13. Aubrey
Warm fuzzies lingered in my thoughts in the morning. For a day with so many ups and downs, yesterday’s ups were pretty freaking incredible.
I didn’t know how I felt about Brodie and Clint going all caveman, though. On the one hand, it did a woman’s ego good that they went head-to-head over me. It was a little hard to believe, but I’d been there, so I had to trust my own eyes.
I headed into my kitchen to start the coffee brewing while I got ready for today. The guest room door was open for the first time in the morning since Sylvie had arrived.
Despite the fact that she spent the night in whatever hotel room Grandma got for her, making whatever wedding plans were next on the list, Sylvie would be working this morning. There was no way my dedicated, driven sister was going to take a day off.
This part of my morning routine was automatic. Grab the jar with beans, and scoop out enough to grind. Once they were the right coarseness, into the filter they went, I poured water in the reservoir, and the coffee was brewing. I was running low on beans, which I got from Sebastian. Sure, he sold tea, but he had a great local source for fresh coffee, so a lot of us bought from him.
He usually delivered, but hadn’t been by in a while. Probably because Sylvie was here. I’d have to stop by his shop later and refill my stash.
My phone chimed, and I pulled up the new text.
Clint: Dinner?
Me: Tonight? I’m in.
The exchange was basic. Not new for us. But today it sent butterflies flitting through me. I shouldn’t get worked up over it, because I didn’t need either him or Brodie thinking I belonged to them. Yeah, the sex was good—understatement of the century—but I wasn’t with them.
Brodie seemed intent on changing that, and the kinky side I saw of Clint last night? How did I not know that was there?
Because that wasn’t the kind of friendship we had.
Someone knocked on my front door. Did Sylvie forget her keys? Seemed unlikely.
It was probably Aubrey or Evie. No one else came by this time of the morning, which meant it didn’t matter that I was only wearing sleep shorts and a baggy T-shirt.
I opened the front door to a man I didn’t recognize. He might be cute, but that thin mustache with no beard, and the T-shirt with a silhouette of a naked woman on it made him look like kind of a douche.
Wariness flitted through me when he raked his gaze over me, lingering on my chest.
I resisted the urge to wrap my arms around myself and withdraw, as a thread of defiance insisted I wouldn’t show this person any weakness. “Can I help you?”
“Looking for Sylvie.”
So he wasn’t a boyfriend I’d forgotten I didn’t have. There was no way I was telling some random dude that I had any idea who he was talking about. “There’s no Sylvie here. Who are you?”
He pushed past me, shoving me aside with his shoulder as he strolled into my apartment. “Sylvie,” he called.
“Whoa. What the fuck?” Could I take him if I had to? “Get the hell out of my apartment.”
“Sylvie,” he shouted again,
What was this bullshit? Fury and panic surged inside me, blending into a disgusting nausea. Why did I put my phone down in the kitchen before I answered the door? I tucked my fear aside and let the anger slip out. “I don’t know who you are, but get out of my house, or I will call the police.”
He whirled in my direction. “Listen, Bitch”—
Brodie was there, stepping between us.
I had no idea where he’d come from, but I was grateful for it.
And Sebastian was here too? He approached the stranger. “You were asked to leave.” His voice was hard and his posture assertive.
After Sebastian lost his company, he’d been an EMT for a while. He had a number of stories about negotiating with drunk, high, or violent people on his calls. That experience showed now in his stance.
“I’m just looking for Sylvie.” The stranger didn’t back down.
“There’s no Sylvie here.” Sebastian’s voice was tight. He locked his hand around the man’s upper arm. “You need to leave.”
“Peter.” That was Sylvie.
Where did all these people come from?
My sister marched into the middle of the fray and smacked Sebastian on the wrist. “Sebastian. Let go of my fiancé.” Her expression shifted toward reserved, as if she’d just registered what she said. She frowned and stepped away, nudging Peter aside at the same time.
“Fiancé?” Sebastian asked at the same time I did.
“Got a surplus of those,” Brodie muttered quietly enough I doubted anyone but me heard.
Peter spun Sylvie to face him, and cupped her face between his hands. “I was looking for you, Lover.” He kissed her hard, but pulled away so quickly her head jerked. “These assholes assaulted me.”
Excuse him what? “He forced his way in here, without telling me who he was, and demanded to see you.” I wasn’t the one who had acted unreasonably.
“It was a misunderstanding.” Peter kept his gaze on Sylvie. “Who else would come looking for you?”
Sylvie glanced over her shoulder at me. “Yeah. Who else would he be, Aubrey?”
“An asshole?” Brodie asked.
Peter clenched his fist.
Sebastian shook his head. “You both good?” He was looking at me, but I knew he was asking about Sylvie as well. He’d never admit it, but I had a feeling.
“We’re good.” Part of me protested the response, but my sister was smart. She knew what she was doing. It must have been a misunderstanding.
Except that it wasn’t.
Sebastian handed me a medium sized paper bag with his shop’s stamp on it—my coffee—and walked out without giving Sylvie another look.
“Thank you,” I called after him, meaning the gratitude for both the coffee and the save.
He waved over his shoulder, and headed down the stairs.
Sylvie huffed, and turned to face us again. “Aubrey, Brodie, this is my one and only forever true love, Peter.”
“Hey.” He squeezed her ass, and she squeaked.
Sylvie hated public displays of affection. Then again, she was in love now…
I was working to be kind. If this was who Sylvie loved, there was a reason. Regardless of starting off on the wrong foot with him. “Welcome to Haddarville.”
“Not feeling super welcome.” Peter’s voice was flat.
“Really?” Brodie sounded surprised. “I didn’t have a problem when I got here.”
I might ask him to tone down the interactions with Peter going forward. But I probably wouldn’t.
Sylvie was focused on Peter again. She was going to make herself dizzy with all the spinning. “I didn’t know you were coming into town so soon.”
“I wanted to surprise you.” He kissed her again. “Make sure you weren’t hooking up with any old flames.”
That was the kind of thing that should be said with teasing.
He sounded quite serious.
“Absolutely not.” Sylvie laughed.
“Sebastian. You used to be with him, right?” Peter asked.
Sylvie shrugged. “Used to. He was bringing something to my sister. You saw that.”
I didn’t like this, no matter how much I tried to tell myself I wasn’t seeing everything Sylvie did. “Are you staying in town, Peter?” I wanted him to go. I wanted to get dressed and forget how it felt to have him staring at me. I wanted to forget he’d ever been here.
“I was going to stay at the motel down the street, until I saw the place.” There was a sneer in his voice. “Sylvie and I will be staying in Salt Lake.”
“I need to be here, so Aubrey can help me plan for the wedding.”
“Aubrey can meet you downtown,” Peter said.
Brodie coughed loudly. “Aubrey has work to do.”
As much as I appreciated him stepping in, “Aubrey can speak for herself,” I said. “I’m not driving to Salt Lake every day for wedding plans. That’s more than an hour each way.”
Peter nuzzled Sylvie’s neck. “I thought you said your sister was sweet.” His voice was a stage whisper.
“She is. We’ll figure it out. Buy me breakfast?” Sylvie tugged Peter toward the door.
“Do you have today off, Sylvie?” I didn’t know why I asked. It might be the part of me that needed any subtle way I could find to remind this irritating man that my sister was her own woman.
Peter gave me a withering look. “From wedding planning? She just told you we’d figure it out.”
Sylvie paled, though.
“From her job. Senior Vice President. That prestigious thing that she dedicated a portion of her adult life to?”
“She quit her job.” Peter’s words landed hard.
She what? I stared at Sylvie, who tugged Peter toward the doorway with more insistence.
“My wife doesn’t need to work.” Peter didn’t budge.
I stared harder at Sylvie, who was doing an incredible job of avoiding my gaze.
“I’m starved, Lover.” Her tone was sweet. Submissive.
What. The. Fuck?
“Breakfast it is.” Peter finally let Sylvie pull him from my apartment.
I continued to stare in disbelief at the open door, even after they were out of sight. I had too many thoughts to focus on any single one.
“Umm…” Brodie’s voice rammed its way into my thoughts and splintered the clusterfuck growing in my mind.
Easy questions first. “Why were you and Sebastian here?”
“I ran into him on my way over. Mentioned Sylvie wasn’t here right now, and he said he had a delivery to drop off. He’s trying to avoid her.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” It was the only thing about this morning that did. My sister was marrying a possessive douche and had quit her job? The lucrative career that she’d discarded so much else to have?
I shouldn’t be ignoring Brodie, but there were other mental priorities. I grabbed my phone from the kitchen and sent my sister a text.
Me: You’re not getting out of this so easily. We’re going to talk the instant you’re free.
Sylvie: Okay.
Not the answer I wanted, but it would do for now.
“A lesser person would be figuring out how to work this into a conversation with Grandma.” Brodie’s voice was kind.
I couldn’t do that, as much as the idea had a certain appeal. “This isn’t a competition with my sister.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No. Grandma dislikes me regardless of what Sylvie does.” I sighed, and tried to sort my thoughts into something functional. I wasn’t going to get answers from Sylvie yet, as much as I wanted them. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see you, and awesome timing by the way, but you still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
Brodie held up a paper bag from Kingu Kafe. “I brought you breakfast, and wanted to ask you at the same time if you were free for dinner tonight.”
Was I? I frowned.
“Not the reaction I expected,” Brodie said.
“I already have plans with Clint.” Which I was sure Brodie would misinterpret.
“He invited himself on our date last night.” There was no malice in Brodie’s voice.
That wasn’t… Was it? Maybe it was. “This isn’t a date.”
“Does Clint know that?”
Why wouldn’t he? “We hang out a lot at night. Dee will probably be there. It’s not a big deal.”
“Want a fourth?” Brodie asked.
Sure. That answer was easy. I didn’t want either man thinking I was dating them. But I wouldn’t tell Evie or Alys yes in a case like this, without checking with the person who made the plans, first. “It’s Clint’s invite, ask Clint.”
Brodie handed me the food he’d brought. “See you tonight. If that asshole comes back, scream as loud as you can, and I’ll be here.”
“That asshole is my sister’s fiancé.” The reminder was for me as much as for him.
“I said what I said.”
“Thank you.” This was so fucked up. What was going on with my sister?