Page 83 of When We Were Us
Finn turns to me as everyone joins us on the deck. “Paige, this is Wrenley. She was my best girlfriend growing up. Wren, this is Hudson’s daughter, Paige.”
I hold out my hand and the dark-haired beauty looks up at me with surprised hazel eyes and a gap-tooth grin.
She takes my hand. “I know who Wrenley is, Finn. Daddy says Uncle Hank wants to get into her pants.” She looks back up at me, appraisingly. “But I don’t think that will work because Uncle Hank is waaay bigger than you.”
My eyes go wide as I flick a glance toward Hank, who chokes on his drink. Hutch barks out a laugh, and Hayley smacks him in the stomach just as Hudson groans loudly. I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Norah, and Nat dissolve into a fit of giggles and a rumble of laughter comes from Duke.
“Paige, honey, you can’t repeat stuff like that, remember? We talked about this.” Hudson shoots me an apologetic look as he takes her by the shoulders and leads her to the table.
Emily shakes her head with a small smile and takes the seat Duke pulls out for her.
I catch Hank’s eye across the table as we all settle in. I raise my eyebrows at him with a smile, asif to say,what was that?He gives me an apologetic smile and shrugs.
During dinner, conversation is light, and I can’t help but feel at home. I love watching the dynamics between all Hank’s siblings, and marvel at how, even when they talk over each other, there is still a mutual respect between all of them.
Being an only child, I never experienced the kind of life the Hayes kids grew up with. They’re all incredibly kind, and even though they all have their different personalities, you can tell they are siblings just by the way they interact.
Hank is most definitely the responsible big brother, Hudson is the prankster, and Hutch is quiet but has the best comebacks. Nat and Norah are complete opposites: Nat is loud, and Norah is reserved.
And Hayley is so obviously the baby. Hank seems the most protective of her, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. When one of her brothers gives her a hard time, he almost always jibes back at them, like he can’t help but come to her rescue. It’s one more thing I find completely endearing about him.
After dinner, everyone heads to the firepit to relax with wine and beers in hand, and Hank directs his parents toward the stairs.
“You and Pop go relax. Wren and I can clean up.”
“Hank, Wren is a guest. She shouldn’t?—”
“Just the other day, you said I was family, and where I come from, that means dish duty is a requirement,” I say.
Duke takes Emily by the hand and points at me, but his gaze is on Hank. “You stay out of that girl’s pants in my house. There’s a little one running around here.”
Hank groans with his head tipped back. “Jesus, Pop.”
I choke on a laugh I try to disguise as a cough but fail miserably.
Emily swats her husband on the shoulder, and he rumbles out a laugh as they amble down the steps toward the firepit, hand in hand.
We gather the plates, napkins, utensils, and glasses, and Hank holds the screen door for me while I go in ahead of him. Once we’ve got all the dishes and leftover food from outside, we fall into an easy, quiet rhythm, working side by side. He hands me a few plastic food containers and I pack up the leftovers, while he starts rinsing dishes and loading them into the dishwasher.
It's incredibly domestic and so damn normal that I can’t help but smile. I used to dream about this kind of thing as a young girl, when I would watch my grandparents engage in this same sort of intimacy. They moved about the kitchen in the evenings, silently working, and revolving around one another like it was the most natural thing in the world for two people to do.
My own parents were never like this. All they ever did was fight, but I’d sworn one day I would have a life just like this, here in Timber Forge. But that was back before I realized that not everyone had a marriage like my grandparents and getting out of Timber Forge became my biggest dream of all.
I put the leftovers in the fridge, and when I turn back around, Hank is watching me from across the island. His long legs are crossed at the ankles as he leans back against the counter next to the sink. He’s got those delicious arms folded across his broad chest. He’s finished loading the dishwasher and one side of the sink is filling with hot, soapy water.
The intensity in his gaze immediately makes me drop my eyes, and I scoop up the baking dishes and salad bowl.
“What?” I ask with a half smile, rounding the island. Coming to stand next to him, I place the dishes in the half-full sink. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
His voice is low when he answers, and I can feel his heat next to me like a furnace. “Like what?”
“Like you—” I chance a peek up at him and immediately regret it because,my God,he is so close, and he smellsso damn good. Even his collarbones are sexy. Whatever I thought was amusing a moment ago is no longer. All I can think about is my pulse pounding in my ears and the slow rise and fall of his chest.
“Like I what?” he repeats, his voice every bit as husky as it was before, maybe more. He leans in ever so slightly and I see more than hear him take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It ruffles my hair, and if I turn my head, I know without a doubt that our lips would meet.
He shifts and I feel every nerve ending in my body come to life when the pinky of his right hand brushes mine. I fight to keep my breathing even.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he whispers oh so close to my ear.
