Page 38 of Pour Decisions
That ass would haunt my dreams, would drive me insane with how badly I wanted to sink my teeth—and maybe something else—into it.
Jesus, I was in a bad way.
The frames featured a collection of my families, both blood and sports, displayed there to remind me who I was and where I came from, to ground me every time I stepped foot in this office.
Her hair swishing against her bare skin was the only sound in the room as she studied them, and as I studied her.
At last, she lifted her arm and tapped one with a long, manicured fingernail. It was the candid shot of the Lawless clan from homecoming. Our final family photo.
“Who are they?” she asked.
“My parents and siblings.”
“All of them?” She glanced over her shoulder at me, her eyes wide.
“All of them,” I confirmed. “You act like you’ve never seen a big family, Miss Middle-Of-Five.
“Okay, true,” she said with a giggle, continuing along the walls, pausing every so often. Her silence as she studied the pictures made my skin crawl. As if, by looking at them, she could see right into the darkest depths of my soul.
I breathed a massive sigh of relief when she turned and asked, “How many of you are there?”
“Seven. Me, five brothers, and a baby sister.”
“Baby?” Delia asked, brow raised, like she’d never used the same term to describe Brie, who was only two years her junior.
I knew she had, because I’d heard it.
“She’s fifteen years younger than me, so…yeah.Baby.”
Delia’s eyes widened and she said, “What about your brothers?”
“Trey is 35, Lane is 33, the twins, Finn and West, are 30, and Crew is 28.”
“Twins?” Delia asked, whirling on me fully. “And do they all look like you?”
I willed away the jealousy that spiked in my chest, resisting the urge to rub a palm against my sternum at the intrigue in her tone. “We’ve all got varying shades of sandy blond hair and blue-green eyes,” I said vaguely, taking a page out of her book and shrugging.
In truth, all of my brothers were handsome bastards, but I wasn’t about to tell Delia that.
“Where do they all live? Where are you even from?”
“They’re all back home in Idaho. Including my sister, Aria.”
“Let me guess,” she said with a smile. “She’s a singer. Or she wants to be.”
“Naturally,” I said. “How could she be anything else?”
“Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that,” Delia said, nodding sagely. “And your brothers?”
I quickly explained what each of them did, and Delia whistled low.
“What about your parents?”
“Ahh…” I started, swallowing around the lump that had taken up residence in my throat. “My mom is in Idaho too. She’s sort of the den mother for all the hands at our family ranch, and shehelps my brothers out where they need it. My dad is…gone.”
I choked on the final word. It had been nearly seventeen years, and it was still difficult to talk about.
My tone must’ve conveyed enough because Delia didn’t press for more. She simply said, “I’m sorry.”
