The Wayward Sister (The Wayward Sons 5)

I look behind him and see that it’s actually a cabin, not an office or something. I really want to run away and go home, but there’s something about Adrian that’s inviting. I’m also a little curious about how, and where, these guys live. I take a deep breath and say, “Sure.”

I step across the threshold. I pause when I see the two guys sitting at the kitchen table playing cards.

“You know Robbie and Holden, right?” Adrian says. “Sierra brought me a thank you pie.”

Holden waves, while Robbie grins broadly and hops up, giving me a hug. “Hey, I heard you were back in town.”

He and Katie had been dating for a while. He seemed good for her. Stable and fun. “Yeah, it’s just been a few days.” I look around at the main floor of the cabin. There’s a small kitchen and a living room area that has a big, stone fireplace against the wall. It’s rustic, but comfortable. A staircase leads to what I assume is a second floor. “How many of you live here?”

“Four of us, right now. The three of us and Smith.”

“Ah, Smith.”

Robbie cocks an eyebrow. “What about him?”

I wrinkle my nose. Holden shakes his head, and says, “Smith was being truly Smith-y the last time we hung out.”

Robbie shakes his head. “What did he do?”

“Nothing. He was fine.” Smith is fine. Damn fine, physically. But he’s also an ass, with a massive chip on his shoulder. While me, Holden, and Adrian had a good time on New Year’s, having a nice dinner and a few drinks, Smith couldn’t get his head out of his ass to enjoy himself.

“He’s temperamental,” Holden says. “It takes a while to get to know him.”

“Sure.” I get this, sort of. Dexter can be a challenge for new people. But Smith? He made it pretty clear he isn’t interested in me being around. Which is fine. The last thing I need in my life is a complicated, baggage-carrying guy.

Even if he does look like a Greek god.

“How’s the house coming along?” Robbie asks. Adrian is in the kitchen rummaging around a drawer. He pulls out a fork and a knife, then grabs a plate from the pantry.

“Good. Well, I haven’t done much yet. I did get some supplies today, and I think maybe I’ve found a handyman.”

“What are you doing?” Holden asks. He leans back in his seat and stretches his long legs across the floor. He’s slim with square shoulders and a long torso. A thick, short beard covers his chin and a curl of dark hair falls into his forehead.

I fight the urge to lie. Or flee. I’m not sure why it’s so hard to just admit what I’m doing in Mammoth Lakes. “I’m cleaning up a family home to sell. It needs a few repairs before I can put it on the market.”

See? That wasn’t so bad.

Adrian walks over with a huge slab of pie on his plate, chewing. “Let us know if you need any help. We’re all pretty functional with a hammer and saw.” All of this is said through the goo of the massive forkful of pie he put in his mouth.

I fight off the image of my lips cleaning his lips. “Yeah, thanks. I think I’ve got it under control.”

“This pie,” he says, again around food, “is epic.”

“Thank you.”

Holden and Robbie hop up and move toward the kitchen. Adrian’s eyes pop wide. As they start to fill their plates. “Dude, don’t take all of it. She made it for me.”

They’re distracted, and I use the opportunity to slip from the cabin back out to my Jeep. I’m backing out when another truck flies up the driveway, music blaring. I slam on my breaks to keep from crashing into it. The truck parks with a lurch and the music cuts. Through the window, I see Smith glaring at me.

Perfect.

I wave, undeterred, and crank the engine. His attitude is not my problem.

Or at least that’s what I tell myself as I catch a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. He’s standing in the middle of the driveway, arms crossed over his chest, watching me drive away. The look on his face, annoyed.

There’s no reason at all for Smith to have a problem with me. Not one, but from the way he looks at me? I think maybe there is.

5