Silence.
“Something other than judging our performance in this new round of Storm children vie for title of favorite child?”
The way this man shut down would have been impressive if it wasn’t so goddamn annoying. Fine. If he didn’t want to talk, she wouldn’t talk. She didn’t have to know. It wasn’t her business. So why did she ask, “Is it something related to me?”
“No.”
Good. She hadn’t wanted it to be.
“At least, not really.”
Good.She ignored the thought.
“What is it?” The silence was back, but she knew better than to try to match it. “It can’t be worse than all the others.”
He sighed. “Yours isn’t that bad, Alice.”
“You didn’t grow up in my family, and it shows.”
He didn’t respond to the repetition, the words he’d used with her earlier, instead tilting his chin in the direction of her suitcase. “You should take that upstairs.”
“What do you get if you play the game?” she asked.
The words were barely out of Alice’s mouth when Sila came down the back stairs and into the kitchen, clearly on a mission. She pulled up short, her tight ponytail swinging across the line of her jaw, sharp and pale despite the hours of seaside idyll she’d logged during the summer.
“Oh! You’re here.” She hesitated, her attention laser-focused on themas she added, in a tone that made it all sound much more salacious than it had been, “Together.”
Alice was smart enough not to correct her sister-in-law, as denial would make everything even more salacious. That, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep her anger about the conversation with Saoirse at bay if she let herself get into it with the other woman.
Sila didn’t seem to notice, pointing to the back door and saying, brightly, “I was just—the boats.”
“Nice day for it,” Jack said, and Alice couldn’t help the side-eye she slid his way at the banality.
“Isn’t it?” Sila asked, one hand on the screen door, all her attention on Jack as her tone shifted. “Do you want to walk back with me, Jack? Just to make sure we’re doing everything by the book? Being trapped in this house can get soboring.”
Ballsy to make a move in her in-laws’ kitchen, but history had proven that Sam’s wife was pretty legendary at shooting her shot. And making it.
Before Alice could analyze the situation any further, Jack reached for the suitcase at Alice’s feet and shocked everyone in the room. “Alice asked me to help her with her bags.”
The most basic of excuses. Completely transparent and somehow, wildly entertaining? Not to Jack, clearly, which made it even better. She turned her back to the others, hiding her amusement as she leaned down and collected her satchel.
As Sila left the kitchen, screen door slamming in her wake, Alice said, “I’m pretty sure I said I could take care of the bags myself.”
“You did.” He lifted the suitcase and started for the stairs leading to the upper rooms and the tower.
“I only say it because it seems like maybe you misunderstood me,” she said, following him.
“I didn’t.”
“Are you sure?” she teased.
“I’m sure,” he grumbled, picking up speed on the landing as he made for the next set of stairs.
She didn’t speak then, following quietly, not wanting to attractattention. Instead, she took the time to marvel at the fact that the heavy suitcase didn’t seem to throw him even a little off-balance. Did anything throw him off-balance?
When they started up to the third floor, she pushed. “Funny. I thought you were mydad’sfixer?”
“Alice.”