Page 34 of Painting Her Fate

“Têtu. (Stubborn)”I mumble and roll my eyes, then I smile to myself when I see he doesn’t understand. All the better. He eyes me as he bends and flexes his fingers. And now that damned dimple is back.

“They gave me something until I see my doctor.”

He didn’t wince in pain like he had this morning. Hopefully for his

sake it will last.

Once in his truck, Zander asked if we could make a quick pit stop to his house to let his dog out. He mentioned his brother having a “nerdy thing” as he called it. On the trip over, he told me how he acquired Hank, what all Hank has destroyed, and how he pays his youngest brother to take care of him after school. I envy his family connection; it’s something I wish I had more of growing up.

We pull up to a modest craftsman two story home with a couple maple trees lining the quaint street side. It’s a quiet setting amongst the hustle and bustle of the city.This place isadorable.

The white house has a full-size porch, plain as it may be, it holds much potential. There are the beginnings of landscaping along the edge of the home, hinting of a fence in the back garden, and a decent spacing between neighbors. With a little work he would have wonderful curb appeal in time.

“I’ll only be a minute. Would you like to come in?” He shuts the truck off but leaves the keys in the ignition. Must not be a high crime rate here.

There’s little to do at containing my excitement as I unbuckle.

“Yes! I need to see this cutie!” I open my door and hop down. He meets me at the edge of the walkway then takes the lead to the door. I watch as he slides his key in, then hesitates, finding the handle already unlocked.

“Wait here,” he whispers then swings the door open and steps through the threshold.

Fat chance!No way is he fighting this intruder alone. He just started on the mend. Two is better than one to take on whoever may be inside. I follow right on his heels. Wouldn’t the dog be barking?

We enter, he’s quick to send a glare my way but doesn’t protest as we continue deeper inside his home. There is an ‘L’ shaped staircase directly to my right, on the left is a decently sized living area with a manly sized television, no surprise there.

He leads me through then into the dining room where an extensive eight-person oval table takes up most of the space. We hear rustling and a drawer closing from the kitchen in the next room over. He motions for me to stay put.

I oblige, adrenaline pumping in my veins, ready and eager to pounce at his signal. His semi crouched form rounds the corner just out of site and, fleetingly distracted, my thoughts stray to the man’s delectable rump, clad in those dark blue jeans of his.

Ruff.The faint bark of a dog, then a little happy whining sounds. A loud thud and a protest ensued.

“You scared the crap out of me!” A young male shout, “Quit sneaking up on me like that.” He grumbles and I can tell this is a constant razing between these two, “What are you doing here? You said you’d be busy at the bar.”

My tension eases. From the sound of it, I am about to meet his little brother.

Relief fills Zander’s tone, “Blake. I thought you were still at your tournament.”

Four paws clicking on tile then happy whimpers sound as a medium sized copper-colored dog with big pointy ears greets me. His tail wags in excitement and he begins hopping on his front paws, gearing to jump. Zander commands Hank to stay down. I wave him off and he releases Hank’s collar. I hold my hand out, Hank sniffs, then he rubs his head against it, demanding scratches. I bend down eye level with him, he excitedly licks my face and now I have the sudden urge to take him home.

“He is adorable, Alexander.” I say on a laugh.

“Well, who do we have here?” I hear his brother ask.

I stand to greet him but not before patting Hank on the head. He is eating up the attention and I’m happy to give it to him.

“Blake, this is Lili.” Zander turns to me, “Lili, this is my nosy littlest brother.”

“Bloody hell, you’re pretty.” Blake says in a mocking Cockney accent and bends as a butler would.

Oh my, the little charmer. I giggle and can see who he’s received his pointers from. Definitely Ford.

Just a touch taller than my five-foot-five-inch frame, Blake is rail thin, scrawny, has a similar hair coloring to Zander’s, but it’s shaggy and fuller. He sports thick black framed glasses and a bright youthful innocent smile. This has me wondering what Zander might’ve looked like in his youth.

If he is anything like his older brother, Blake is about to hit his growth spurt and have an abundance of ladies come rushing to his side.

“Blake! “Zander scolds, “You cannot do that! Apologize right now and greet her properly.” Zander took Blake’s head in a head lock, in turn, Blake began playfully punching his brother in his good side. It’s fun to see their sibling rivalry and games.

“Ow! Ok, ok!” Blake yells and Zander releases him, setting him upright and facing him towards me. I find that Zander’s brother and I will instantly connect well by what he’s wearing. I mean, his cream-colored shirt states, ‘bow ties are cool’. Clearly, this youngster has good taste in television.

---