Smart, Sexy and Secretive (The Reed Brothers 2)

“I’m staying forever and ever.” I am. I’m never leaving again, no matter what. Anything else we need, we can work out as a family. This ragtag bunch of boys and Hayley are as much a family to me as my parents are right now—they’re home.

I set Hayley on the edge of the counter and cut a piece of cake for her. Her eyes gleam, and she smiles sheepishly at her father.

“Food first,” Paul warns. I stick a fork in the cake and take a big bite, and then hold a smaller forkful out for her. Paul scrunches his brow and says, “Fine. One bite.” He holds up a finger in warning.

Hayley grins, and I feed her the cake.

“This is really good,” I murmur around my cake.

Pete smacks Sam on the shoulder. “See, told you she would love it,” he says.

Sam blushes and says, “It’s just a cake.”

I point to the cake. “You did not make this.”

More pink creeps up Sam’s neck. “Sometimes I bake.” He puts his hands on his hips and balks at me. “Real men bake cakes. And pies. And cookies. And other shit.” He waves a hand through the air as he scolds me. I had no idea Sam could bake. It’s really some of the best cake I have ever eaten.

“Real men with really small dicks,” Pete says, holding his fingers about an inch apart. Sam punches his shoulder.

“Ask your girlfriend about my dick,” Sam tosses back. “She seemed to like it a lot last night.”

“Knock it off,” Paul scolds as he takes Hayley off the counter and sets her on the floor. “There are girls in the house.”

“They don’t count as girls,” Sam says around a mouthful of pizza.

“Well, thanks,” I complain.

“You know what I mean.” Sam is still talking with his mouth full.

Logan wraps his arms around my waist and places his chin on my shoulder. “Feels like a girl to me,” he says. He growls and nibbles on the side of my neck.

God, I love being here with them. I missed a lot while I was away, and I want to find out everything all at once.

Can we sneak out of here and into the bedroom yet? Logan signs to me after he turns me to face him.

That would be rude. I shake my head. We just got here. Did you know they were going to do this?

He shrugs his shoulders and grins. I knew there was cake. The pizza is just dinner, I think. They didn’t know when you’d come by.

You could have warned me.

Where would be the fun in that? He jerks a thumb toward the bedroom. Can we go to bed yet? He waggles his eyebrows at me.

Where would be the fun in that? I ask. My pocket vibrates, and I reach for my phone. It’s my mom, I tell Logan. “Hello,” I say quietly. I walk toward Logan’s bedroom so I can hear my mom talk.

“Are you all right?” my mom asks.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” I step into Logan’s room.

“I just wanted to be sure. Trip called your father and said you weren’t at your apartment.”

“Mom,” I start.

“I know, I know,” she interjects. I can almost imagine her holding her hands out in surrender. “Are you at Logan’s?” Her voice is almost singsong.

A grin tugs at my lips. “Yes, they had a party for me,” I admit. “It was really nice.”

“And Logan?” she asks. “How is he?”

What she really wants to know is how angry he is at my father. “He’s fine.”

“Your father will get used to him,” she says.

“He’ll have to.” That sounds flippant, but it’s not. It’s the truth.

“Emily,” she warns. She takes a deep breath. “Even you have to admit he’s not what your father envisioned for you.”

He’s not what I envisioned for myself, either. I never even hoped to find someone as kind and generous as Logan. “I know. Isn’t it great?”

My mother heaves a sigh. “There’s a party tomorrow at the hotel. Your father is hosting it. We’ll pick you up at three.”

“Wait,” I say. “Why do I have to go?”

“It’s a family event,” she says. “You should bring Logan. It’s not black tie, but it’s rather formal,” she warns.

“Mom,” I moan. I’m pretty sure Logan doesn’t own a tie, much less a black one. “I don’t want to go.” I probably sound like a two-year-old, but I don’t care.

“It’s not optional. Your father is presenting his new ad campaign, and there will be some New York officials there.”

“I wanted to spend tomorrow with Logan,” I say quietly.

“I told you to bring him with you.”

“He doesn’t have anything to wear,” I admit.

“Oh,” my mother chirps. “Never fear. I’ll take care of it. I’ll have some things sent over for him. And for you, too. You can both take your pick of what to wear and send the rest back. Or keep it. I don’t particularly care.”

I can see Logan in a formal setting. He can fit in anywhere. I’m sure of it. “All right,” I sigh. “Send it.”

“I’ll send it to your apartment.” She stops talking and lets me absorb her words. “That is where you’re staying, right?” she asks. I can almost feel her grin through the phone.

“Yes, Mom. My apartment.” I bite back a groan.

“We’ll pick you both up at three,” she tells me. “Love you.”