Evangeline

As soon as he's gone back inside, I leap back into the pool. That man is too hot for words.


He's also my step-uncle, as previously established. I need to keep my horny hands off of him. Antagonizing him seems like the best method for pushing him away. If I'm mad at him and painting him as an asshole, I won't want to tackle him. Because I absolutely cannot tackle him and come all over his cock again. He's my uncle.

Step-uncle. You aren't related, my brain helpfully supplies.

Shut up, brain. That's not helpful.


* * *

Carter


Need to talk to you is all Leonard's text says.

I survey the stack of emails waiting in my inbox. The San Diego redevelopment project is coming along well, but goddamn, the number of emails they send is out of this world. I never knew a construction company with this much communication. And they copy me on every single one.

Do I need to know all this shit? Probably not. Leaning back in my desk chair in the way that would've had my grammy gently smacking the side of my head, I dial Link.

'Hang on," he says by way of answering.

'Thought you needed to talk?" I grumble.

A few seconds later, he says, 'Okay. I'm on the other side of the house. Now I can talk."

'What do you mean—are you trying to get away from Mark?" He and his stepbrother have always had a strong relationship. He's as close to Mark Riorson as he is to me, just without the sharing of sexual partners.

'No. His daughter."

I grin. 'Does the widdle bitty baby Riorson scare you, Link?"

'A little bit, yeah."

He sounds incredibly serious.

'Uh…what's wrong?" I ask. 'Why, what's going on?"

'I thought I was meeting her for the first time. Turns out, we already met."

I wait, because so far, this isn't a problem.

He sighs. 'Remember Evie?"

'No." My breath comes out in a whoosh. 'No fucking way."

He doesn't say anything, and the longer I think about this, the more bizarre and hilarious it gets.

I have to mute the phone while I laugh.

'Carter?" Leonard says. 'Carter. Fuck it, Swann, you didn't drop the call. Are you fucking laughing at me?"

It takes me a second, but I manage to stop laughing and unmute the call. 'Might've been, yeah."

'Fuck you, man."

'I might allow it, but your niece beat me to it."

He groans.

'Look, it can't be that bad," I say. 'Isn't Mark out of the country? You said something like he wanted you to keep an eye on his daughter."

'Yes, and yes."

'So, maybe it's a sign," I say.

'Nope," Link says. 'If it's a sign of anything, it's a sign that we fucked up."

'We were never going to see her again, but fate threw her back into our path."

'Seriously? I know you're the sentimental one, but this is taking it a bit far, even for you."

'Dude, if I wasn't in San Diego right now on a job site, I'd be hustling my ass back north and knocking on Mark's door. She was perfect for us, Jaime, and you know it."

'She might've been," Leonard says. 'But now she's off limits."

'Maybe for you." I hang up. Leonard Jaime is going to be stuck in his own head about this, worried about societal norms and afraid, as usual, to fall in love.

I don't have those hang-ups. There's no blood relation between any of the parties involved, everyone is a consenting adult—or they were, at the time—and as soon as I'm done here, I'm doing exactly what I said—hustling my ass back north and knocking on Mark's door.

I'll claim that little girl for the both of us if I have to.

* * *

Evangeline

I haven't seen Leonard since our poolside argument, meaning we've passed a full twenty-four hours since we spoke to each other.

Not gonna lie, I'm looking forward to pissing him off again. It's thrilling and wrong and the very idea has my panties wet. But at the same time, I've been afraid of interacting with him. What if I push both of our buttons, and we give in to the sexual tension that's always crackling between us? So I've been hiding in my room for the most part, only leaving to get food and thanking my lucky stars for the en-suite bathroom.

The doorbell rings. I'm not expecting anyone, so I remain in the kitchen during my stealth dinner-making mission and wait for Leonard to get it.

It rings again.

'Leonard!" I shout. 'Are you waiting on an order or something?"

No response. Is he not even in the house? If he left, he left early. I think he works in construction, so that would make sense. All this time, I've been keeping to myself as much as possible when I could've been strutting around like I own the place. I missed an entire day of hanging out by the pool, dammit.

The doorbell rings again. The actual fuck. If this is someone here for Leonard, they are rude as fuck. Regardless of why they're here, they're rude as fuck.

Which is why it shouldn't entirely surprise me when I open the door and find my mom and Chanel on the front porch. Mom's in a stylish jumpsuit and heels, her dyed red hair in perfect waves. Chanel has on a pair of jeans and a nice top—something I never would've been able to afford and something she can't afford, either. Mom probably bought it for her on one of their regular shopping trips.

'What are you doing here?" I ask.

Mom pats her copper-colored hair. 'Evangeline, that's no way to greet your mother."

'Sorry," I say automatically. 'It's just sudden, and I wasn't expecting you. What's going on? Is Harold okay?"

'He's fine."

'How did you even know I'm here?"

'Where else would you go?" Mom asks.

Fair enough. I love that she never expected me to come home to her.

'Mark isn't around?" Mom says, bustling right in.

'No, he has a job in Japan."

'Figures," she mutters.

Gutsy of her, talking shit about him in his own house.

Chanel steps inside after Mom. I leave the door open and remain next to it. Surely, they can't be planning on staying for long.

Mom looks around at the living room. The furniture is comfortable, masculine. There isn't a throw pillow in sight, although there is a soft blanket folded on the arm of the couch. The paintings on the walls were done by Japanese artists, pieces that Dad picked up on his work trips. Their subtle hues remind me of my dad—understated but rich in personality.

Mom sniffs, as if thinking the place isn't up to her standards.

'So…to what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected company?" I say, trying to ask as nicely as possible why the fuck they're intruding on my peace.

'We wanted to tell you in person," Chanel says.

I close my eyes, praying for patience. 'Tell me what?"

'Chanel and Thomas are engaged!" Mom squeals.

I shouldn't care. I don't care. I stopped caring when I found out they were betraying me.

And yet the news is a gut-punch. Was she already wearing an engagement ring, while I was still wearing mine?

At least I know hers won't be my ring, the one he gave me, because I sold it.

I shove all the feelings down. Getting emotional right now won't accomplish anything. Tears prick my eyes, but I turn to look out the window and blink them away. I can't let them see me upset. Mom will turn it around on me 'making everything about myself" and 'selfishly trying to change the narrative."

Nobody speaks, and I realize they're waiting for me to say something.

'Congratulations," I manage.

'Oh, thank you," Chanel gushes. 'You're my sister, Evangeline, and I wanted to tell you before anyone else—other than Mom and Dad, of course. Look, look at the beautiful ring he gave me."

Unable to hold back the words, I say, 'What, did he get a buy one, get one free deal on engagement rings?"

'Evangeline," Mom says sharply. 'That isn't fair."

There's a lot about this that isn't fair, but nobody will see it that way. As soon as I introduced him, Mom always catered to Thomas. And Chanel was her favorite, too. This whole new relationship is probably what she views as 'right" in the world, like the universe is finally operating as it should, with her favorite daughter and her favorite guy together.

And me, shunted back to my dad's house in the shadows where I belong. I just want her to love me, too. At twenty-six, I still can't get over it.

'You owe Chanel an apology." Mom picks a metal box up off the coffee table, opens it to find the television remote control. 'She and Thomas are very much in love, and you're ruining this special moment."

Chanel is looking at me with tear-filled eyes. 'Please be happy for me, Evangeline?"

Barf. 'Of course. Super happy for you. I'm sorry if I led you to think anything different."

'That's not a true apology," Mom says in a chastising tone.

'I'm sorry, Chanel," I say, feeling like I'm ten again.

'It's all right," she says. 'I'm sure this is emotional for you. But I'm really hoping you'll come to the wedding."

'Oh," I say faintly. I can't imagine anything worse.

I'm quiet for too long.

'We have to put this behind us," Mom says in a brisk voice. She sets down the metal box with too much force. 'Of course you'll come to the wedding and celebrate Chanel on her special day. We're family, and family is the most important thing in the world."

If it had been the other way around—if I had cheated with Chanel's fiancé—would Mom be saying the same things about family?

Or would I be cut off forever?