Chapter 6 – Will
six
. . .
“Men are a fucking nightmare”
Will
A few days later, I’m sitting at the kitchen dining table planning Drew’s surprise birthday party in August when my cell vibrates with an alert that someone is waiting at the gates to our driveway.
I open the app and see my sister sitting behind the wheel of a white rental car.
Strange. I thought she flew straight back to Brooklyn from Banff?
I hit the option to make an announcement through the speaker. “The Jones residence doesn’t accept unscheduled visitors. Please return once an appointment has been made.”
I watch the driver window lower as June slides her sunglasses atop her head. “Fuck off, Will. I am a Jones, so this is technically my house too.”
Snickering, I open the gates and finish up on the research I was doing.
Drew wouldn’t divorce me if I booked a birthday meal at the top of the Space Needle, would she? She coped just fine in the gondola that time and that was higher and way scarier.
Although, she did use me as a distraction…
My dick twitches.
Not a good memory to be having when your sister is about to walk through your front door, Will.
“Christ, Seattle in a heatwave is not fun!” June guffaws a minute later, pulling on the neck of her purple sweater as she steps into the kitchen and stops dead in her tracks at the sight of me in front of a laptop.
“When did you start wearing glasses?” she asks, heading straight for the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. She tosses one to me and I unscrew the lid, taking a couple of gulps before setting it down on the table.
I pull off my black frames and hand them to her to try on.
“Couple of months and only for reading.”
She pushes them up her nose, and I click my fingers, immediately asking for them back. “I’m going to ignore that they suit you better than me.”
June pulls out a chair and sets her black tote bag on the floor. “Don’t be surprised, bro, I am the better-looking sibling.” She flicks out her long dark hair, and I roll my eyes, taking my glasses back and putting them on.
She eyes my laptop. “What are you doing? Don’t tell me you’re studying for a postgraduate in the offseason?”
For a second, I’m mildly tempted by the idea. I fucking loved studying for my degree in math.
June holds up a hand and frowns at me. “Seriously, please don’t get any grandiose visions.
You literally never stop. If you aren’t on the ice, you’re in the gym or going for a run somewhere.
” She holds up a finger. “And I don’t care how smart you are, no one can complete a postgrad degree in a four-month window. ”
I spin the laptop around to face her. “Well, it’s a good job I’m not studying then, isn’t it? I’m actually busy making all my wife’s dreams come true.”
She gapes at the screen. “Please tell me you haven’t booked that. I’ve been up the Needle and Drew will hate you forever. She’s only just getting over the wedding.”
“I beg to differ,” I counter. “She told me the other day that she likes how exciting I keep our relationship.” Reaching into my back pocket, I grab my wallet and slide my Amex from its holder.
June lunges forward and snatches it from my hand.
I try to take it back but fail.
She tuts and moves it out of my reach. “I always did have the faster reaction speed, Will.”
My sister isn’t wrong. In fact, I’ll be the first to admit that she pretty much annihilated me at most sports when we were younger.
To this day, I can’t understand why she didn’t want to turn pro in something.
Just watching her play tennis the other day was awesome.
It’s like she got Mom’s good looks and brains, Dad’s athletic ability, and supercharged both skillsets.
And she calls me the smart one.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” I change the subject, swiveling the laptop back around to face me. Maybe June’s right about dinner at the top of the Space Needle. I close the lid and decide to put a pin in that plan.
“Can I have my credit card back now, please?”
She shakes her head and bends down, pulling a brochure from her tote bag. “No. I need your opinion on something first.”
My eyes grow wide when she opens the brochure on a page featuring a waterfront three-bedroom property in Laurelhurst. It’s fucking stunning but it’s also priced at over $5,000,000.
I clear my throat and she points to the first image, excitement dancing in her eyes.
“I’m thinking of making an offer on this place.
Mom wanted to come and view it with me but they’re in Barbados for another week and I don’t want to miss out.
I flew back to Brooklyn on Sunday, and I got a call from the realtor the following day, asking if I was interested.
I just finished a guided tour and let me tell you something”—she wiggles her brows in jest—“royalty wouldn’t feel out of place living there. ”
My sister has mentioned moving to Seattle before, but that was months ago and I thought she’d dropped the idea.
I run a hand through my hair, wishing Drew was here instead of at work. I’m shit a broaching awkward subjects, and she’s fucking awesome at it.
“Do you have five million in the bank?”
She twists her lips to the side, eyeing me carefully. “My business is taking off and I’m making a lot in advertisement, so I have half if I include the money in my trust fund.”
I balk. “June, that’s a lot of cash to drop on your first house, I—”
“Mom and Dad said that they will temporarily cover the other half,” she interjects before I offer to help her out financially.
“They see it as a really good investment opportunity, and I’ll repay them over time until I own a hundred per cent because I don’t want to rely forever on their money.
” She pauses and quirks a brow at me in warning.
“Or my brother’s. My business will be an empire by the time I’m through building it, just like Mom did with her legal practice. ”
I sit back in my seat, dragging my palms across the table.
She rolls her eyes at me, a pink flush staining her cheeks. “Seriously, Will. You, of all people, cannot pass judgment on spending money.” Her eyes rove my house, and she thumbs behind her toward the front door. “Have you seen the place you live in and the cars in your driveway?”
She has a point.
“It’s not my decision to make, JJ,” I say, using her nickname to lighten the conversation. “If the house is what you want and moving to Seattle is where you want to be then go for it. You know that I’ll support you in whatever decisions you make.”
Her eyes soften. Occasionally, my twin sister can be affectionate.
“The truth is…” She twists her hands around on the table and after a beat, says, “I miss you.”
Okay, I was not expecting that level of affection.
June bites down on the inside of her cheek. “It feels like we barely spend any time together anymore. We shared a uterus for crying out loud, and now I only get to see you if I’m interviewing a player in Seattle, flying over to watch one of your games, or celebrating the holidays.”
I open my mouth to speak but she continues, moving her hands as she grows more animated.
“With you marrying Drew… I love that, truly. But I miss the days when you’d video call me and talk about your day or we’d do something crazy like meet up for an all-you-can-eat meal and compete over who could eat the most plates of food.”
I snort a laugh at the last time we did that. It was years ago and before I started obsessing over my diet in preparation for the pros. Chinese was the food of choice that time and June ate me under the table.
“That used to give me the worst indigestion.”
She barks out a laugh, and I creep my hand across the table, resting a couple of fingers over hers.
“I’m sorry that I’ve not been around as much as I used to be.”
June waves away my apology, looking every bit my mother as she does it. Jones women are a different breed of badass. They have the biggest hearts, but the strongest bars built around them. Whoever June falls for in her life will need balls of steel, or a really good angle grinder.
“Don’t be silly. Your priority is Drew these days and I get that. And when you start a family you’ll be even busier.”
I’m ready to spill that Drew and I are already trying but pull back at the final moment. Like I said, waiting twelve weeks to break the news of a pregnancy is going to kill me.
“I don’t think I’ll ever find someone to spend my life with. I’ll end up with the big house and a fancy car with a few dogs and that will be my lot.”
My sibling’s declaration knocks me off guard. June has never expressed an interest in dating, but the flatness to her voice implies she might be having second thoughts.
“Do you want to meet someone?” I ask.
She scoffs, falls quiet, and then scoffs again, shifting in her chair. “I like to keep things casual.”
I quirk a brow. “For the rest of your life?”
“Why not?” She shrugs. “Men are a fucking nightmare. The only decent guys I’ve found are my grandpa Jones, my dad, and you.”
“I dunno,” I drawl, picking up my bottle and taking another pull of water. “Tristan Vaughn seems like your ideal suitor.”
If looks could kill, I’d be without a pulse.
“Tell me you aren’t being serious,” she scolds.
I scratch at my chin, an overwhelming protectiveness sparking to life. I don’t like the thought of any man’s hands on my sister because, ewww, it’s my sister. But Tristan’s hands? I’d chop them off at the wrists before he could lay a finger on June.
I dismiss the thought entirely. She hates Tristan as much as I do.
“Buy the house,” I say. “Move to Seattle so we can spend more time together. And no, I can’t imagine you and Tristan together in any capacity, let alone as a romantic couple.”