Chapter 4
Chapter Four
GRACIE
Considering all my worldly possessions, except one measly duffle bag, are still packed in the trunk of my car, moving should be a cinch.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Owen slides up next to me as I place a few more articles of clothing into the worn-in bag. "No one said you had to move out."
I turn my head and give my big brother a patronizing smile.
"I'm not doing this for anyone but me. I love you and Annalee.
Really I do. She's the best thing to happen to you.
But if I don't move out now, I'm going to strangle the two of you in your sleep.
Probably with one of my annoying shirts, as you like to call them. "
I'm currently folding one of those “annoying” shirts. This one reads Pound my cake, Daddy. I snicker at the implications considering I'm currently simping on a certain father of three. A completely inappropriate thought now that he's about to be my landlord.
Owen groans. "Do you really wear that one in public?"
My snicker turns into full-on giggles. If he only knew the looks I get from men when I wear it. And I don't care one bit. They can look all they want. None of them are getting my attention unless I want them to have it.
"Of course I do. Maybe I should get Annalee a matching one. We could wear them together and have a bonding experience."
"What are you getting me?" Of course Annalee chooses that moment to join us.
"Don't even fucking think about it." He points at me and then turns around to Annalee with a wince. "Nothing. She's not buying you anything."
I point down to the shirt on the bed and mouth to her, "This."
Annalee chuckles with me. "I happen to think your sister has excellent taste in clothing."
My brother once again groans and I can't help but laugh out loud.
I know for a fact Annalee wouldn't be caught dead in one of my shirts.
It isn't that she doesn't like them, just not on her.
She's not nearly as expressive as I am. She much prefers subtle patterns and muted colors, whereas I wouldn't be caught dead in something like that.
"It's settled. I'll order you one from my favorite site. It should be here in a few days." I continue the ruse and tease my brother because what else are little sisters for if not to torture their older counterparts.
"Absolutely not," Owen growls. "There will be no ordering shirts like that."
Then, like the lovesick fool he is, my brother turns to Annalee and begs, "Please don't let her buy you stuff like that. I'll buy you anything else you want, but not that."
“Anything I want?” Owen nods his head eagerly. “Well, I have been looking at this fuzzy set of pink dice to hang on the rearview mirror of our vehicle since you insist we only need one car.”
Owen looks horrified at the thought of driving around town with fuzzy dice in his SUV.
Annalee doubles over with laughter and I have to join her. The look on my brother’s face is worth the retribution he's going to dish out for what we've done.
"Gracie and I are just teasing you," Annalee tells him when she gets her laughter under control. "She knows I would never wear something like that. She just loves to rile you up."
Owen glares at me. "I'm going to get you back for that."
Absolutely worth it.
"I'm sure you will, but it was worth it to see the look on your face and the way you begged Annalee. Come on, big brother, where is your pride?"
"I'll show you pride."
Before I realize his intent, I'm picked up and tossed on the bed while he attacks my feet with tickles.
He knows how much I hate anyone touching my feet, so it doesn't take long for me to be a wiggling, squealing mess as I scream uncle at the top of my lungs.
But does he stop? Nope. He continues to torture me as I thrash and kick out at him.
I get one solid kick in before his arms wrap around my legs and pin my arms to my side like a snake going in for the kill.
He tightens his hold until the only thing I can move is my ass and wiggle my upper body.
My abs tighten with the effort it takes to sit up and glare at him.
"Tell me you're sorry," Owen taunts. "Tell me you won't buy Annalee any of your inappropriate shirts and I'll let you go."
"I won't buy her any of my shirts." The plea falls from my lips within seconds. I'll say anything to get him away from my feet, and he knows it.
"And . . ." He contorts his arm back so his hand is brushing along my bare foot. Damn the heat and my need to avoid socks.
"And I'm sorry." As soon as the words leave my mouth, Owen releases me and stands up from the bed with a victorious smile on his face.
"Glad you see it my way."
I kick out at him just for spite. "You're a jerk, you know that?"
"Yes, but you love this jerk. Otherwise you wouldn't have moved all this way to be closer to me."
If he only knew.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. And you wonder why I want my own place. First the noisy sex, and now the tickling."
Owen's face falls and the faintest hint of a blush tinges his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel unwanted."
I shove his shoulder. "I'm kidding. The plan was always for me to get my own place. I love you, but I don't actually want to live with you. Even if you were single. Could you imagine how weird that would be if I tried to bring a guy home."
I dance out of the room with laughter falling from my lips when he tries to snatch me up. Annalee helps by grabbing his arm, but we all know if my brother wanted to get away, he could. Annalee joins me in laughing as Owen curses the two of us. I doubt he expected us to get along so well.
I check the rest of the house to make sure I haven't left anything lying around. I know I'll always be welcome in my brother's home, but I need to prove to him this move is a good idea. Sometimes he still sees me as the baby our mother brought home while he was deployed.
When I'm sure there's nothing of mine left, I head back to the guest room and find my brother and Annalee whispering.
"Not interrupting, am I?"
Annalee jumps back, her face bright red, like whatever they were discussing is the most scandalous thing of the season.
My brother, on the other hand, looks worried, which doesn't bode well for me.
"What's that look for?"
"I'm just not sure how I feel about you moving in with a guy you barely know."
I throw my hands in the air in frustration. "Are you kidding me right now?" I glance at my nonexistent watch on my wrist. "I'm supposed to be there in ten minutes, and you choose now to air your objections?"
"I mean . . ." My brother scratches the back of his head and at least has the decency to look ashamed. "You should've known I would have concerns based on my line of work."
"Of course I knew you would have concerns," I screech. "I also figured you or one of your friends would've dug into his background already."
"Of course," he scoffs. "I had Nolen do it."
I freeze, then mentally slap myself upside the head, because of course he asked Nolen.
Out of all his friends, it had to be the one person I didn't want digging too close to my life.
Nolen and my family have history. More specifically with my sister, and the last thing I need is for him to know all my secrets.
"And what did he discover?" I ask with caution.
"The guy’s clean. A few speeding tickets over the years, but nothing since having kids. His business is on the up-and-up, and from what I can tell, he's a great father and son."
"Perfect." I trudge across the room and scoop up my duffle bag. "Glad we got that cleared up. Now excuse me. I prefer not to be late."
I give Annalee a quick side hug, throw my brother the peace symbol, and walk out of the guest bedroom without glancing back. No amount of love for the two of them could keep me in that house another minute longer.
Throwing my bag into the backseat, I hop into my car and try not to pay attention to the fact that my brother is still wearing the concerned expression as I back out of the driveway.
Eventually, he's going to learn I'm no longer his baby sister.
I've grown up. And while I've made a few mistakes, I'm actively trying to fix them.
On my own.
It doesn't take me more than a few minutes to reach Ang's house, and I pull into the driveway next to his SUV.
I texted him earlier in the day to let him know what time I would be over.
There was nothing illicit about the conversation we had.
It was mostly Ang going over the details he forgot to tell me yesterday, like where I could park.
And yet, I found myself getting excited each time his name popped up on my notifications.
I don't know how I should feel about that.
Yes, you do!
Okay, I should feel bad that I'm lusting over my new landlord.
Do I, though?
Nope, not even a little bit. Because when life throws you eye candy, you damn well get your fill.
Oh, speaking of my fill. There he is, like a true gentleman, standing on the porch waiting for me.
I get out of my vehicle with a smile on my face. "You didn't have to wait up for me."
Ang's hands are stuffed in his jeans pockets as he rests his left shoulder against the interior of the doorframe. "I figured you would need help bringing stuff in."
I pop the trunk with a smirk. "I actually don't have that much. One trip between the two of us and I'll be good to go."
I'm not ashamed to admit I watch Ang walk toward me. His short-sleeved shirt wraps tight around his biceps. I wait until he grabs two of the suitcases just so I can see his arms flex from the weight. It's obvious he's earned the muscles through hard work and plenty of hammering.
I snicker at my own joke.
Hammering.
Carpenter.
I crack myself up.
"What's so funny?"
I didn't realize how much time passed while I was busy laughing at myself. Ang is already back to grab the last suitcase.
"Just thinking of a new shirt idea," I blurt out before I can think better of it.
It isn't a bad idea, actually. I'm sure I could find something on one of the websites. I need to remember to look tomorrow.
Ang doesn't say anything as I follow him into my new apartment with my bag tossed over my shoulder. I don't take it personally. Not everyone shares my excitement over my wardrobe.
I check out his ass when he bends over to place the last suitcase next to the others. I never understood why women got all googly-eyed over a man's ass. I've always thought men's jeans were unflattering. That is until I saw Ang in his. It's as if they’re custom-made for his body.
I'm doing a poor job of hiding my ogling when he stands up and turns to look at me. The smirk on his face is a clear indication he knows where my mind is at. When he walks over to me and glances down at my shirt, I start to hyperventilate. This feels like a monumental moment.
"I'm curious to find out just how accurate that shirt is."
With that cliffhanger of a statement, Ang leaves me with my mouth hanging open like a guppy fish, wondering what the hell just happened between us.