The Havoc We Wreak (The Four 3)

Bored of their discussion, I stalked up to the reception desk, signing us in, leaving them talking together. The blonde girl behind the desk pouted and batted her eyelashes as she tried to flirt with me, but I ignored her advances.

“I’m free, later,” she purred, leaning closer to me.

Why wouldn’t she get the fucking hint? “Not interested. Try him. He’s single.” I pointed with my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of my brother, barely sparing her a glance.

“Two of you?” She practically salivated. “Is that your dad?” She continued talking, still not getting the hint that I wasn’t interested in making conversation. “He’s seriously hot for an older man.”

I grunted, not bothering with a reply. Undeterred, she tossed her hair over her shoulder, batting her lashes even harder as my dad and brother joined us at the reception desk.

Weston gave her one of his cheeky grins, then he just had to throw in a wink, and she gripped the edges of the desk, swooning.

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath.

“Everything ready?” My dad, with perfect timing, distracted them both from the sickening flirt-fest that was going on.

She straightened up, professional at last. “Yes. You can go on through, now.” She pressed the button under the desk that opened the automatic-locking gate that led into the rest of the building, and we pushed through.

At the gun range we were handed heavy pistols and ear defenders.

“We thought we could have a bit of a friendly competition.” West looked over at my dad, who was examining his gun, weighing it in his hand. “Dad?”

He glanced up from the pistol. “What did you have in mind?”

“Loser buys dinner?”

“You do realise who pays money into your bank accounts each month, don’t you?” He raised a brow, a small smirk crossing his lips. “Come on, then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He raised his gun, ready to go. The wall at the bottom of the range lit up, a set of spotlights indicating the prime targets, and the buzzer sounded to indicate our time had begun. No hesitation, he shot in quick succession, coolly and cleanly taking out the targets one by one, before pulling off his ear defenders and turning to me.

Tugging my own ear defenders off my head, I stared at him, open-mouthed. “That’s fucking impressive. Since when can you shoot? Other than clay pigeons, I mean.”

“Language,” he said, but there was no heat in his words. In fact, there was a sparkle in his eye, and he was…was he actually grinning at me? “I have plenty of skills, son. Maybe your old man can teach you a thing or two.”

I shook my head, a smile tuggi

ng at the corners of my lips. “I think I can beat you,” I said confidently. “Maybe I’ll be the one teaching you.”

“Do your worst.” He indicated towards the target.

As it turned out, he beat both me and Weston by a narrow margin. As the lights dimmed, indicating our time was up, I glanced at my watch, surprised to see how much time had passed. This was…unexpected. Really fucking unexpected. We’d spent hours together, and yeah, we’d had a good time. Fuck, I wanted to do it again.

Shaking my head internally at that thought, I followed West and my dad down the corridor towards the exit.

We headed out of the building, the sky outside now dark and dotted with stars, and paused by the cars.

“I had a good time, boys. Speak to my secretary to arrange dinner. Bring Winter. We can have a family meal.”

Weston groaned, under his breath, but my dad caught it. A thoughtful expression stole across his face. “Christine goes to play bridge most Wednesday nights. Why don’t the three of you come over on a Wednesday, and we can order food?”

“Like we used to do. Before…” Weston said softly, his voice cracking. I stepped closer, placing my hand on his shoulder.

My dad nodded. “It’s about time we restarted some of our old family traditions, don’t you think?”

I was fucking floored. All I could do was nod in agreement.

“Wait, before you go. I have something for you.” My dad unlocked his car, reaching into the back and pulling out a bag that he handed to me. “I believe these belong to your stepsister.”

Shocked, I stared into the bag, seeing Winter’s shoes and then back at him.