Page 24 of The Hermit on the Hill

There were a bunch of dishes drying next to the sink. And a note on the counter that said,I knocked, but you didn't answer. You need to be more careful about locking your door before you go to bed. — Sam

I opened my fridge to find it stocked full of food. Mostly vegetables. There were several containers labeled stir-fry. I pulled one out. It was still warm, and I popped the lid to discover it smelled just as good as my kitchen did.

CHAPTER SIX

Sam

Someone was in my house, and they were laughing. More than one person I estimated as I stood on the porch and debated going inside.

Yep, there was my sister Brittany's unmistakable voice. I turned on my heel and started for my shed. Working on the '68 Corvette I'd been restoring for the past six months seemed better than facing my sister at the moment.

"Get back here." Brittany's blond hair was a messy halo, illuminated by the light from the hallway as she stood in the open doorway. "We heard your truck pull in. You ever going to get the muffler fixed?"

"I am now." I hadn't fixed it sooner because I enjoyed driving through Catalpa Creek and annoying all the townsfolk. It went well with my grumpy hermit persona. "I've got some work to do in the garage." I took two steps farther into the darkness.

"I haven't seen you for two months. Marcus and Damian are here."

"Not in the mood for company."

"I made key lime pie."

I grunted, but stayed in place. My sister's key lime pie was good enough to make angels weep, but I wasn't sure it was good enough for me to sit through conversation with those three optimists.

Jenna should be with me. She should be in my house unpacking and tucking herself up in one of my guest beds, so I could make sure she ate a decent breakfast in the morning and took her prenatal vitamins. She was way too laid back about the pregnancy, and I'd been with my grandmother to enough births as a kid to understand that growing a healthy baby and carrying it to term required constant vigilance and care.

"I took a detour to that little town in Germany that makes that honey beer you like so much. If you don't come in, Marcus will drink it all."

"You gave it to Marcus?" I stomped up the stairs and followed her into the house. "That's my beer."

Her laughter, like wind chimes in a fairy village, floated over her shoulder. I'd never understood how she and I could be so different when we'd had the same upbringing - raised by our Nana Rosie. Brittany was the most carefree, sociable person I knew. She never stayed in any one place longer than a few weeks, but she seemed happy enough.

At the entrance to the kitchen, she linked her arm through mine and led me to a seat at the table. Marcus and Damian greeted me with warm smiles, and I frowned at their happiness. I bet Damian never would have refused if Marcus asked him to move in.

Brittany placed a plate of pie and a bottle of honey beer in front of me before she sprang her trap. She sat, elbows on the table, chin in her hand, blue eyes sparkling. "So, what's the story with you and Jenna Reynolds?"

I scowled at Marcus. "What the hell?"

"Wasn't me." Marcus raised his hands and leaned back from the table. "You know how this town is."

"Wasn't the town," Brittany said. "Remember four years ago when I attended Noah Reynolds' wedding?"

I glared while I chewed her delicious pie. It's not as easy to do as you might think. "Why the fuck would I remember that?" This was going to be very bad.

Brittany wiped off the crumb of pie I'd spit on her. Accidentally. And smiled wider. She turned to Marcus and Damian. They made a much better audience for her ridiculous stories than I did.

"I went with a date," she said. "Some guy I met at Philistine's while I was in town visiting my darling brother."

I grunted. Brittany had the absolute worst taste in men.

"He needed a date for a wedding, and I agreed because I love weddings. Turns out, he was much more fun when I was drunk than when I was sober. He went home with a bridesmaid and I met Noah's youngest brother, Jared Reynolds."

"Oh," Damian said, his smile as immediate and easy as Brittany's. He turned to Marcus and squeezed his shoulder. "He's the veterinarian. The one with the hair and the muscles."

Marcus smiled at his boyfriend. "I haven't met him, but he doesn't sound at all like my type or yours." The teasing in his tone was obvious and the love between them was enough to make me push my pie away and take a good, long swig of beer. They made it seem so damn easy.

"He's a good-looking guy," Damian said. "But someone should gift that boy a hairbrush and beard gel. He takes the whole mountain man look a smidge too far."

Brittany's tinkling bell laugh rolled over us all. "He's an incredibly sweet guy. Grooming issues aside. He delivers cow babies all day. He doesn't have time to worry about brushing his hair."

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