Chapter One
Jocelyn Dupree smiled as her brother showed her around her soon-to-be sister-in-law’s house.
“Now the kitchen is in here.”
She shared a smile with Cynthia. “Yeah, you don’t say?”
“I know it is small compared to your house in Atlanta, but things are smaller over here because of the space issue. There is a lot of counter space. I was even thinking of getting Evan to give me an estimate about redoing the area.”
“Really?” Cynthia said, and then leaned closer to Jocelyn. “That’s the first I heard of it.”
He tossed her a look then smiled at Jocelyn. If she hadn’t missed her brother so much, she would be irritated with his behavior. There was a tiny part of her that wanted to be the biggest bitch on the face of the earth just to see if he would keep smiling at her that way.
“I just thought it might be a good idea. You know, if you decide to stay. You need a bigger kitchen. More professional.”
She nodded as she started to walk around the small house. A year ago something like this would have driven her insane. The house she had shared with Mike in Atlanta had been huge. It had also sported a world-class kitchen with a six-burner Viking and a double oven. God, she missed that kitchen. Sadly, she missed it more than Mike. It probably didn’t say that much about her relationship that she longed for her Viking stove more than the man she’d lived with for over a year. With effort, she pushed aside those ideas.
She tucked her tongue in her cheek. “Not sure I’d want you redoing the kitchen right now. Seeing that I just got here. It would be kind of a pain to do without a kitchen.”
“Evan would do it really fast.”
She didn’t say anything as she wandered through the kitchen. She knew she could probably get a new convertible out of her brother right now. He was ready to do anything to make her feel at home, and if he’d acted like this when she had been a teenager, she definitely would have used it against him. But now, it just amused her at the same time it warmed her heart.
The house was a bit like a doll house. The walls were painted a soft green, with the ceiling off-white. The koa wood floors gleamed and creaked under her feet as she stepped. It was smaller than she was used to, but she had the strangest feeling as if she had arrived home. Warmth filled every corner and pulled at her. Here she would be able to live. Here she would feel safe.
“Of course, if you don’t like that idea we can find you somewhere else to live.”
She thought she heard Cynthia groan so Jocelyn took pity on her brother—and Cynthia. Truthfully, she was afraid her future sister-in-law might beat him if he kept it up.
“I think maybe I should be here for at least a day before I start coming up with ways to redecorate Cynthia’s house. Or plan any major reconstruction,” she said with a laugh.
Chris went on as though she hadn’t spoken. “Well, if you come on through here you can see the hallway leads to the bedroom.”
“Really?” she asked, her voice heavy with sarcasm.
He glanced at her, apparently noticed her expression and his lips quirked. “I’m just trying to show you around.”
She snorted as she leaned against the doorjamb. “It’s about fourteen hundred square feet. I think I can find my way around the house, Chris.”
His smile broadened and her nerves settled. “Fine. But if you can’t find the bathroom, don’t be calling me in the middle of the night. My woman has me up early to get her to the bakery.”
Cynthia laughed. “I can get myself to the bakery just fine. You’re the one who insists.”
He walked toward the two of them, a concerned look in his face. “I just wanted to make sure you were all set.”
There it was again. The look, the tone of voice, the things that told her he didn’t trust her alone. Because of one bastard of a boss, she had lost all standing within her family. It was as if she were sixteen years old again and he caught her hanging out on Bourbon Street with her friends. The logical part of her knew that he had a reason. Even if it wasn’t her fault, she understood. Still, it was getting damned old.
“I’m fine. Go. My flight was late and I know Cynthia gets up at three in the morning.”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “But what about dinner?”
“Cynthia said there was bread, coffee and peanut butter. I’m set for tonight.”
He hesitated. Now she was getting irritated. All her brothers had been bad, but Chris had been acting odd since she’d arrived. She wasn’t a danger to herself. Dr. Sawyer had never deemed Jocelyn a risk for suicide. It had just been physical and mental exhaustion. But she knew that her family saw it differently, especially Chris. Just like she knew he didn’t want to leave her alone, but he knew at the moment there was no way out of it.