“So sorry for passing out on your couch.” She winces. “Well, for passing out on you twice, technically.” She glances behind me at Joshua, including him in her apology. “I haven’t eaten much today. I guess between that and the flight and the drive...”
“Let’s get you some food,” Trey says. And then before I can say anything to her, I’m shoved aside as Trey helps Jessa to her feet. He leads her toward the kitchen, with Joshua trailing behind them, confusion still plain in his expression.
I frown. Trey is treating her like spun glass, and she’s completely ignoring me after coming halfway across the country to find me. This makes no sense. The situation has already gotten completely out of hand, but there’s nothing much I can do except follow them to the kitchen.
“Why are you here?” I ask after Trey has settled her one of the barstools. I try to keep the accusation out of my voice, but I’m just so damn confused that it comes through anyway.
Jessa shoots me another glare, and I notice Joshua has moved to her side. It makes sense since Trey is rummaging her some food from the fridge, but I don’t like it. I’m not a jealous man, especially not of my brothers. Maybe if she’d just stopped glaring at me, I could get a handle on things.
“I’m not here for you,” she says, disdain dripping from her voice. “I’m a journalist. I’m here to do an article for Environmental Monthly. The magazine I write for, remember?” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, and guilt hits me. Here I am, poking and prodding at her when she’s obviously not feeling well.
Even if she is talking to me like I’m a bug under her shoe.
“I’m a writer. Or did you forget that already?” she adds, arching an eyebrow. “I guess it could be hard to, considering it’s been all of two months since we met.”
Displeasure rolls over me. Jessa didn’t come here looking for me. She wasn’t trying to find me. It’s all one big fucking coincidence. An epic coincidence, really, but life is full of that kind of shit.
I should be relieved, but all I feel is disappointed.
Chapter 4
Jessa
“Is turkey okay?” Trey asks, pulling a few items out of the refriger
ator.
“Turkey would be wonderful,” I reply, just a little too exuberantly. “With mayo if you have it.” Lots of mayo, I think, but I don’t say it out loud. My mayo addiction is my little secret.
I really need to remember to eat more regularly. First, I pass out in front of these men. Now, I’m ready to start drooling over a simple sandwich.
With quick precision, Trey cuts some thick slabs of bread, slathers it with mayo and adds cheese and lettuce like a damn hero. He brings me the sandwich and a small bag of potato chips, and I smile at him gratefully. Across the room, I can feel Xander’s eyes on me. Only that’s not his name, is it? Four Hollister brothers and not a single one of them is named Xander, Alex, or Alexander. At least, not one involved in the Hollister business. And there’s no way that this man isn’t a Hollister.
Triplets? Who’d have thought it?
I wonder if the fourth Hollister brother—I’m pretty sure there are four—is also identical to the rest, or if at least one of them actually ended up being born at a different time.
I glance around the kitchen while Trey makes the sandwich. A chef’s dream kitchen, it’s huge, with oversized commercial appliances and a huge breakfast bar. It fits the house, I suppose, as the place isn’t exactly tiny. But I wonder why it’s so big? Do they feed their ranch employees here as well? Wouldn’t that be something? Billionaires who eat with the help.
“I can get you something different, if you like,” Trey says, nodding to the sandwich that he set in front of me.
My cheeks heat. I’ve been sitting here staring at nothing for longer than a couple of seconds, thinking about the man behind me and ogling these guys’ kitchen. “No, thank you. This is perfect.”
The third brother, apparently now confident I’m not going to faint again, moves away from my elbow to sit on the barstool next to mine. He still watches me closely, but he doesn’t seem terribly concerned that I’ll collapse at any moment.
Please, let me keep this down, I silently pray. I’ll never be able to get over the embarrassment if I vomit in front of these men on top of fainting twice. I wouldn’t even care about what they thought if I was at all worried about the pregnancy. But, tonight isn’t the first night that I’ve fainted. Granted, it has only happened once since I discovered my pregnancy, but my doctor wasn’t worried about it. She told me I need to be careful, that I need to make sure I eat right and often. And that if the morning sickness gets too bad, that I should go back to her so she can figure out a way to help. This is my own fault, although these men haven’t helped, not with their appearance, anyway. Just seeing Trey’s face had sent me into a shock.
He does, after all, look exactly like my baby’s father.
“So which Hollister brother are you?” I ask the triplet in the barstool next to me.
“Joshua,” he says, simply. He looks different from the other two brothers, yet eerily the same. His hair is a bit shorter, and he wears glasses. He’s also dressed differently, but that might only be because the poor man is wearing a T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. No doubt the commotion with Trey and I woke him up.
I take a bite of the sandwich, and the flavors explode in my mouth. It’s simple food, but I’m suddenly ravenous. I eat the whole thing before I consider that I probably look like a pig in front of three of the hottest men I’ve ever seen.
“I’m Clay,” a voice says behind me.
I don’t turn around. Clay. That is one of the names on the list Argus had sent me. I don’t have a good reply for him, so I ignore him in favor of my chips. The salty taste of the plain potato chip is divine.