Page 39 of These Summer Storms

Alice sighed. “I do, as a matter of fact. I confess, detective. He was in my room last night when I discovered that Sam stole my clothes. Mr. Dean…In the tower…With the running shorts.”

Greta’s brows rose. “By invitation?”

“Dad’s invitation, as I understand it.”

Greta didn’t misunderstand. She grimaced. “We should have told him you were up there.”Shouldwas the realm of the Storms, especially when it came to their responsibilities to each other. “Or told you that’s his room.”

“It’smyroom,” Alice said.

“Right. I didn’t mean that,” Greta rushed to correct herself. “But he always sleeps there. Because you never…”

She trailed off, but Alice heard it all anyway. “Well, he didn’t sleep there last night.”

“Impressive. Anyone else would have been begging for it.”

“Well, his irritatingly good looks aside, I did not beg.” Nor did she even think about begging. At least, not while he wasinthe room.

Greta’s brows slid into her hairline. “I wasn’t referring to you begging for it, actually. I was saying he should have been begging for it…considering how those shorts make your ass look.”

It was an olive branch. The kind of non-apology only sisters were allowed to get away with even after all this time. After a beat, Alice accepted it, and the truce it came with. “Well, me in these shorts is the closest Jack Dean will ever get to my ass,” Alice lied.

“Are you sure of that? Irritatingly good looks?” When Alice rolled her eyes, Greta added, “You know, Sila’s been after him for years.”

Alice blinked. “After Jack?”

Greta shrugged. “I could be wrong.”

Maybe. But she probably wasn’t. Greta was the most observant member of the family—a quality borne of having to be constantly on guard, lest someone discover the truth about her relationship. “What does Sam think?”

“Does Sam think?” They shared a smile and Greta added, “Honestly, I think that’s part of why Sam can’t stand him. That, and the fact that he’s always gotten the promotion Sam was expecting.”

It wasn’t a surprise. Jack Dean didn’t seem like the kind of man who coasted. “Sam ought to try working sometime.” Alice looked to the ocean. “And you? What do you think of him?”Why did she care?

Greta was silent for a stretch. “I think there’s a reason Dad loved him so much.” It was a warning, and Alice didn’t miss it. “Anyway. Sila’s going to lose her mind when she sees you in his T-shirt. And those shorts. A real combo.”

Alice made a show of looking at her behind. “Here I was thinking I should go find my clothes and change.”

“And miss all the fun?”

For a moment, everything felt light again. Like they were just sisters and this was just an ordinary visit home to visit ordinary family. But there was nothing ordinary here.

“Stay. Please,” Greta whispered.

Before Alice could answer, the screen door creaked open, and Elisabeth leaned out. “There you are. Come in, please. We have some things to discuss.”

The sisters shared a look and headed in, Alice avoiding her mother’s pointed glance. Elisabeth had also noticed the shorts.

Inside, Sam leaned against the counter by the toaster, staring down at his phone, next to Saoirse, who had a yogurt in one hand and her own phone in the other. Alice waved in her niece’s direction. “Hey you.”

Saoirse tucked her long hair (old-money blond, just like her father) behind her ear, but didn’t look up. “Dad can’t talk.”

Alice looked at her watch—seven forty-five. “Are you here to interpret?”

“No…I kind of like that he can’t talk,” the teen deadpannedperfectly, enjoying the laugh she got as she made her way out of the kitchen, still riveted to her screen.

“She’s funny,” Alice said to Sam. “Wonder where she got it?”

He wasn’t amused.

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