“Of course it is,” he responded, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He could tell his reaction confused her—truthfully, it confused him, too. But he hated not knowing something so integral about her. Even though he knew he shouldn’t want to know. He should like not knowing.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, and he nodded grimly. Then he watched as she turned to leave, even while everything in him wanted to snatch her back and keep her with him.
“Lia?” he called, just as she reached the landing. She stopped and looked back at him. “Text me when you get home.”
She nodded and then she was gone.
“Psst!” Lia jumped in fright at the urgent hissing sound coming from her right. She’d just exited the cabin and the surrounding woods were dark aside from the porch light and the few lights coming from Spencer’s house.
A little freaked out, Lia contemplated dashing back inside or making a run for her car, which was parked just a few yards away. Clearly the cabin was the sensible choice, and she turned to flee back inside when the hiss came again. This time accompanied by words.
“Psst! Lia!”
“Crumbs,” she muttered beneath her breath when she recognized Daff’s voice. She should probably have known that her oldest sister would eventually figure out what was going on. Especially since Lia had stupidly made no real effort to hide her car from view. She turned in resignation, and her eyes widened when Daff emerged from between two of the cherry trees that separated Spencer’s property from Mason’s.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Daff asked, her voice still pitched low, and Lia’s eyebrows flew to her hairline.
“Me? It’s the middle of the night. Have you been standing outside in the cold all this time waiting for me to come out? And what are you wearing?”
“Don’t deflect,” Daff said, folding her arms over her chest. Her plaid-covered chest. She seemed to be wearing a man’s pajama top. And fluffy rabbit slippers. She looked so unlike herself that Lia couldn’t stop staring at her in bemusement. “I knew something was up when Brand spun that bullshit story about his pain meds. How can you be sleeping with him? He’s bad news, Lia. He’s a player!” She spat out the last word as if it were the vilest insult she could come up with, and Lia laughed, which—if Daff’s shocked expression was anything to go by—completely threw her sister.
“I know that,” she said, holding her hands up in a placating manner. “Everybody knows that, which is why he’s perfect.”
“I don’t get it,” Daff admitted, and Lia snorted.
“I don’t want to have a relationship with him, I just want to have some stress-free fun.” Daff gaped at her like she had grown an extra head, and Lia sighed. “I’ve always been so good. I just wanted to try something different. This thing with Brand is temporary, and there’s no danger of me mistaking it for anything else. He can’t hurt me because I already know what to expect from him. It’ll end, he’ll leave, we’ll both move on.”
“What if you fall in love?”
“With Sam Brand?” Lia forced a hearty laugh that sounded genuine enough to fool her sister. Truth was, she hadn’t really expected to like Brand this much. He was fun, witty, arrogant, supremely self-confident, and genuinely likable. She needed to tread carefully, and despite what she’d told Brand earlier about there being no danger of her falling in love with him, she had to guard her heart more closely than she’d expected to.
“It’s all happened so fast, Lia. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Not that fast,” Lia admitted with a blush. “We kind of, sort of . . .”
“What? Spit it out.”
“At the wedding, we . . .”
“No! Oh my God! Are you serious? Are you telling me you and Brand had sex at our sister’s wedding?”
“And at the hen party.” Lia wasn’t sure why she was admitting this, but since Daff knew this much, she might as well know the rest. She was gaping at Lia like she didn’t know her at all, and some part of Lia enjoyed shocking her jaded older sister. It made her feel daring and interesting and unpredictable.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” Brand yanked open his front door and glared at them. His hair was sexily mussed, his chest was bare, and he was wearing a pair of boxer briefs. Lia immediately salivated at the sight of all that beautifully tanned nakedness and forced herself to focus on Daff, who was giving Brand her version of a death stare.
“You dick! I told you to stay away from my sister, didn’t I?” she seethed, and Brand’s chest heaved in exasperation.
“You did.” He nodded.
“You did?” Lia gasped at the same time.