Dump and Chase (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 1)

When they both aww, I cringe. “No, nothing like Romeo and Juliet. Our families love each other.”

Stella laughs. “But Shea will kill you dead.”

I swallow hard. “Which is why you guys can’t tell anyone!” I snap, but apparently I’m dead wrong.

They both look at me with such mischievous expressions.

Emery looks like a cat with a canary in her mouth as she says, “Actually, we can.”

Stella nods, looking more like Emery than the sweet girl I love. “We so can.”

“But that money in your wallet could buy our silence,” Emery says, and when she holds up her hand, Stella high-fives her.

Thick as thieves, these two.

It’s easy to say when I enter the kitchen, I’m out four hundred dollars and my heart still hasn’t slowed down.

“Aiden, baby, why do you look so pale?”

I shake my head as I sit down. “Your daughters are criminals,” I mutter, and my dad laughs.

“Especially the younger one.”

I shake my head. “Because the older one trained her.”

Dad laughs harder as Mom looks back at the girls, who are talking about how they’re gonna spend the money. Little assholes. Extorting their older brother. Way smarter than I was at that age. I was too obsessed with hockey to even know to do that. I was too obsessed with hockey to do a lot of things. I missed my whole senior year to go to college early. I don’t regret it. I wanted it. I didn’t need homecoming or prom or senior year crap. I wanted to go into the NHL, I wanted to be successful, and I did it. Because of that, I missed out on the whole having-a-relationship thing. Which is proving to be a bit of an issue now.

While everyone sits, ready for the meal, I feel as if I have a billion Minions in my head, tearing up Gru’s laboratory. It’s a mess up there, and I don’t know what the hell I’m feeling. I’m freaked to the max, though my family has no damn clue whatsoever. We eat dinner as we’ve been doing for most of my life. Stella and Emery steal the show; they’re funny and witty. My mom loves it and jokes with them. Asher doesn’t say much, but when he does, everyone listens. I stay mute, and thankfully, no one notices. But I do notice that my dad looks happy.

“What’s the grin about?” I find myself asking, and he squeezes my shoulder.

“It’s good to have everyone home,” he says proudly, and my heart swells. It is nice, even if Asher is an asshole and Stella and Emery should be starring in their own episode of Law and Order. I love my family. They’re my rock, and Dad’s right, it feels good to be together.

When dessert is served—my favorite, key lime pie—we’re arguing about how much skin Stella can show in her prom dress. Dad and I are pretty much on the same page—none—while Mom and Stella feel the stomach should be allowed.

“You can just not go,” Dad says then, and Stella pouts.

“That’s unfair.”

“Life isn’t fair, sweetheart, and while you live under my roof, you’ll stay covered up.” He points his fork at her. “A guy won’t want the milk if he can see the cow’s udders.”

I snort. “What the hell?”

The fork comes at me next. “Shut it, you.”

Asher gives Dad a look. “But Dad, I think we all know guys want the milk no matter what.”

Dad slams the fork on the table as we all laugh. “Not my baby’s milk!”

“Wow, okay, this conversation is done,” Mom announces loudly, shaking her head. When Stella starts to complain, Mom presses her hand into hers. “I’ll talk to him.”

Dad leans in. “And I’ll still say no.”

Mom gives him a look that says otherwise, but I don’t think anyone was supposed to catch that. That’s my mom and dad though, secret looks and sweet touches. When I notice a huge bouquet of red roses on the counter, I cock my head.

“What are the roses for?”

Mom grins over at Dad before he looks at me. “Just because.”

“Just because?”

He nods. “Yeah, because I love your mom. I wanted her to smile.”

Oh. I want to make Shelli smile.

Does that mean I love her?

I lean on my hand as I eat my pie. I wish pie could tell me what I feel. Asher pushes his plate away. I watch as he leans on his elbows and clears his throat. Stella, Dad, and Emery keep eating, but Mom and I look to him.

“What’s wrong, baby? Did you not like it?”

“Mom, the plate is empty.”

She grins. “Then why are you clearing your throat for my attention?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Because I need it.”

Dad finally looks up, and with his mouth full of pie, he says, “Well, you got it. What?”

Asher runs his hand along his mouth, and I notice he’s nervous. What’s wrong with him? “I didn’t just come home because I missed you guys.”