Bargaining with the Bride (Honeybrook Love, Inc. 1)

Rachael leapt from the counter, forcing him to clamp down on his own tongue as she sprinted for the opposite side of the room. He turned to call to her and ask what the hell had come over her, when he finally registered the sounds of Tesla's panicked yells. The tiny pug was crooning and racing for the front door like his long lost herd had rediscovered him at last.

"What the—" He started, but cut himself off when one finally sound carried through the spacious kitchen, vacant and definitely audible.

The chime of the front door opening.

He grabbed his shirt from where it pooled at his feet and stared around for Rachael again. Apparently, she'd heard the bell too, because she'd shoved herself in her tiny pantry and was in the process of closing the door from the inside when he finally spotted her.

"Did you invite someone?" He whispered.

"No—"

"You'd think after so many episodes of dateline you wouldn't hide your key under the mat. Seriously, that's serial killer 101." A voice, not unlike Rachael's sultry tones, called from the foyer, growing louder as the sentence went on.

"Shit. My sister. Distract her so I can get upstairs," Rachael hisse, and then creaked the door closed just as the voice rounded the corner into the room.

"Isn't anyone ho—well, hello there." The woman offered Garret a wide smile and jutted her hip out so as to lean against the wall.

If he didn't know for a fact that this was Rachael's sister, he might never have believed it. Sure, they had the same sort of heart-shaped face, but that was where the comparison stopped. Where Rachael was thin and angular, her sister was all curves. Where Rachael's hair was richly dark and curly, her sister partially obscured her stick-straight dark locks with caramel highlight. They were opposites in every way, including the easy smile that rested lazily on the woman's face.

"Ni

ce to meet you," Garret said as he crossed the room with an outstretched arm. "You must be Rachael's sister."

"Eliza, the one and only." She took his hand in a surprisingly firm grip, and then used the hold to pull him into a hug. "You're the man in my big sister's life?"

"That I am." He cleared his throat, trying to figure out the best way to clear a path for Rachael. He couldn't hear her, but he felt as though her frustration weighed down the air around him. If they stayed in the kitchen another second longer, he was sure Eliza's spidey senses would tingle or something and she's find her half-naked sister in the closet.

"Were these changes yours?" She gestured around to the kitchen. "Last time I was here the place was a—" she paused, then crouched down to the floor and came up with the tatters of her sister's shirt, a half-smile still perched on her face.

"That's Tesla's work." Garret nodded toward the pug, who had apparently had enough excitement for one day and was already working on his evening nap beneath the table.

"Tesla, huh? That's got to be your doing, too. Rachael's not exactly the dog type. Or the cat type. Or the fish type." She laughed. "Speaking of which, where is she?"

He wracked his brain for an answer, but before he could find one, he heard a faint sneeze from the pantry.

Shit.

He glanced toward Eliza to see if she’d noticed, but she was too busy petting a very disinterested Tesla.

“Rachael is upstairs, uh…” He stared around the kitchen, hoping that some golden opportunity would stare him in the face. All he found, though, were some left over cartons of Chinese food and a whole bunch of nothing else. “Changing. She spilled food on herself. You know Rachael, world-class klutz.”

“I don’t know that Rachael, but I’d be interested to see it,” Eliza smiled.

Strike two. One more slip up like that, and they’d both be caught.

Then, as if his heart rate wasn’t already reaching world-record heights, Eliza added, “I’ll be even more interested to see what my parents have to say.”

“Luckily, we have a little while to find out for all of that.” Garret smiled, but it was short-lived.

Eliza shook her head, her small, tight mouth a stark contrast to her ever-widening eyes, “About that—“

Rachael thundered down the stairs so quickly he was shocked she hadn’t left a trail of dust behind her. “What do you mean?” she demanded.

Eliza plopped onto the couch again with so much effort that she managed to startle Tesla, "It's a long story."

"By which you mean..." Rachael prompted.

"You will be infuriated."