The glare she shoots him is withering, but he ignores it, peeping at her computer screen. Finding it uninteresting, he answers her question. “I want to see Gretchen before she leaves.” He looks around the kitchen as if she might pop out of a cupboard. “Is she here today?”
As Margot explains Gretchen’s already gone for the day, I contemplate sneaking back to the living room. Would that be rude? Margot catches my eye before I can escape, tilting her head toward an empty chair in an unmistakable sit gesture.
Damnit.
Her movement was subtle, but Caine didn’t miss it. He grins at me, the kind of look my students get before they do something that will inevitably make my life harder. “Claire can’t sit; she has to be ready to run. Shane could be home any minute.”
Oh my god.
Margot’s eyes bug. Warmth slinks up my throat. It’s the kind of blush that no amount of deep breaths can calm. I probably look like a strawberry with a ponytail. Right as I’m trying to figure out how to respond, the faint chirp-chirp of a vehicle auto-locking sounds.
Shane’s home.
Shane
Dusty and dinged, an old white truck rests beside Margot’s car when I pull up to the house. The crooked Honk and I’ll Haunt You sticker on the back bumper mocks me as I pass. Caine beat me here. Last night he said he’d stop by to see Gretchen today, and while I know he genuinely wants to see her, I also know he wants to meet Claire.
There’s no way to know which version of Caine is inside talking to Claire. The sensitive, caring Caine, who bottle-fed a litter of orphaned kittens his freshman year of high school, or the menace to society Caine, who was suspended from school for spray-painting a zombie mural on the basketball court. I know better than to hope for the earnest, mature Caine from last night. That side comes out quarterly at most. Somehow, I am the normal brother, and there’s a woman living in my house so I can hunt her. While I may not have run Claire off yet, that doesn’t mean Caine won’t be too much.
Plus, this close to the end of Claire’s contract, I’d rather be spending my time with her. I may have shared some—possibly too much—information with Caine while drinking, but there’s no way I’m hunting her with him here. That’s a step too weird.
He’s going to traumatize her.
Tensions are high in the kitchen when I walk in. A blushing, uncomfortable-looking Claire, a smirking Caine, and an annoyed Margot.
“Hello.” I side-eye Caine. “How’s everybody?”
A general question, but my attention is on Claire. Somehow, she reddens further but gives me a tight smile.
“Look who’s home.” Caine moves as if coming in for a hug, then wraps his arms around me, pinning mine to my sides, far too tight to be an embrace.
“What are you—”
“I’ve got him. Run, run fast,” he tells Claire.
Bastard.
She flushes deeper, if that is even possible. Driving an elbow into his side makes him grunt and loosen his grip. Shoving his arms away, I glare at him. “Don’t be a fucking jackass.”
“I’m not,” he protests. “I’m trying to help her. Two against one is better odds.”
Claire laughs but still looks shy.
“This is not a multiplayer game.” Each word is clipped, and I hope my stare conveys what I’m not saying verbally.
Shut the fuck up.
“I would hope not.” He scoffs. “Because there’s kink, and then there’s incest.”
“Will you—”
“Caine, had Shane finished building the firepit the last time you were here?” Margot interrupts.
He’s more than happy to pay attention to her. “No, he’d only marked it out with string two dozen times.” Glancing back at me, he adds, “I think he had at least another ten times to go.”
“Nine.” My retort makes Claire laugh, an actual laugh. The sound loosens something in my chest, making more room for air in my lungs.
“Come on, I’ll show you.” Margot stands and marches out of the room without looking back.
“Yes, ma’am,” Caine says, but she’s already gone. He hurries after her. I hear him asking some inane question and her sharp retort.
Bless her.
It’s just Claire and me. Loosening my tie, I step toward her. She seems fine now, but she looked miserable before. “Sorry. He’s a lot.”
Brown ponytail swishing, she shakes her head. “It’s fine. I was just caught off guard that he knew about our ‘arrangement.’ I thought only Gretchen and Margot knew. Well, and Sydney.”
Shit.
“I shouldn’t have told him without asking you.” The realization hits me as I speak. I’d been so focused on sorting myself out that I didn’t think about how Claire might feel about me telling Caine.
“It’s not a big deal. I know people talk about their sexual escapades and all that.” Her chuckle is soft, almost glum, making me feel small enough to climb into her coffee cup. “I should be used to it. Keith told everybody everything.” Exhaling hard, she shrugs and gives me a half smile. “But you know that; that’s how I’m here. Maybe I’m weirdly private or something. It’s fine.”
Fuck.
The last person on Earth I want her to associate me with is Keith. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I wasn’t talking to Caine to brag about the sex but because I’m trying to figure out what’s happening in my head. Why the end of the month nags at the back of my brain, a ghost haunting every happy moment. Why I’m worried I can’t make the transition from contract to relationship. But I don’t trust myself to say it right and not make this worse.
“You’re not weirdly private. For what it’s worth, I didn’t share details, only the existence of our arrangement. But I shouldn’t have even done that without your permission.” After a beat, I add again, “I really am sorry. If I’d known it would make you uncomfortable at all, I wouldn’t have said a word.”
Crinkling the corners of her eyes, this smile is real. It’s the final turn that releases the vise clamped on my rib cage. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”
“Of course.” I move beside her, mirroring the way she leans on the counter. “So now you’ve met my brother.”
“Yes.” She laughs. “I have.”
“Unfortunately, he’s the second best behaved out of us.”
“And you’re the best behaved,” Claire teases.
“Right.” My sigh makes her giggle again. She’s ridiculously cute. “Our little sister is a terror. If Delaney had been the firstborn, Caine and I wouldn’t have survived to adulthood.”
“That’s an awful way to talk about your sister.” Claire sounds like she’s holding back a laugh.
“You say that, but…” I fake a shudder.
“Where’s she at? And what does she do?” Claire arches an eyebrow. “Make fur coats out of puppies?”
“You won’t believe me.”
Claire waits.
“She’s in Montana. She’s a biologist, studies and tracks the grizzly bear population out there. Lives in a cabin by herself most of the year.”
Shifting to sit on top of the counter, Claire drums her heels against the cabinet door. “That’s awesome. Would she be mad you punched a bear?”
My laugh is sheepish. “She’d be more pissed that I had us out there without bear spray.” It’s the truth, and a reminder of another way I’ve let Claire down, even if she doesn’t realize it.
“Bet she deals with a lot of ticks.” Swinging her leg sideways, she gently kicks my calf. Claire touching me first is a new experience. The playfulness of the act sends a lightning bolt of excitement straight to my cock.
Not now.
Subtly adjusting myself, I chuckle, trying not to make it obvious I’m getting turned on by her platonic touch.
“Caine said he came to see Gretchen?”
Looks like I’m sharing more Underwood family lore with Claire. “Yeah, she’s moving to New York next month to live with her daughter.”
How much do I want to tell Claire?
