Miah-1(Lane Brothers, Book 2)(8)
“It’ll be fine, El. He’s just annoyed that I haven’t run back to him with my tail tucked between my legs. He should really know better, though, because after growing up with Mary in that trailer, even my humble little cottage is a palace.”
It’s not exactly the huge, pristine house Nick bought for us, but it’s enough for me and definitely a step up from my childhood home.
“God, remember when we went to visit your mom that one year?”
As if I could forget. The trailer looked like hell and she’d confessed that the last time it was cleaned was when I was still living at home. We’d eaten takeout I couldn’t afford but was forced to buy when the cupboards yielded only an expired can of bean soup, bread hard as a brick, and the refrigerator actually echoed when I pulled it open because it was so bare.
“Yup. She’s doing better now after Nick started sending her checks, but I can’t see her all of a sudden turning into Martha Stewart and cleaning things up.”
Ellie huffs and starts eating in silence—a sure sign that she’s been making small talk and has more than just Nick and Mom on the brain. I already know what she’s come here to say, and while I love her for trying to include me in her family, I’m not happy about it, either.
“Jude invited you to dinner, and before you say no, I have to warn you that she’s dropping by in about ten minutes to get you there. Kicking and screaming if she has to.”
“Ellie…come on! You know why I don’t—”
“Miah’s not going to be home for a while. He left to go to DC this afternoon, so calm yourself, sister. This is just a family dinner, not us matchmaking again.”
“Ugh, fine. I’ll come, but I swear, Ellie, if Jeremiah is there, I’m not going to be happy.”
The sly little minx just grins and keeps eating her contraband ice cream, all the while giving me sidelong glances.
An invitation is one thing, but having Jude arrive on my doorstep is another. So if the oaf gets moody about my presence, he can take it up with his mom.
And I can enjoy his presence a bit without having to feel like a clingy idiot who wants to actually be there.
Chapter Four
Miah
I know she’s here before I turn the corner and enter the dining room. I can’t say why or how I know, I just do. She’s like a physical presence within me. I feel her like an ache without so much as smelling her.
And there she is. Ma went and seated her right beside me at the dinner table.
“Oh, Jeremiah, honey, I didn’t know you’d be home tonight.”
Yeah, Ma, whatever you say, I think, smiling sardonically at her poor acting skills and the innocent batting of lashes when she looks over at Clara.
The woman is a damn menace, and from the eye roll I see from my girl, she’s thinking the same thing.
“Stop standing around as if you’ll grow taller and sit down, kid,” Pop says, his lips twitching in what I see is a smirk trying to break free.
That’s when I know that I’m outgunned. I’m also tired of fighting something I’ve tried to deny for a year now.
After the shitty day I’ve had, coming home to see her sweet, shy face at the dinner table feels so right that I can’t deny this anymore. I want her. My only problem now, as I sit down beside her and she scoots away minimally, is getting her.
“Evening, Clari.”
She tenses at my use of her nickname and peeks at me from beneath her lashes, her eyes rounded in shock and…is that dismay?
“Jeremiah.”
Conversation starts flowing around us but I can only focus on her and her every breath. Jesus, she smells good tonight, like a field of flowers and some sort of musky undertone that goes straight to my groin and starts a strong throb below my belt.
She’s wearing skinny jeans and an off-the-shoulder peach top that shows off her golden skin and the smooth expanse of her back.
The sight of so much skin when I’ve never seen her in anything revealing is a temptation I can’t resist, and I want nothing more than to lean over and press my lips to her and lick, just to see if she tastes as good as she looks.
“I ran a check on you today.”
Clari stiffens and turns my way, but instead of seeing the recrimination and anger I expect, she looks at me with a horrified gaze. She seems embarrassed.
I want to know what made her give up a relationship that lasted almost six years from the time she met that dickwad Nick Grimes in high school. I see the need for stability in her eyes—something her ex is more than capable of giving her, if my background check on the guy was right. He’s also raking in six figures a year.
What would make her leave? There’s a story there, and being the nosy bastard that I am, I want to know what, how, why, and when.