Chapter Twenty
? Nicolas ?
I watch Isla across the room with an armload of dirty dishes.
Her long legs move effortlessly despite the plug I know is still corking her pretty cunt.
Impressive, honestly. I’ve had plugs pop out with just a sneeze and the awkwardness of it still haunts me, but she’s holding it together remarkably well.
But it’s not her clenching abilities that have me tracking her every movement like a cat watching a bird. It has nothing to do with the hard-on I’ve been discreetly adjusting beneath my slacks when no one’s watching.
She... seems different.
Her smiles aren’t edged with tension.
Her eyes don’t test the room as if counting every exit.
When she laughs and the sound drowns every noise, it’s unhampered and beautiful.
I don’t know what happened between her and Macie on the porch, but Isla wears it well.
“You scowl any harder and you’ll curdle the wine.” Grandma Lee peers up at me from over the rims of her plastic glasses.
The woman sits alone and unbothered on the sofa next to me. A long train of knitted wool spools across her lap and disappears into the carpet bag at her feet.
I swear, whatever she’s knitting, she’s been working on the same piece since I was a kid. I’m pretty sure she was eighty then, too.
“Not scowling,” I grumble without heat.
A finely penciled eyebrow lifts. “No? Could have fooled me. What’s got you all scruffy over there?”
“Not scruffy either. Just... enjoying the night.”
Her gnarled hands move and loop yarn over razor sharp needles that catch the firelight with every flick.
“The night or the leggy thing in the cute skirt?” She smirks when I blink at her. “You think you’re subtle?”
I guess we haven’t been, but the thoughts of others seem unimportant on the heels of everything else. Part of me thinks Dom’s right and no one’s going to care, while another part is too tired to care. The last few days have been far too exhausting and stressful and I’m ready to get Isla home.
“She’s a good kid.” Grandma Lee drops her attention down to her task. “Impressive, given her mother.”
I leave Isla-watch to Dom and fixate on the woman beside me.
“What about her mother?”
Her scoff is derogatory. Sharp. “I’m not one to gossip.
No mother is perfect, Lord, I know. Mine would make us go pick our own spanking branch.
Then she’d give us cookies and tell us not to do it again.
It’s all considered barbaric nowadays.” She pauses to tug at her wool when it catches on a knot.
“Not sure what you would call Macie’s type of.
.. parenting, but it was never mothering.
That woman doesn’t have a maternal bone in her useless body. ”
Did everyone see it but me?
Was I really so oblivious and blind?
My gaze drifts to where Isla and Dom are working together to empty unfinished food and scrub the dishes. They’re moving as if they’d done this a hundred times. Each one, knowing their job.
“Why did you never say anything?” I demand, angry at Grandma Lee, but angrier with myself.
Grandma Lee ceases her knitting and fixes me with those unfathomable eyes. “To who? Your father? To you?”
I want to snarl yes, but it’s not her fault I was an idiot. She only saw Isla on random holidays for a few hours. I practically lived with her during those weekends. If anyone should be yelled at, it’s me.
I apologize to Grandma Lee and start to push to my feet when I spot Dad and Macie standing off to one side, heads bent close.
Dad has his glasses in his hands, eyebrows furrowed while he listens with bewilderment.
Macie seems to be doing all the talking and whatever she’s saying has Dad shaking his head.
Macie doesn’t seem to like that. Her entire head jerks back as if Dad struck her.
Curiosity has me moving to join them.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
Dad’s frowning, but Macie’s expression brightens. She smiles at me with her usual warmth.
“Nicky.” She grips my arm and drags me the rest of the way to join their group. “I was just telling your father that I think for your next Christmas visit, we should do something small and intimate for the holidays. Maybe just the three of us.”
“And I told Macie that wouldn’t be fair to Dominic or Isla.” He stresses Isla’s name as if reminding his wife that she had a daughter.
But Macie flicks a wrist dismissively. “Oh, you know Isla. She’s such a wild and unpredictable card. I bet she won’t even want to join. But of course Dominic is always welcome. He’s family.”
“I don’t see why Dom and I would attend anything Isla isn’t invited to,” I remark, careful to never lift my gaze off Macie’s face.
“Well, of course she’s invited.” Macie titters. “But she’s decided holidays with family just aren’t something she’s interested in doing anymore. She mentioned traveling and some man she’s eager to return to.”
If I was Nick from a week ago, I probably would have believed her. Why would she lie about something like that? It’s insane. Isla’s her daughter. No mother would intentionally sabotage her daughter’s happiness
And yet, here I stand. Watching it happen.
“I guess she told you our plans,” I fabricate. “Isla, Dom and I are thinking about traveling for a bit.”
Dad slips his glasses down over his nose and offers me a supportive smile. “It’s nice to hear you three are getting along. Certainly makes me happy.”
Macie does not look happy.
She’s wearing the expression of someone who chewed on a sour candy.
“Oh, you don’t want to do that,” she says hurriedly. “Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if she isn’t packed and gone by morning.”
I chuckle. “I would certainly hope she’s packed.
We have a long drive from Texas to New York.
We want a head start before the traffic.
” I wait for the second when it registers across Macie’s face before adding in the same tone, “Isla’s moving in with us.
We thought that would be best given that we love her and intend to be with her. ”
Dad doesn’t get it.
I can see him struggling to do the math, but Macie... Macie’s entire face is a crimson pool of outrage. Her very nostrils flare.
“Why would you do something so... ridiculous?” she grits out through her teeth.
“Because we love her. It seems like a good idea.” I cock my head to the side and study my stepmother. “Is something wrong?”
Her head snaps from me to my dad like she’s hoping he will reprimand me, but that isn’t how dad does things.
“She is your sister, Nicky,” she hisses, careful to keep her voice low. “That’s... abhorrent.”
My expression goes stiff. “Be very careful about what you say next.”
She must sense the thin ice she’s treading. It’s in the nervous giggle she gives before answering.
“What will people think?”
“They’ll think I’m the luckiest man alive to have two partners I’m hopelessly in love with.
Also, I don’t care what they think. I’m taking Dom and Isla back home to New York where we will start our lives together.
I suppose, since Isla is no longer welcome for the holidays, that gives us more time together. ”
“That is not at all what we were saying,” Macie protests sharply, a little too loud.
Loud enough that heads turn in our direction. Including Isla and Dom who have forgotten about the dishes and stand watching us.
“So, Isla’s welcome?” I challenge.
Even Dad notices her lengthy hesitation.
“Macie?” He nudges her.
“Of course she’s welcome.” Her long fingers twist into knots at her stomach like she’s trying to restrain herself from saying anything more.
It wouldn’t take a degree in rocket science to know she’s lying. Even if it didn’t look like she was trying to chew steel.
“That’s good.”
But we won’t be coming back. I’ll make the trip down to visit Dad. Maybe we can have a boys’ weekend and go camping for a few days. He’d love that.
As far as Macie goes, she can stay in my life. There aren’t many opportunities where our paths will cross, but I will make sure she is not included in my family.
I move away from her and Dad, and start in the direction of the kitchen where Isla is watching me with big eyes and her lip caught between her teeth. The nervous expression has me framing her face and pulling her to me.
“Breathe,” I tease her. “No one’s taking you from me.”
She offers me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “They could change your mind.”
I snort and kiss her. “That’s not possible.” I kiss her again when her lashes lower with uncertainty. “Go sit. I’ll help finish.”
She doesn’t argue, but presses the dishtowel into my fingers and shuffles to stand behind the sofa and watch the ongoing poker battle between my uncles, including Jacob who has been telling everyone he broke his leg saving an old lady from getting hit by a car.
The car became an SUV after two beers. The SUV became a truck after five. After eight, it was a semi and he had to run across six lanes of traffic while clutching a box of stray kittens he was taking to the children’s hospital.
Not one person questions his story. They don’t even ask how he got the lady back to his car with a broken leg and a box of kittens. There’s a clicking of tongues and shuffling of cards, and nothing else.
Isla rests her forearms on the back of the sofa and bends over.
The hem of her skirt hikes up the back of her thighs.
The fabric strains across the perfect shape of her ass and I am incapable of stopping my brain from pointing out that she is the perfect level.
It’s only the fact that we’re surrounded by a small army of partially drunk relatives that prevents me from following through.
Resigned, I move to my boyfriend’s side and take the dish he passes me.
“How do you always get roped into this?” I ask him, scrubbing the dish dry and taking it to the cupboard.
“I volunteer,” Dom replies smartly. “I’d rather clean than have to deal with... people.”
A fact that never fails to amuse me.