Chapter 5

Winnie

M orning sunlight casts a golden glow upon the soft, creamy hue of the Victorian house, highlighting the inviting, wrap-around porch and stretch of large windows adorned with delicate lace curtains that hint at the elegance within. The front door opens.

“Where is she? I need to see my Winnie!”

I hear Anna Hammer, the matriarch of the Hammer family, before I see her.

“Where did she go?” Axel’s voice is full of confusion, because two minutes before, I’d been standing right behind him on the porch steps of the brothers’ childhood home.

Now I’m on the side of the house, puking into Anna’s periwinkle hydrangeas.

I’d been determined not to even look at Gram’s, but I caught a glimpse of the small house in my periphery, run- down though unassuming on the outside, and that was enough to bring my breakfast up.

Why the hell did I let them convince me to do this?

Oh yeah, it was me who let my pervy fantasies of losing it to Max in the pool house take over all rational thought.

“Oh Winniefreeeeeeeeed,” Gunnar sings out. “Where are you, my pretty?”

Your pretty is currently making sure she didn’t get cereal bits in her hair, I think.

“Be there in a minute!” I shout. “I wanted to check out the hydrangeas!”

I untie the hoodie I sometimes wear around my waist to make it clear I have a waist and dab around my mouth and chin with the sleeve. Then I stuff it under the bush to retrieve later because nothing says I’m so happy to see you! like vomit, right?

I’d hurriedly wrangled my hair into a disaster of a ponytail using the scrunchie on my wrist when the first wave of nausea hit. Now I let it down and shake it loose and free–the way nature intended.

“Win?” It’s Cruz that appears around the corner. “Are you really checking out the flowers? Because if you wanted one of us to follow you around here and, y’know, maybe sneak off to the pool house for a little makeout session, I’m all about it.”

Cruz waggles his eyebrows and makes a kissy face at me.

He’s joking. Obviously he’s joking. But I’m surprised my face doesn’t erupt into flames .

His eyes still twinkle, but the corners of his mouth turn down. “Hey. You did not come around here to check out the flowers.”

“Had to throw up,” I admitted.

The cringe is slight. Then he lifts a chin in his patented I got you gesture.

Walking towards me, he teases, “Let’s say rain check on the makeout sesh, then, but…”

Then I’m wrapped in his arms. He presses his lips against my temple.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Any time you want to stop, you say stop and you will not get any pushback. I’ll make sure of it, alright?”

With a shaky breath, I nod. Letting me go, he holds out his hand and I take it. I manage not to swoon when he entwines his fingers with mine and leads us back around front.

Anna practically tackles me in a hug.

“My Winnie,” she says when she finally lets go. She holds my shoulders, taking a step back, and when there’s an arm-length between us, she looks me up and down. I’m grinning, full-force, and not a bit insecure. There’s not a critical bone in Anna’s body.

“You are gorgeous. Do my boys tell you you’re gorgeous on a daily basis or did I not raise them right?” she demands. There’s so much love in her voice, happy tears fill my eyes.

She’s the gorgeous one, elegant and graceful. She’s wearing a flowing floral dress, and matches her house so perfectly she could be on the cover of a magazine .

She pulls me close again and then whispers, “My boys are still all smart, aren’t they? I don’t know why not one of them has swept you off your feet yet. I really don’t.”

Jack clears his throat. “Ma, the car’s here.” His voice sounds rougher than usual. “You and Pops need to get to the airport.”

As if on cue, Jonathan Hammer, who has always insisted I call him Pops, like one of the family, comes through the front door. His dark hair, shot through with silver, is covered in a wide-brimmed straw hat, and his warm eyes match the soft blue hue behind the bold flowers of his Hawaiian shirt.

“Winnie-bug!” He beelines towards me and sweeps me up into a bear hug.

“Popsy!” I sniffle, settling into his embrace. I can’t remember my own dad hugging me. Ever.

I hate to see them go the moment we arrive, but at least I get to hug them now, when I wouldn’t ordinarily have gotten the opportunity until Thanksgiving. They’re the ones who make the five-hour drive to my cottage each year. When the boys surprised Anna and Popsy with the trip a month ago, I’d been so bummed that I couldn’t see them off with Axel, Diesel, and Cruz, who’d planned to house-sit. Back then, I couldn’t have imagined coming back here for anything. I’m here now and I still can’t believe this is really happening. I’ve allowed it to happen.

“You all promise not to throw too many wild parties while we’re away, alright?” Popsy jokes. “Winnie-bug, you’ll keep them in line?”

Despite everything, I laugh. “As much as anyone can! ”

“Let’s cancel the trip!” Anna cries. “I can’t be gone for eight weeks with you all here! I want to stay here and spoil you all rotten.”

“Ma,” Jack says. “We’ll still be here when you get back. You’ll have plenty of time to spoil us.”

“Yeah, besides, some of us are already pretty rotten,” Theo sniffs the air. “Who didn’t shower this morning?”

“Oh my gosh. You all behave.” Anna wags her finger at them, then gives them each a quick hug. “Winnie, you make them behave.”

I promise that I’ll try.

Within minutes, it’s just me and the guys again.

Me and the guys and the elephant across the street.

I still can’t look over there.

“We don’t have to start today or even tomorrow,” Jack reassures me, as if reading my mind. “Whenever you’re ready.”

The thing is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.

After a full day at the Hammer house, caught up in a maelstrom of memories as I went from room to room, focusing all my thoughts on the happy times they always provided me, we ended the day with a BBQ on the back deck, and talked until long after the sun went down. I’m now exhausted and in the coziest bed imaginable, but I still can’t sleep .

No. That’s not accurate. I can fall asleep. But I wake up immediately, my heart a wild thing in my chest, convinced I’ve heard my father yelling at me.

I sit up in bed, trying to calm my ragged breath.

Just the memory of his voice makes my entire body tense, every muscle rigid with dread.

He made me hate my own name.

He can’t hurt you anymore, I tell myself.

But, oh, he can. He may be dead and gone, but his words live on, immortal. They’re scars on my soul.

I slip out of bed and pad downstairs, keeping the lights off so I don’t wake anyone. Or blind myself. But there’s a dim light coming from the kitchen, and when I enter, I see someone in front of the open refrigerator, shirtless.

He’s bending over, digging around the back of the fridge, a very familiar pair of striped pajama pants slung low over his hips, and no boxers in sight. I can see the outline of his ass, and when he straightens, he’s all muscled back, and tousled blond hair.

It’s Max. Oh hell yeah, this is what I need right now.

What I always need, but especially now.

My mischievous side takes over, and I tip-toe closer, snaking my arms around his waist, whispering, “Hey, Big Max, if you want a midnight snack tonight, I’m available.”

Just as I’m about to plant a playful kiss on his tan, muscled shoulder, I realize there is no dragon tattoo on the bicep of this Hammer brother.

Fuck !

“Win?” He turns around, shock painted across his face.

And oh shit. Shit!

It isn’t Max; it’s Mason.

I gasp, my face turning a shade of red that I know clashes with my hair, and blurt out, “Oh! Mason! Hi! I... I was just sleepwalking… I think… you know, having a... uh, sexy dream.”

Mason raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “A sexy dream, huh? About Max?”

My mind races, trying to find a fast exit from this hellscape. “Wha—no! It was about Harry Styles! Definitely Harry Styles! Why would you even think—”

Mason is flat-out grinning, now, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Oh, I don’t know, just a hunch.”

Dead with embarrassment, I somehow manage to silently stumble my way back to the guest room I’m in, but before I go in, I turn and race to Max’s bedroom. I sneak in without thinking, clicking the door softly shut.

“Max!” I try to keep my voice to a whisper. “I messed up! It was Mason in the kitchen, not you!”

Max, still half-asleep, tries to pull me into bed with him. “Why would I be in the kitchen?”

“Max, listen to me! I thought Mason was you and I came on to him.”

“It’s okay,” Max mumbles. “I’m sure he didn’t mind.”

It’s so not okay .

“Are you not hearing me? I called him Big Max! I’ve blown our cover. I had to pretend I was sleepwalking, and having a sex dream about Harry Styles!”

He opens one eye and smiles. “You what?”

“Don’t smile! I’ve ruined everything!”

“Ruined how?”

“Mason is going to figure out why I was inviting you to have me as a midnight snack! And then everyone will find out,” I whisper-wail. “They’re all going to know about us!”