Mountain Delights (Wild Mountain Men 2)

I studied her closely. “What are you saying?”

“Nothing,” Mom replied.

“Nothing,” I repeated. “I wasn’t supposed to enlist when we broke up? You had a plan for me?”

She looked to Dad. “To take your spot in the family business.”

“And Kit held me back how?”

“Think of the grandchildren! Her mother is crazy.”

I knew all about Kit’s mother and her hoarding, her agoraphobia. I didn’t give a shit about that. Kit was sweet. Kind. She’d been great. Back then, I’d thought I loved her, and perhaps in a teenager’s way, I had. But grandkids? Kit hadn’t ever had sex before. I highly doubted she’d thought about making babies. Then, or maybe even now.

“What did you do?” I asked, my voice low.

“Nothing,” she said once more.

I spun on my heel, went into the great room. All the furniture was gone, only a few boxes were stacked in the corner, a standing lamp by the windows. This was all that was left of Erin’s life. She’d bought the house with her trust fund money, getting advice from our parents on the right neighborhood, the right furniture.

They were never going to change. I’d accepted it long ago. Hell, I’d gone off to fucking war to get away from them. I was twenty-seven years old, and they still talked about a girlfriend from almost a decade ago. A girlfriend I was suspecting had never broken up with me, that my parents had been involved somehow.

They hated Kit. They hated I’d gone to war. They hated my career choice. That I didn’t touch my trust fund or live the expected Mills lifestyle. Of everything I did. Everything was wrong.

“What are you doing with Erin’s things?” I asked, instead of telling them to fuck off. Instead of words, I’d been telling them that with everything I’d done since I turned twenty.

“The guest house. The furniture there needs an update.”

The guest house was five thousand square feet and had a movie theater and indoor pool. I doubted it needed any kind of upgrade. The fact that they were emptying out their daughter’s house without even shedding a single tear, relegating her things to furnish a home for visitors… it showed a coldness that made me ache for Hailey. For the closeness we shared. The feeling of belonging.

Because if they were this unfeeling about the child who they loved, then I could only imagine how they’d have been if something had happened to me. Like a rummage sale out on the front lawn.

I walked over to a filled trash bag, glanced into the open top. Reaching down, I grabbed out the skull jewelry box I’d given to Erin when I was ten.

“That’s going in the trash,” Mom called. “Silly junk.”

I stared at the jewelry box. It wasn’t worth anything, just a piece of plastic that told the time, but I’d gotten it from the back of a cereal box when the Pirates of the Caribbean movie had been in the theaters. Erin had seen it and wanted it so bad, being the only girl who had a scary skull to hold her earrings. I’d gotten it for her, mailed in the cereal labels and money, then waited weeks for it to arrive. I’d surprised her with it and it had been the one—and probably only thing—that connected us.

The fact that she’d kept it all this time made my heart ache, made me realize there was a piece of her that still connected to me. She hadn’t shown it, hadn’t put any effort into a sibling relationship, but the stupid skull jewelry box? It said so much.

No fucking way was it going in the trash.

“Hello!”

I looked up at the sound of Hailey’s voice from the open doorway. All the anger, the frustration went away at the sight of her. She had on a pair of cargo pants with sneakers and her gray coat. Her hair was pulled back into a sloppy bun. She looked ready to help move.

Yeah, I loved her. Fuck, did I. My dick agreed, perking up at just the sound of her voice. I remembered what we’d done earlier. Christ, it had been hot. And watching Cy carry her off to his room, to hear her cries of pleasure as I took a shower and got ready to leave, to know she was getting thoroughly fucked… I shifted my cock in my pants to a more comfortable position.

I had to tell her. I had to say the words. But what if I failed her? I had no doubt I would. Thank fuck Cy was with her, too. Now, and hopefully always.

My parents came out of the kitchen, their drinks abandoned on the counter, to greet her. They offered her hugs and air kisses like she belonged.

She belonged with me. And Cy, who stood behind her and shook my dad’s hand.

Cy was all too familiar with my family dynamics, and it amazed me that they were civil with him, let alone all

owing him into Erin’s house. What the fuck was up with that?

If they still held a grudge against Kit Lancaster for doing nothing but being herself, then I would have assumed they’d shoot Cy on sight for what his dad had done. They were the first to think that blood tainted blood and Mr. Seaborn had falsely admitted to killing Erin, their beloved daughter. But no, they still liked him just fine.