Page 29 of Riding the Pine

His protective nature is heartwarming.

Athena: Thanks, but I don’t think I need a hockey playing heavy to scare the shit out of the kid.

Gizmo: Kid?

Athena: He looks maybe my age? I’m not sure.

Gizmo: Okay. Mum’s the word until we know more, but if you need anything, you call me, okay?

After another long silence hanging between us, he clears his throat. “Okay?”

I nod, nibbling on my bottom lip. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

He catches my eye. “You’re not alone in this, Athena.”

The way he says my name sends a delicious shiver slithering up my spine. As much as I love “Bright Eyes” as a pet name, when he does say my name, it always sounds like a prayer from his lips.

A few well-placed messages to one of my brother’s “investigative specialist” friends, under threat of his dismemberment if he breaches client confidentiality and squeals to my brothers later, and now, all I can do is wait.

And finish watching Maverick.

A few minutes later, the boys join us from the kitchen. As they all find space in the den, Scott lifts his leg and lets one rip. I don’t get a chance to react because Ares follows suit and pretty soon, all four boys are trying to out-do each other with farts and burps.

Fuck my life, I’m surrounded by children.

Scott farts again, this time looking straight at me while he does. “You not joining in, Bright Eyes?” His eyes dance with amusement and levity. Truth be told, it’s probably just what Ineed in this moment to distract me from staring at my phone waiting for an answer about where to find my half-brother.

I roll my eyes; a smile playing on my lips and slap his foot. “You’re a disgusting pig, you know that, right?” When I lean forward to reach for another red vine, I give him what he asked for and join the cacophony of gas echoing around the room.

I can’t say farting in front of the guy I’ve had a crush on since I met him is on my bucket list, but the joy on his face at me having added to the stink funking up the room was definitely worth it.

He scrunches up his lips, nodding his head. “Nice. I’d say a solid five out of ten.”

I gasp, clutching my hand to my chest. “That was at least a seven, Gizmo.”

He shakes his head right at the same moment Ares drowns out all noise with a fart that never ends.

Scott hooks his thumb toward my youngest brother. “That’s at least seven, Bright Eyes.”

There’s still no word from my PI contact by the end of the movie. Nor by the end of the next movie, either. I’d rather not be in my apartment with Savannah when I get the word of my dirty-little-secret of a half sibling, but I also need to be patient about people doing their job, too.

It’s the next morning over breakfast after a restless night before I get a reply, but it’s positive. My contact has found both the address of Gloria, and Mathias. Doesn’t hurt that I pay him three times his going amount to do what I need him to. It’s worth every penny to get the fast pass to the information I need.

It takes me a split second to decide to try the son first.

It’s a Saturday morning, most college aged kids are at home in their beds or working their weekend jobs, but it’s worth the chance.

Or at least it was until I found myself sitting outside his house, my leg bouncing in the footwell of the car. My stomach is flooded with unpredictable nerves, like raw, live wires bouncing and snapping toward each other in my gut, ready to ignite at any given moment.

I force myself out of the vehicle into the fresh air, compelling myself to breathe deeply but it doesn’t help the tightness at the base of my skull, or the throbbing in my temples.

Stepping up to his front door, I swallow the lump in my throat. Hesitating, I glance back at the car. There’s still time to flee the scene, no one has to know I was even here.

I inch toward the edge of the step I’m standing on, back to Mathias’s door as I debate bolting down the three steps and back to the safety and ignorance of my car. Except the door cracks open behind me, and now I’m no longer alone.

“Can I help you?”

I turn to face the male voice behind me, and his features slam into my chest like a freight train, stealing my breath from my body.

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