Carmine awoke the next afternoon to a house in total chaos. Tess and Dia stood on chairs in the family room, tacking streamers around the window, while Haven sorted through a box of fake flowers. Dominic ran from one room to another, following orders barked at him from Tess.
Sneaking into the room, Carmine grabbed Tess’s chair and vehemently shook it, startling her. Yelling, Tess leaped off the chair, and he covered his head as she punched him in the back. “You’re such a jerk, Carmine!”
“Yeah, well, you hit like a little girl.” The words barely left his mouth when her fist shot out, punching him right in the chest. He winced. “Damn!”
Tess smirked. “Who’s the little girl now?”
“Apparently me,” he said, rubbing his chest as he eyed his brother, arranging flowers he’d gotten from Haven. “I’m starting to feel like one, anyway, in a room full of bitches.”
“What did you call me?” Haven’s voice had an edge he’d never heard from her before.
His brow furrowed until it dawned on him what he’d said. “Ah, shit . . .” Bitch. “Nothing.”
She turned back to the flowers without a word, handing more of them to Dominic, and Carmine watched her before approaching. Leaning close, his lips beside her ear, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
She said nothing. Guilt tugged at his chest. He couldn’t tell if she believed him.
* * *
After the house was decorated, Carmine put on his pirate costume, sliding on the black pants and boots before buttoning up the white ruffled shirt and tying the red bandanna around his head. Grabbing the big black hat, he headed down to see Dominic in the foyer, wielding a sword.
“Which dumbass gave him a weapon?” Carmine called out, barely evading the plastic blade as his brother swung it at him. “You people should know better by now.”
“No one gave it to him,” Tess said, stepping out of the family room in her devil costume. “He found it on his own.”
Shaking his head, Carmine headed toward the office under the stairs, punching in the code to unlock the door. The room looked like a normal office, with a wooden mahogany desk and a black leather chair. A Persian rug covered the floor, and Carmine folded the corner, exposing the hidden door. He opened it and headed down the flimsy stairs into the basement, flicking on the light. A subtle glow came over the room, revealing dozens of wooden crates.
Using the front of his shirt to cover his hand, he pulled the top off the one closest to the stairs and grabbed a few bottles of liquor. He didn’t go any farther, having no desire to venture to the back.
ouse smelled like Pine-Sol when Carmine arrived home that afternoon, the aroma so heavy it stung his eyes. He stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, seeing Haven scrubbing the marble floor. She hummed, oblivious to his presence, and he listened as he tried to place the song.
She stood and turned around, the humming cut off by a yelp. “You’re home!”
He chuckled as she dropped the sponge. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, hummingbird.”
“You didn’t. I was only . . .” She trailed off as she eyed him peculiarly. “Hummingbird?”
“Yeah, hummingbird. Colibri. You kinda remind me of one.”
He felt like an idiot as those words hung between them.
She looked bewildered. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “They’re these little colorful birds that flutter around and hum. And, you know, you’re kinda the same way.”
Her cheeks flushed. “You heard me?”
“I’ve heard you a few times. It’s, uh . . .” He didn’t know what to say. “What song is it?”
“It’s something my mama used to sing.”
She fidgeted, averting her eyes. Her sweatpants and tank top were splattered with soapy water, her hair all over the place.
“You should get dressed,” he suggested. “We have somewhere to go, and I’m sure you’d rather put on something else.”
She eyed him skeptically. “Okay.”
She lingered for a moment before heading upstairs. He rolled his tense shoulders as he silently berated himself, wishing he’d loosen up around her. His anxiety fueled hers, and the last thing he wanted was for her to avoid him again.