Page 8 of Bottle Shock
I’ve come to realize I’ll do just about anything to help Lily feel closer to Allison—even if it means attempting to get a vacation home we don’t actually need.
I think, some part of me believes if I keep her life busy andfull of adventures, she won’t notice the gaps I can’t fill. A house can’t replace her mom. I know that. But maybe it can give Lily a place to feel closer to the pieces I can’t give her.
“Of course. I’m curious to see what’s available.”Shannon smiles and gives me a brief hug before adjusting the strap on her bag. “We’ll talk later this week about the details for the trip.”
After Wayne and Shannon say their goodbyes to Lily, I notice the party is starting to fizzle out. Kids have a ton of energy—until they don’t. The few that remain look like miniature drunk adults, seconds away from passing out.
Except Lily,who’s still going strong, practicing different jumps into the pool, while my sister Layla watches her like a hawk, taking her unofficial lifeguard duties as seriously as her nursing job.
Elyse is already pulling down the party décor with her fiancé, Dominic, who’s still in uniform and wearing a sling—recovering from the bullet he took for her. He looks like he came straight here from work. I’m about to join them when a tap on my shoulder stops me in my tracks.
It’s Kathleen.
Again.
I force a smile, keeping in mind that Lily adores dancing.
She’s close enough that I catch a whiff of her perfume. It’s nice. And Shane’s not wrong, she is attractive. But I don’t trust my judgment. It’s been a little too long since I’ve been with a woman, and I’m not about to give in to temptation with someone who screams trouble. And not the fun kind, either. The kind that’s complicated. Messy. Full of regret.
I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but something about her sets off alarms. Maybe it’s the way her smile never quite reaches her eyes. Or how quickly she loses her temper with the kids. Or maybe it’s just the way my stomach tightens whenevershe’s near. Whatever it is, it’s enough of a warning. My instincts are clear: stay the fuck away.
As she’s about to speak, a massive splash cuts her off, sending water flying into the air and crashing down right where we’re standing. My gaze whirls to the source, and Lily’s head surfaces, a wide grin splitting her cheeks.
“Sorry, Dad. Sorry, Miss Kathleen,” she says through a gasp as she spits out pool water.
In any other circumstance, I might give her a stern lecture about not splashing people during her cannonballs, but given she’s just provided me the perfect escape, on top of it being her birthday, shit I might buy her even more presents.
I took the brunt of the splash—Kathleen’s feet and sandals are barely wet, while my T-shirt and shorts are completely soaked.
She looks absolutely disgusted by the water assault, glancing down at her feet with flared nostrils—like smoke might billow out of them at any moment.
“Looks like I’d better go change,” I announce, gesturing to my clothing.I toss her a friendly grin before she can get a word out, then make my escape. Dodging through the kitchen, I head upstairs, taking two at a time. If there weren’t still guests here, I wouldn’t be in such a rush.
The second I’m inside my bedroom, I strip off my wet clothes—briefs included—and beeline to the en suite bathroom for a towel.
There’s a partition between the vanity and the shower where I keep towels and other supplies. I duck behind it, only to remember that all the towels are still in the dryer.
Cursing under my breath, I start toward the laundry room but freeze at the sound of footsteps.
Light. Feminine-sounding.
No one’s supposed to be up here. I swear to God, if Kathleen followed me, I’m going to lose?—
“—I said he deserved it,” a woman snaps. “Youknowwhat he did. So don’t sit there and tell me I need to apologize.He’sthe one who should be apologizing. He should be begging for my fucking forgiveness!”
Retreating, I step behind the partition wall, moving out of sight. This doesn’t sound like a conversation I should be overhearing—but thisismy bathroom.
“He’s a wormy sack of shit, and I stand by that.”
That’s when I recognize the voice. Scottie. Elyse’s best friend. My shoulders sag in relief, but just as quickly they tense back up.
Scottie is in my house. In my room.
I suddenly wish I’d cleaned up more, or at least folded the damn laundry pile on my bed.
I’m not prepared for this—forher. Elyse invited her but she declined the invitation, so naturally she’s the last person I expected to show up.
Silently, I flatten myself as flush as possible against the wall, hands covering my dick because I’m buck-ass naked.
