Page 5 of A Way Out
Finally, Daniel nodded. “Okay, we’ll do it.”
Oz nudged his shoulder. “How about a thank-you?”
Daniel gave a sweeping glance at the massive, sunken living area with a wall of windows overlooking the patio, pool, the Hollywood sign, and the mountain behind it. “Thanks,” he said, and then he headed outside to tell his sisters the good news.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Oz thrust out his own hand. “Thanks, man. Seriously.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” Sam assured him. “You’re doing us a favor. Oh, and we’re seriously considering looking at real estate in the Ozarks when we get back from our honeymoon, so we may extend our timeline. It’s cool if you stay here longer if we do.”
Oz forced a laugh. Now they were getting into “I don’t take handouts” territory. “Maybe I’ll let them stay here and I’ll head to my mom’s house. The idea of hanging out there without a single other person around is really tempting.”
“Fair point,” Sam said. “But this place has a weekly grocery delivery. And the fridge in the studio is stocked with beer.”
Not cheap beer, either. Oz had practiced in their home studio enough times to know they didn’t keep Miller Lite down there.
The screen on Sam’s phone lit up. “Our car’s here. Ready to go get married, babe?” He was grinning at Holly like a man head over heels in love. Lucky bastard.
Oz had never felt that way about another person outside his own family, and usually, he was okay with that. Being in love was complicated as hell, whether you found your Mr. or Mrs. Right or you ended up with the worst kind of wrong. The complications were simply different.
So yeah, he generally was content to stay away from any chance of falling in love. Every now and then, however, when he spent time with couples like Sam and Holly or Lacey and Parker from his own band, he felt a little pang, like maybe he would be open to the idea of love after all. The concept of having a partner by his side as he negotiated his way through life did have some appeal.
Sometimes.
Except he came with a whole lot of what a potential love interest would no doubt consider baggage—not to even get into the debt he’d managed to rack up since he took custody of his sister’s kids—and he wasn’t about to give them up for anything. Or anyone.
As soon as Holly and Sam left, the kids all rushed inside, clamoring for their swimsuits. Oz pointed to each of their duffle bags, lined up in a row in the entry. “Grab your bags and let’s go upstairs so I can show you each your rooms.”
“Wait a minute,” Elana said. “I don’t have to share with Isabel?”
Oz laughed. “Nope. There are six bedrooms in this place. You don’t even have to be near Isabel.”
“I may never leave,” Elana whispered as she followed him up the stairs.
Oz had been living in a shitty one-bedroom apartment when he found out he was gaining custody of his nieces and nephew. So he and the kids moved in with his mother, which had the accidental benefit of helping her through the grief of losing her daughter, so ultimately it was a win.
Still, her house had only three bedrooms, which meant she got one, Daniel got his own room, and the girls had to share. Oz claimed the couch as his bed. He’d thought Elana was cool with the arrangement, although he supposed a thirteen-year-old girl had a right to wish for her own room.
Soon, everybody had changed into swimsuits, and the kids were having a blast in the pool while Oz sat in a lounger, keeping an eye on them with an icy cold beer in hand.
Okay, maybe the decision to house-sit wasn’t so terrible.
The buzzer sounded from the front gate. Tugging his shirt over his head, he called out, “Everybody out of the pool while I go see who’s here.”
The kids grumbled but complied, and he hurried through the house to answer the summons. He pressed the button on the console next to the front door.
“Hello?”
“Who’s this?” came the reply.
“Uh, who’s this?”
“You don’t sound like Sam.”
“Probably because I’m not.”
“Is Holly home?”
“Not at the moment.”
