Page 116 of Ransom

"We're part of Ransom's family," the shorter one blurts out. That answers that question. "I'm Janey, and this is Becca. We just wanted to meet you properly, without all the chaos from this morning."

"The boys can be a bit... overwhelming," Becca adds. "When they get together in a situation like this, they get a little high school."

"What does that mean?"

"They start doing stupid shit teenage boys do. Like daring each other to snort breath mints up their noses or touching electric fences," Becca explains.

Janey grips Becca's arm, but her wide eyes are on me. "Are there electric fences around here?"

The panic on her face makes me want to laugh. I recognize that kind of panic. It comes from experience. What the fuck do those guys get up to? I half believed Ransom's stories were exaggerated, but maybe every word was true. "Yeah, all over. Closest one is about a mile out."

She turns to Becca, still clinging to her arm. "Would they get that far? They need a chaperone."

Becca pats her hand. "Don't worry. I'm sure there are signs that tell them not to touch. Jonas will be fine."

Janey snorts. "I know that. It was Kade I was worried about. You know Jonas is going to get him to touch that fence."

Becca grins, a little giggle escaping. "Oh god. I hope so." Then she pouts just a little. "And I'm going to miss it." Then those eyes turn on me, calculating. "Oh well. We've got business here."

These two are a dangerous combo. The smaller one, Janey, is all sweet and can suck you into thinking she's harmless. And the bigger one is a little crazy. Even if Ransom hadn't mentioned it, her eyes give it away. "Business, huh?"

"Yep. We're here to check you out and put in a good word for Ransom."

Janey nods emphatically. "Ransom is the best. Loves his family, so patient, incredibly supportive and caring. He's a total catch."

Play nice, Blair. I know who Ransom is. At least I did. And something about these women talking about him like they know him rubs me the wrong way. It's illogical. I know that. But I still feel it. So I try to keep my voice calm.

"I can see that. Everyone seems very…” What’s a nice way of saying 'all over the fucking place'?

"Codependent?" Becca says happily.

"Yeah, something like that." ‘Shit disturbers’ would work too.

"They're codependent as fuck. But in a healthy way. They like each other. They admire each other. It leads to some pretty fun moments."

"You should see them at Christmas. We convinced them to wear matching pajamas," Janey says. "Though honestly, it didn't take much convincing. Last Christmas a few of them had onesies. This Christmas, it turned into a whole thing."

"Matching onesies?" I can't picture it, and yet I can. What would it be like to have a Christmas like that? Rooms filled with people you love? I have a little family here, and the neighbors are a part of that. But it was still quiet. Calm. Nothing like Ransom's was, I'm sure. "Please tell me there are pictures."

"So many pictures," Janey says, pulling out her phone. "Want to see?"

I glance at the clock on the wall. Ransom said an hour, and Matt doesn't really need my help anyway. "You know what? I think I do. Matt, I'm heading out. Do some work."

"Fuck off," he yells cheerily, making me laugh.

I guide them to the wooden bench outside the garage, where the morning sun warms the weathered planks.

"Ransom mentioned you, Becca. Said you like to give him hell."

Becca's face lights up. "Aw. He loves me so much. I tried to make him hold my hand last week, and he told me he'd rather dangle his balls in a bowl full of piranhas." She looks so damnpleased that I laugh. I can almost picture his face as he stared down at her. That brow arched so high, looking all kinds of imperious.

But he probably had to fight back a smile too. I get it. She's really in your face, but not in a mean way. I know people like her. If she's giving you shit, you're part of her circle. If she's polite or outright ignores you, then you know you're on the outside.

The smaller one, Janey? I haven't quite figured her out. She's a calculating little thing. Better to tackle that one head-on.

"He didn't get a chance to tell me about you, though," I say to Janey.

"Oh, I'm Jonas's wife. I run HR at Brash." Janey settles more comfortably on the bench, smoothing her long, light blue skirt over her knees. "Jonas and I had an interesting start. We actually got married before we fell in love."

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