His phone was dead, so he plugged it into the charger and connected it to the sound system wired into the house before getting to work. His phone started blowing up with alerts about the time the front door opened and Heather walked inside.
“Heather?” He ran a hand over his face. “Dammit. I’m sorry.” Messages from Heather.
“For what?” she asked, running over to hug him. “Smells good.”
He chuckled, hugging his little sister tight. Damn, he was a bastard. More pinging. Messages from Emmy Lou. And Travis.
“Better be enough for all of us.” Emmy Lou came in. “Travis brought donuts, but this smells way better.”
“You cook, too?” Travis held two bags and was pulling one on wheels. “Come on, man. You can’t cook in your underwear. It’s not hygienic.”
Jace was at a loss. He couldn’t express how grateful he was to them for taking care of Heather. Since he was wearing nothing but his boxers, now probably wasn’t the time to try.
“Travis.” Emmy shook her head.
“I have every right to give him crap.” Travis kicked the front door shut. “He forgot his sister.”
He sighed. “I didn’t forget. My phone died.” He smiled down at Heather. “Pretty sure that wins me the worst brother of the year award.”
“Yep.” Travis grinned. “Totally.”
“I figured.” Heather sighed. “When I couldn’t get ahold of you or Krystal, I called Emmy.”
“Thank you, Emmy Lou.” He smiled at her.
Emmy smiled, taking care not to look at anything below the neck. “I’ll take over the bacon; you go find some clothes.”
He nodded, taking the stairs two at a time—and running into Krystal hard enough to knock heads.
“I was about to say good morning.” She sat down on the step, rubbing her head. “I knew you were hardheaded, but damn.”
“Krystal.” He shook his head. “We have company.”
“Hope yo
u’re dressed, Little Sister. There is a minor present,” Travis called up the stairs.
She froze. What? she mouthed.
“Travis, knock it off.” Emmy Lou sighed. “I’d like to say he’s not always this obnoxious, Heather, but I’d be lying.”
“At least I’ve never forgotten you or Krystal,” Travis snapped back.
“Heather?” Krystal looked just as horrified as he felt. But when she stood up and headed down the stairs, he grabbed her arm.
“I’m not complaining about the outfit here—for me.”
She glanced down, as if she hadn’t noticed how short and tight his shirt was on her. “Right.” She nodded and ran up the stairs, her every step revealing the curve of her bare ass.
He closed the bedroom door and started tugging on jeans.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Heather.” He pulled a shirt on. “My phone died. They picked her up from the airport.”
“This is my fault.” She picked up her red dress from the floor. “You didn’t get much sleep—”
“It’s not your fault I didn’t charge my damn phone.” He opened his drawer, throwing some workout pants her way. “Might be better than the dress.”