Page 42 of Letters of Faith
Avery jumps up, cheering, and Georgia throws me a conspiratorial look. I don’t know what her plan is, but it looks like my brother and his family are staying.
Resigned to my fate, I stomp up the steps, unlocking the door and stepping back for everyone else to enter. Avery leads Georgia by the hand, pulling her up the steps of my porch. Emryn follows them, that smile of contentment still on her face. As she passes me, she places her hand on my shoulder, leans in, and whispers, “You’re more alike than you think.” Then she continues, following behind her daughter andGeorgia.
Bringing up the end, Brooks stops in front of me, working his jaw as he watches his wife disappear into the house.
“She’s not wrong, you know. We are a lot alike, but the difference is I’m the handsome brother.”
He slaps my shoulder and walks through the door, grinning.
Sticking my boot out, I catch his foot as he crosses the threshold into the house. He’s not expecting it, so he doesn’t gain his balance in time. Instead, he flails for a minute before crashing to the ground, barely catching himself with his hands. Too bad—I was hoping he’d catch himself with that handsome face of his.
I stand over him, smirking as he looks up at me in surprise. The shock quickly fades, and he narrows his eyes, looking for a weak point he can attack. I slide my hands in my pockets and lead my shoulder against the door frame, kicking one foot over the other and whistling as I wait for him to decide what to do.
Still on the floor, he pushes up his sleeves over his forearms. My eyes follow the motion, but I remain impassive until I see it. Dark ink runs over his forearm from his wrist to his elbow. Jeremiah 29:11 is written in block letters. He didn’t have a tattoo the last two times I’ve seen him, so it must be fairly new.
Tipping my head towards the ink, I say, “Trying to be like me, little brother?”
Sarcasm oozes through my voice, but I still don’t move an inch.
Brooks glances down at the tattoo and then back at me before rolling his eyes and pushing to his feet.
“You know, Grayson, not everything is about you,” he says, walking away.
“That’s what you think,” I call after him.
I make a mental note to ask Georgia about the meaning of Brooks’s tattoo later and follow behind him to find the women.
In the kitchen, Georgia is ruffling through cabinets, pulling out coffee cups and all the fixings for hot chocolate. She looks at home—like she belongs here—and it does funny things to my chest.
Avery is sitting at the bar, and I pull out a chair beside her. Emryn is on the other side of the kitchen helping Georgia. Brooks walks over to his wife and pulls her into a hug. She giggles, and I try not to gag.
My skin prickles with unease as if someone is watching. Turning my head, I come face to face with Avery’s blue eyes. She’s so close that I jerk back. My stool careens, and I have to place my foot out to keep from falling. Avery isn’t fazed, her icy blue eyes staring into my soul as wisps of blonde hair fall out of her ponytail.
“Do you always look this grumpy?” she asks.
“Yes,” I reply, my voice gruffer than I meant it to be, but she merely nods, a serious look on her face—now that she takes from her dad’s side.
I don’t know what to do here. I’ve never been around kids, only adults, and even then, I don’t like the majority of the adults I talk to—besides Georgia. She’s the exception.
“When I’m mad and scrunch my face up like yours, Mommy tells me mine will get stuck like that. Is yours stuck like that?”
My brows dip lower, and I watch as horror fills her eyes. I’m pretty sure that’s a tear in the corner.
Panic seizes my chest. When did I start keeping the house so warm? Sweat trickles down my back as I roll up the sleeves of my hoodie, pushing them over my forearms.
This is only the second interaction I’ve ever had with my niece, and it’s going to end in tears—hers and mine.
Thinking quick, I force a smile on my face, but that only causes her lip to wobble.
“It—it is stuck that way,” she cries.
Helplessly, I glance over at Georgia, sending her a pleading look. Sheshakes her head and gives a subtle tilt of her head toward my niece.
I’m going to have a heat stroke. The sweat is beading on my forehead now.
There’s a smug humor in Brooks’s eye, but I don’t have time to think about that right now. I have to fix this before there are actual tears. I’ve been in boardrooms with grown men who are less intimidating than this.
Thinking quickly, I spy the highlighters I left on the kitchen table. I’d been working on board reports when Georgia called earlier, but there was so much panic in her voice that I’d dropped everything and left.
