She shrugged. “Since I’m mostly working from home, I figured no harm in planning to stay a few extra days.”
The thought to pack a bag and turn a midweek supper into a very long weekend had occurred to him as well, but then he decided that first, he had enough clothing still at the house to last him a month, and second, showing up for an extended stay might fall in the camp of overreacting to a simple call for a family dinner in the middle of the week. “That’ll make Mom happy.”
His sister flashed a huge toothy grin. “I know.”
“Women,” he muttered, laughing to himself. After four boys, and nothing but male cousins, the birth of twin girls had been a delightful surprise. That kid and his other sister had everyone in the family wrapped around their fingers from the day they were born, and he doubted that would ever change.
Retreating down the hall, he turned into his father’s domain. Charles Sweet’s study hadn’t changed much since the days when Preston and his siblings had trotted around on wooden pony sticks with makeshift lassos and pretended to rope everything from the toy horses to the desktop lamp—and each other. In an effort to keep them all in one piece, their father had dutifully uttered the occasional warning of ‘be careful’ or ‘not so rough’—most likely for their mother’s benefit. More so though, their dad had simply done his best to get through the paperwork part of the ranch business while his children created havoc around him.
Funny, in all the time since they’d buried their father, the familiar scent of his aftershave seemed to still linger in the air. Or perhaps it was nothing more than memories and wishful thinking.
“Did Mom tell anyone why we’re all here?” Carson uncapped the crystal decanter behind the desk then raised an empty glass to his brother.
“No, thanks.” Preston waved off the silent invitation. “Rachel is unpacking. Neither of us has any idea what this is all about.”
Carson, who since their father’s passing had done his best to step up in their oldest brother Kade’s absence and quietly be there for their mother, sank heavily in one of the oversized leather chairs, swirled the ice in the two fingers of bourbon, and took a long swallow.
“Looks like you’ve had a hard day.” Preston took a seat across from him, leaving the sofa and a smaller chair for his mom and siblings.
“Hard week.” Carson eyed the glass glimmering from the reflection of the nearby lamp. “Heck, more like weeks.”
Hands threaded in front of him, Preston leaned forward. Even though Carson was the most private of the siblings, Preston couldn’t remember seeing his brother stew so sternly over anything. “What’s wrong?”
“Just another day in the flip world.” Carson sighed. “Turns out the most recent project we sank all our available cash into, is now knee deep in litigation.”
“That’s something new.”
“For me it is. Seems all the houses in that subdivision are in a class action suit against the original developers and we can’t do squat until it’s settled. My ninety-day rehab schedule just went down the drain.”
“So now what?”
“Not sure. I’m okay for a while, but the reno budget is growing tighter every day until I come up with a plan B.”
“Sorry, man.” Preston changed his mind about that drink after all.
The loose board by the threshold squeaked, announcing his sister’s arrival. “A little early to be drinking, isn’t it?”
“What’s that saying, it’s five o’clock somewhere?” Carson leaned forward and set his drink on the table then looked at his watch. “It’s been five o’clock on the east coast for over half an hour.”
“In that case,” Rachel smiled up at Preston still at the bar, “make mine on the rocks.”
“Aren’t you too young to drink?” Carson teased.
His sister flashed a wistful grin. “Oh, to be twenty-one again.”
“Twenty-one? Aren’t you sixteen?”
“Here we go again.” Rachel accepted her glass and rolled her eyes at her brothers.
Didn’t matter how old she grew, in their eyes she and Jillian would always be the kid sisters who needed their big bad brothers to keep them safe and out of trouble, especially since the two had been stubborn and strong-willed since birth. Not even falling from the boys’ tree house and breaking an arm had taken the edge off of Rachel’s adventurous streak.
“Never mind that.” Preston figured the least he could do was reel in his brother’s sense of humor, especially since they had more pressing matters at hand. Setting his drink aside, he slid his phone from his pocket and hit his mom’s number.
“Mom?” Rachel asked.
Preston nodded, and Carson scooted to the edge of his seat, carefully watching the phone, then sliding back when the call went to voice mail.
Still staring at the now quiet phone, Rachel frowned. “Anyone else starting to feel guilty for making Mom worry when we missed curfew and forgot our phones?”