Chapter 2
?
Of course I’m planning to commit arson with my future brother-in-law.
Alister
I knew that August Winslow was crazy. If I’m perfectly honest, that’s part of her charm. Her bold, unfiltered confidence is what attracted me to her as a person, back before I even knew she was a woman, but seeing her for the first time in the flesh?
No number of back-and-forth emails could have prepared me for how violently the sight of her seized my heart.
Petite, messy-bunned, freckled.
She was a vision.
And I am more determined than ever to be whatever she wants me to be.
Hence, why I’m here. Sitting sandwiched between Leeann and Lynn on a couch in a rustic cabin, across from the narrowed brown eyes of her brother, Wynnter.
Obscenely large, the man clearly robbed the genepool of all height and girth prior to his baby sister’s conception, and I do wonder if it’d be appropriate to thank him for that.
But, maybe for the moment, I should just stay quiet and let the women on either side of me finish their explanation of the situation.
While they ramble, Wynnter’s disgruntled attitude wafts into the room, coarse as sandpaper, rife with unfettered judgment.
It weighs in the air all the way up until his grandmother declares, “And that’s why we need you to volunteer your home for a little while, just until we can figure out how to get Alister and August together. ”
At some point, Wynnter’s eyes became barely perceptible slits. Unlatching his freckled fingers from his knees, he rolls his monumental shoulders back, and glares. At me. “You’re…in love with my sister?”
“Yep.”
He cuts those speckled fingers of his through his dark hair, rustling the strands. “And you can’t just…tell her that?”
“Unfortunately,” I say, planting a pitying hand against my chest, “I am not blond, so a mere declaration of affection probably wouldn’t work.”
Wynnter’s glare settles on the pale strands of hair presently perched atop my head.
“This is a wig,” I inform him.
“A wig.”
“Yes.”
“You’re wearing a wig to convince my sister that you’re blond.”
“Yes.” Perfectly normal behavior, if I do say so myself.
Humor contorts Wynnter’s face until it’s not exactly a smile I’m looking at, is it? No, I don’t think so. It’s something else. Something only vaguely amused. “Why the—” He swears. “—does August want to be with a blond guy?”
I say, “She’s fascinated by the princely anime archetype. And, unfortunately, many of those characters are blond.”
Wynnter swears again. “—cartoons.” Hefting a sigh, he shakes his head. “You’re Mrs. Beth’s grandson?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Huh.” He tosses his arm over the couch cushions, glancing sidelong at the dormant wood fireplace sitting at the height of this living room. “You know my sister’s basically insane, right?”
I smile. “That is, perhaps, my favorite part.”
Leeann ruthlessly pokes me in the cheek. “You should have seen him blushing when she threatened to murder him, Wynn. It was adorable.”
My face heats at the memory alone, because it was adorable.
More specifically, she was adorable. “She was just…quite suddenly…very close.” And she’s too cute for words.
And I’ve thus far been surviving purely off staring at her public Leopard profile picture.
No camera could hope to capture all the many, many constellations scattered across her nose and cheeks.
She’s more freckle than skin, and—yet—each is distinct, an entity of its very own.
My hand grips the clothing over my heart while the hammering in my chest refuses to subside.
Wynnter mutters, “Explain to me again why you can’t talk to her? It’s a revolutionary concept, I know, but you might just learn it’s effective.”
“Wynnter Gray,” Leeann chides, “you know your sister wouldn’t stand for such a thing.”
“She wouldn’t stand for clear, mature, adult communication?” His dark brows ascend. “You’re right. What am I thinking? Only elaborate schemes, which involve renting U-Hauls and wearing blond wigs, will ever work.”
“I’ve been trying for years to set you two up in happy relationships. If clear, mature, adult communication worked, I’d be a great grandmother by now. Am I?” Leeann’s hands launch into the air. “No!”
“My condolences,” Wynnter grunts.
Leeann’s eyes narrow so sharply I get chills. “Don’t you want your sister to be happy?”
“She seems pretty happy to me.”
“No, she doesn’t. She is sad. And lonely.”
“Ah. My mistake then.”
I get the feeling that Wynnter has dealt with his grandmother a little too much in his lifetime.
Maybe all the Winslows are crazy, and wouldn’t that be wonderful?
What an endearing family to marry into. “If I may,” I begin, “I don’t absolutely need to stay here.
I have other accommodations available with my grandparents, but if you wouldn’t mind playing along and pretending that I am staying here, I’d appreciate that. ”
“You’re welcome to stay,” Wynnter notes. “In fact, I think we should give it a few days, then tell August that your bed caught on fire.”
My head…tilts.
He proceeds, relentless, “You’re too tall for my couches. She’s got a pull-out sofa. One day of her seeing you curled up in a ball and trying to sleep on these things, and she’ll take you in with my confirmation that you’re a decent guy.”
“You’re…sure that’s how things would play out?” I ask.
A near-wicked gleam cuts through Wynnter’s brown eyes. “Yep. At that point, you’ll be too interesting to let slip away. If I know my sister, she’s already invested.”
My heart pitters.
“That’s why she called me.”
My heart patters.
“This disaster you’ve fabricated has already piqued her interest. You’ve garbed yourself in a story, Alister.
And she’s nothing if not feral in her curiosity.
” His eyes roll. “Don’t get me wrong. I think all of you are idiots, but…
” He stands, offering me his hand as his attention skates across my blond wig.
“It’s clear you’ll do what it takes to meet her crazy where it is.
If you want my opinion, it’s probably prudent to learn whether or not we can stand each other…
assuming we might become brothers someday. ”
Heart floating, I rise and clasp his hand. “To our glorious siblinghood.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And to the arson that will get us there.”
His lips quirk as his grip tightens. “Well. Yeah. I guess so. But don’t push it.”