I might as well have said, “Sure, bud. Go get yourself a hot dog.” Because my dog took off like a streak.
“Looks like we’re joining the party,” Jeremiah observed.
“Fuck. I’m getting a beer first.”
A minute later, cold beers in hand, we wandered around the back of the cottage to find half of Knockemout on Naomi’s porch.
Sloane, the pretty librarian, was there with her niece, Chloe, who was wading knee-deep in the creek with Waylay and my grandmother’s dogs. Liza J was sitting next to Tallulah while Justice manned the grill and my pain in the ass brother flirted with Naomi.
She looked like summer.
Considering I’d had two sips of beer, I couldn’t blame alcohol on my mental prose. My mouth went dry as my gaze started at her bare feet, then moved up the long, tan legs to where they disappeared under the flirty, lemon yellow sundress.
“So that’s the problem,” Jeremiah said smugly. He was looking right at Naomi, and I didn’t much care for it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
Waylon barreled his way up onto the porch and made a beeline for the grill.
“Waylon!” Naomi looked delighted to see my dog. She crouched down to greet him, and even from here, the peek of cleavage was enough to tie my balls in a knot.
“Waylon,” I barked.
My jerk of a dog was too busy enjoying the affection of a beautiful woman to bother listening to me.
“Knox! Jer!” Tallulah called when she spotted us in the yard. “Join us.”
Naomi looked up, and I saw the sunshine fade from her face when she spotted me. The ice walls went up.
“We don’t want to impose,” Jeremiah said, cagily eyeing the spread. There were deviled eggs, grilled vegetables, some kind of layered dip thing in a fancy dish, and four kinds of desserts. On the grill, Justice was turning chicken breasts and hot dogs.
“You’re welcome to join us,” Naomi said through a smile that was more gritted teeth than invitation. Her message was clear. She didn’t want me here at her cozy little dinner party.
Well, I didn’t want her in my head every time I closed my fucking eyes. So I considered the score equal.
“If you insist,” Jeremiah said, shooting me a triumphant look.
“Nice flowers,” I said. There was a blue vase overflowing with wild blooms in the center of the table.
“Nash brought them,” Naomi said.
I wanted to smack the smug look of satisfaction right off my brother’s face.
So he brought a girl flowers, and I could barely get her to say two words to me. He should know better than to challenge me like that.
I played dirty. Even when I didn’t care about winning. I just wanted Nash to lose.
* * *
Between eatingand shooting the shit with Naomi’s eclectic guests, I watched her. She sat between Waylay and Nash, who had all but pushed me out of the way like we were playing musical chairs. The conversation was lively, the mood upbeat.
Naomi laughed and talked and listened, all while keeping an eye on everyone’s plates and glasses, offering second helpings and top-offs with the expertise of someone who spent their life looking out for others.
She was warm, attentive, funny. Except to me.
So maybe I’d been a bit of a dick. Personally, I didn’t think that was enough of an infraction for me to be relegated to Ice Town.
I noticed every time Sloane or Chloe mentioned something about school starting, Naomi got pale and sometimes excused herself to go inside.
She talked to Jeremiah about hair and Whiskey Clipper. She talked about coffee and small business with Justice and Tallulah. And had no problem smiling at any stupid thing that came out of my brother’s mouth. But no matter how long I watched her, she never once glanced in my direction. I was the invisible dinner guest, and it was rubbing me the wrong way.
“Liza J was telling us stories of you and Nash growing up earlier,” Justice said to me.
I could only imagine which stories my grandmother had decided on. “Was it the rock fight in the creek or the zip line from the chimney?” I asked my brother.
“Both,” Nash said, lips quirked.
“It was quite the childhood,” I told Justice.
“Did your parents live with you?” Waylay asked. It was an innocent question coming from a kid who knew what it was like to not live with her parents.
I swallowed and looked for an escape.
“We lived with our parents until our mom passed,” Nash told her.
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” That came from Naomi, and this time she was looking right fucking at me.
I nodded stiffly.
“Naomi, did you pick up Waylay’s school laptop yet?” Sloane asked. “My sister said Chloe’s was a little buggy.”
“Yeah, every time I open the internet, it restarts. How am I supposed to watch age-appropriate videos on YouTube with no internet?” Chloe chimed in.
“Or, I don’t know, do school work?” Sloane teased.
“I could probably take a look at it,” Waylay offered.
Chloe’s brown eyes widened. “You’re a STEM girl?”
“What’s that?” Waylay asked with suspicion.
“Science Technology Engineering Math,” Sloane filled in.
“Yeah. Nerd stuff,” Chloe added.
Sloane elbowed her niece.
“Ow! I don’t mean nerd like bad. Nerds are good. Nerds are cool. Nerds are the ones who grow up to run companies and make bazillions of dollars,” Chloe said. She looked at Waylay. “Nerds are definitely good.”
The tops of Waylay’s ears turned pink.
“My mom always said nerds were losers,” she said quietly. She shot Naomi a look. “She said girls who liked dresses and doing their hair were…uh, bad.”
I had the sudden urge to hunt down Tina and drop-kick her ass into the creek for not being the kind of mother her kid needed.
“Your mom got a lot of things mixed up, kiddo,” Naomi said, running her hand over Waylay’s hair. “She didn’t understand that people could be more than one thing or like more than one thing. You can wear dresses and makeup and build rockets. You can dress in suits and play baseball. You can be a millionaire and work in your pajamas.”
“Your mom doesn’t like dresses and hair?” Chloe scoffed. “She’s missing out. I had two wardrobe changes for my birthday last year, and I got a bow and arrow. You be you. Don’t let someone who doesn’t like fashion tell you anything.”
“Listen to Chloe, who’s about to lose a hot dog off her plate— Get down, Waylon,” Liza said.
My dog froze, mid-sneak.
“We can still see you even if you’re not movin’, dumbass,” I reminded him.
Waylay giggled.
Pouting, Waylon slunk back under the table. Seconds later, I noticed Waylay tear off a piece of her hot dog and casually tuck it under the checkered cloth.
Naomi noticed it too but didn’t tattle on either one of them.
“If you brought your laptop along, I could take a look,” Waylay offered.
“Well, if you’re doing a little post-dinner tech support,” Tallulah said, pulling a huge iPad out of her work bag, “I just got this for the shop, and I’m having trouble transferring everything over from the old one.”
“Ten dollars a job,” I said, slapping the table.
Everyone’s eyes came to me. Waylay’s lips quirked.
“Waylay Witt doesn’t work for free. You want the best? You gotta pay for it,” I told them.
Her tiny smile was a smirk now, which morphed into a full-out grin when Tallulah yanked a $10 bill out of her purse and handed it over. “First paying customer,” Tallulah said proudly.
“Aunt Sloane!” Chloe hissed.
Sloane grinned and went for her purse. “Here’s a $20 for your trouble. Miss Fashion here also dribbled honey on the space bar when she was making tea.”
Waylay pocketed the bills and sat down to get to work.
This time, Naomi locked eyes with me. She didn’t smile, didn’t say “thank you” or “get me naked tonight.” But there was still something there. Something I itched to unlock simmering in those hazel eyes.
And then it was gone.
“Excuse me,” she said, pushing back from the table. “I’ll be right back.”
Nash watched her walk away, that bright yellow material sliding over tanned thighs.
I couldn’t blame him. But I also couldn’t let him have her.
When Jeremiah caught his attention with a question about football, I used it as an opportunity to follow Naomi inside. I found her bent over the rolltop desk next to the stairs in the living room.
“Whatcha doing?”
She jumped, shoulders hitching. Then spun around, holding her hands behind her back. When she saw it was me, she rolled her eyes. “Is there something you need? A slap across the face? An excuse to leave?”
I closed the distance between us slowly. I didn’t know why I was doing it. I just knew that watching her smile at my brother made my chest tight, that being frozen out was getting to me. And the closer I moved to her, the warmer I felt.
“Thought money was tight,” I said when she tilted her head to look up at me.
“Oh, bite me, Viking.”