get another great-grandchild?”

June chokes beside me and nearly does a spit take, wine glass clutched in hand.

Dad turns to Ganny and pats her leg. “Come on, now, Mama, she’s not a prize cow. She can’t just pop out babies because you want her to.”

“Just saying, I want more great-grandkids,” Ganny continues, her eyes glimmering blue and focused on June. “And given that?—”

I don’t hear the rest of what my grandmother is saying because I excuse myself and move out into the hall, past the family pictures that peer down from the walls. I run upstairs to the guestroom and shut myself inside, taking deep breaths to calm myself down.

Relax. She didn’t mean anything by it.

But it’s difficult to feel that way when I’m one of the grandchildren who will never give her what she wants. Sweat breaks out on the back of my neck and I sit down on the edge of the queen-sized bed, picking at the snowy white comforter. Outside the window, our favorite tree, complete with the treehouse Grandpa built us, stands like a solid reminder of my childhood and my life.

It feels like the pretty cream walls are closing in around me, like I’m trapped and?—

A knock taps against the bedroom door, and it opens. Savage enters and shuts the door.

He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to. I get up and take two steps into his open arms.