Page 55 of Light Up The Night
My heart is thundering in my chest. "I was startled."
He chuckles—I have come to learn that he laughs a lot and easily, and now that I believe he is not doing so at my expense, I find his constant, easy laughter refreshing and uplifting. "I'm gettin' that." He pulls me by the hand into the garage, murmuring in my ear again. "So look, there's a better than even chance he might tease us a bit. Me, mainly. It's meant with love, but if he says something that bothers you, let me know, okay?"
I squeeze his hand. "I appreciate the warning, Riley, thank you. I shall."
Felix and Riley resemble each other quite strongly—albeit Felix has dark golden hair, whereas Riley's is jet black. Felix is more heavily muscled, against Riley's leaner physique. But their facial structure and general build are nearly identical. One could not possibly mistake them for anything but brothers.
Felix is dressed very much like Riley—in dirty, faded, ripped pale blue denim and a plain black T-shirt with a well-worn and tattered ball cap on his head, pushed back so a few tendrils of golden hair sprout beneath the bill. His eyes are the twin of Riley’s—palest blue and intense and piercing.
He precedes us back through the garage, between the truck and van, and into the house. Inside is bathed in natural light from every direction, even the mudroom in which we find ourselves. Felix leads and we follow him out of the mudroom and directly into the kitchen, which features a gargantuan island topped by a mammoth butcher's block; the rest of the counters are white marble shot through with gold streaks. There's a deep, hammered copper farm sink, an eight-burner range with a matching stainless steel refrigerator.
Felix leans against the island, watching our reactions. "So, Rye. You haven't been in here since we moved in, ya bum. What do you think?"
Riley is looking around with a critical eye, nodding. "It's fuckin' killer, Fee. You really outdid yourself on this one. The butcher block to match the floor, the dark cabinets, and white counters?"
Felix is grinning. "Wanna know somethin' about the interior design? Jess did it."
Riley blinks. "Jess?Office Jess? Has carried a torch for your ass for literally years?That Jess?"
Felix shrugs, nodding. "The one and the same. We talked about the crush actually, and obviously she knows it's never been and never gonna be returned. I think she's dating someone now. A finish carpenter with Jimmy McKay's outfit. Turns out Jess has had an interior design bug for years. She redid the office, too. Not sure if you noticed or not."
Riley nods, eyes wide. "No shit!Shedid that? It looks great. Been in need of an overhaul since the Reagan administration at least."
"Exactly my words, matter of fact. She's been working with Eric for months, and she's honestly been a godsend. Sped up the design process immensely, and as great as Eric is, there's just nothing like a woman's touch, especially when it comes to staging." He grins my way. "Speaking of women who're a godsend. Introduce us, you mannerless barbarian."
"Fuck off, cockwaffle," Riley says, his tone playful. "You're the one babbling about Jess's designs."
Felix frowns. "I donotbabble." He arches an eyebrow. "And would you prefer me to return to how I was before Ember?"
Riley cackles, holding up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, you win. Babble on, bro. Happy Fee is the best Fee." He gestures at me. "Cadence Creswell, MD, this is my brother, Felix."
I lean close to him, murmuring. 'You don't need to announce the MD part toeveryone, you know."
He seems confused. "But…why wouldn't you? That's something to be proud as fuck about. You oughta tell everyone that shit."
Felix chuckles. "Don't mind him, he's an idiot. He means well, though." He extends a hand to me; his grip is firm but gentle, not overpowering nor limp. "It's great to meet you, Cadence. Glad you could make it."
I scan the home—the cozy den beyond the kitchen is bathed in more light from floor-to-ceiling windows along the back wall, with cream carpet and a tan leather sectional around a coffee table made from a single section of wood, with live edges around the rim, the top lacquered and polished and adorned with a three-wick candle giving off a pleasant vanilla scent and scattered with pregnancy magazines and a stack of neatly-folded infant onesies.
“Your home is lovely," I tell Felix. "I take it you built it yourself?"
He nods, visibly proud. “Guilty as charged."
"You are a very talented builder, then. Thank you for having me, Felix." I look around. "I heard you are recently wed. Is your bride in attendance?"
I can see Felix's gears turning, metaphorically speaking, as he begins to notice my oddities. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. She just had to visit her favorite place."
I frown. "I do not know what that would be."
He laughs. "She's roughly six hundred and forty weeks pregnant, so…the bathroom. I think she's peed ten times in the last hour."
A female voice carries from a nearby hallway. "I heard that!" The owner of the voice is a short, beautiful woman a few years older than me with white-blond hair in a thick braid down her back; she is, as announced, extremely pregnant, although six-hundred-and-forty weeks is obviously a massive exaggeration. "Your daughter is sitting on my bladder, Felix. I'd love to spend less time peeing, believe me."
She hustles over to me, rubbing lotion onto her hands. "My god, you're beautiful." She leans and embraces me, mercifully releasing me almost immediately. "What are you doing slumming it with this goober?" She jerks a thumb at Riley
I hardly know how to respond—to the unexpected hug, to her compliment, and most of all to her teasing assessment of Riley as a "goober," whatever that may be.
"I…um. I thank you for your kind words, Ember. It is wonderful to meet you." I hesitate. "You are lovely as well."
