Crazy (The Gibson Boys 4)

His brows shoot to the ceiling. “So it’s Wes now, huh?”

“Wesley is a mouthful.”

“Is that one of your innuendos?” he teases.

“Well,” I say, batting my lashes. “I don’t actually know that to be true or not. But we could remedy that.”

“Name the place and time, sweetheart.”

I unwind my hand from his and take a step back. His eyes grow wide as I grin lasciviously.

“How about right here, right now?” I ask.

“I like it.”

“You will. I promise,” I say, working at his belt. “You will.”

His hands capture mine. He brings them to the small of my back as he tugs me close to him again. He kisses the tip of my nose.

“I’m going to hold you to that little promise,” he whispers. “But can I just kiss you first?”

I stand on my tiptoes and bring my lips to his. God, I love kissing this man. And I’m in awe that he didn’t want me on my knees first, pleasuring him, but wanted to kiss me before. First. Like it was more important.

What sort of a man does that?

This one. The one with a massive heart and a beguiling soul. And it’s at this moment that I know, without a doubt, there aren’t walls big enough to save me from him. If he wants to break my heart, I can’t do anything to stop him.

Twenty-Four

Dylan

I knock on the front door.

As soon as my knuckles touch the wood, I second-guess this decision. All of it. Not just the knocking on the front door as opposed to the back—the one that Peck and I used when we were here together, but also the fact that I’m even standing on Nana’s porch in the first place.

The materials I found at the hardware store in Merom today are piled at my feet. There are trays, rails, screws, and a battery-operated drill that I found in Peck’s garage. I also found some prepackaged hooks for kitchen cabinets to hang small saucepans or towels or bottles of cleaning liquids.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I singsong through clenched teeth. I bend to scoop up the stuff and scramble out of here when the door swings open.

Nana’s face lights up when she sees me. “Dylan! Oh, honey. I’m so glad to see you.” She scoots back so I can walk by. She spies the boxes at my feet. “What’s all that?”

“Well, I realize now that this might’ve been presumptuous of me, but I was bored today. I don’t start my job for a few more days. So I ventured over to Merom and spotted the hardware store, and before I knew it, I was leaving with the stuff to fix your cabinets.” I shrug meekly. “I hope that’s okay. If not, I can come back or even leave the stuff—”

“Stop,” she gushes. “This is the nicest thing. Please, come in.”

I hold the boxes in my arms and carry them inside. Nana shuts the door behind me.

She leads me through a formal living room that’s really not formal. Pictures dot the walls—tons of them. Baby pictures, others that I recognize as Peck and Machlan. The one closest to the doorway has to be a young Nana and Pops.

I pause, taking in the image. They’re standing in front of this house. Her arm is wrapped around his waist. She has the biggest smile on her face as she looks up at Pops. He’s tall, way taller than Peck, with shoulders that span a mile. He has a head of dark hair and a smirk that makes it impossible for him to deny Peck. It’s exact.

“What I wouldn’t give for those days,” Nana says. She’s standing beside me, looking longingly at the picture. “We had just had Eddie and Jessica.”

I furrow my brow.

“Eddie is Walker and the boys’ dad. Jessica is Vincent and Peck’s mom.” She smiles sadly. “He probably hasn’t told you much about her, has he?”

I shake my head. “Just that he isn’t really that close to her.” I leave out the bit that he doesn’t even know where she is to spare Nana any pain. I’m not sure what the deal is or what she knows, but I don’t want to make waves. It’s not my place.

Nana nods. “Well, my daughter hasn’t been that kind to her children. It breaks my heart.” Her voice quivers. She places a hand on her throat as she looks at the picture of her and her husband. “Jessie was a good girl. Absolutely beautiful. Smart as a whip. I just knew she was going to be a veterinarian as much as she loved animals. She’d spend every waking hour at the farm down the road if I let her.”

She looks lost in a memory I’m not privy to. I just stay quiet and let her work through whatever is going through her mind.

“Something happened to her. Drugs, I think,” she says. “She got with Mel—that’s Peck’s dad—and she was never the same. Still funny and could tell a story like nobody’s business.” She grins. “But she just … disconnected. It’s like she was afraid to get too close to anyone.”