"We're looking forward to having you stay with us," he lied, "Lindsey's got your room waiting for you. I think you're really going to like the internship, Paige. I think it just might be what you need."
I sighed. "Thanks for letting me stay with you guys. I'll try to stay out of your way, I promise."
Silence.
"See you soon," he said.
chapter 1
I fumbled with the lock on the front door, trying to shift the bags of groceries I had in my arms to one side in order to turn the knob. I was kind of worn out and it was just past noon.
My lovely sister-in-law, Lindsey, had left me with a full shopping/errand list this morning, rousing my ass out of bed at seven-thirty. On a Saturday no less.
I'd been up fairly late, getting a lecture from big brother Trace, right before he left on some covert FBI mission. His lecture was all about earning my keep around here, acting responsibly, setting a better example for the babies. He felt that I could be a bigger help to Lindsey, when she had clients to visit with the little decorating business she and her mother Samantha had going, yadda, yadda, yadda.
"Paige," Trace had said, his voice carrying that serious, authoritative and slightly-tyrannical tone that he almost never used with Lindsey. "Lindsey and I talked about you doing a little more pitching in around here. It's not like you pay rent or anything, so how's about taking on some responsibilities and maybe curtailing some of the partying?"
"I don't mind helping out," I shrugged, "but what's the deal with my partying?" I questioned, eying my older brother warily.
"Hey, what you do and who you do it with is your business—don't get me wrong. I know you're only twenty-two and just now getting out from under Mom and Dad's roof, but we've got kids here—babies, and well…"
He was obviously uncomfortable with the subject matter, so I took the opportunity to interrupt. "Look, Trace, if it's a problem that I brought a couple of guys here for the night, I just won't do it anymore. But Christ, it's not like Harper and Jackson are old enough to know what's going on. I mean, seriously?"
"It's not just the fact that you brought a couple of random dudes home over the past few weeks, it's that you've shown a total disregard for the rest of us, you know?"
"No, I'm not following you, big brother," I semi-snapped. "It's not as if I fucked them on the spotless floor of your family room, while you and Lindsey were watching 'Criminal Minds.'"
His green eyes blazed an ultra shade of pissed.
"You're loud and disruptive when you…entertain, Paige. It makes Lindsey uncomfortable, and uh…me too. Lindsey and I would prefer that you not do that anymore. It'd be better if you stay over at your boyfriend's places in the future."
"Boyfriends?" I snorted with a laugh. "They weren't boyfriends, they were hook-ups. And are you seriously gonna sit there and act like you never had casual sex? That every chick you've ever laid was a girlfriend? Because if you say yes, then I'm calling you out on it."
I started to get up to leave the room, but Trace wasn't finished with the lecture just yet.
"Hold up, Paige. Look, I'm not one to lecture you on the moral fine points of 'hooking up' or having fuck buddies. And for the record, my sexual history is none of your goddamn business, and it's not part of this conversation, because I'm not gonna preach like that. What I am gonna tell you is that this is our home and you will respect the ground rules, or you'll have to move out. Got it?"
Fuck, he's pissed.
I shrugged, clasping my hands together. "Sure. I apologize, Trace. It won't happen again."
Right then and there I knew that my living arrangement wasn't going to work. Somewhere along the way, Trace had been domesticated.
Huh, who'd have thought?
It wasn't like I’d seen him a lot over the past say, twelve or thirteen years, but Holy Mother of Christ, I could see that my good ol’ big brother was indeed pussy-whipped. Certainly not the same guy that left Napa all of those years ago with a bevy of blondes mourning his departure.
My other older brother, Easton, was even more of a stranger to me than Trace. Probably because he hadn't been born to my mother. I had only brief, scattered memories of him growing up. He would stay with us during the summers back then. I had been in pigtails and braces at the time, but I had seen more of him over the past few weeks since I'd been here, than over the twenty-two years that I'd been on this planet.
His wife, Darcy, seemed like a pretty cool chick. She and Lindsey were tight, both being the same age and having been friends before they became sisters-in-law, but for whatever reason, I could relate to Darcy more than I could to Lindsey.
Yeah, they were like a little over a year older than me, but with having kids and all that, I guess it put them in a different maturity category; though, if I were a betting person, I'd say that Darcy had done her share of dudes, more so than Lindsey for sure.
I filed that away for future reference. If Trace and Lindsey were going to be so fucking uptight, maybe Easton and Darcy would open their huge house to little sister. I doubted that my craving for…male attention would be as off-putting over there as it apparently was over here.
Pfft!! Was Lindsey up-tight or what?
I was overjoyed that she'd taken the rug rats with her today. I don't think I could've accomplished everything she had put on my 'to-do' list while having to drag those two along with me. Harper was at least somewhat manageable at two and a half, but Jackson was another fucking story. I mean, I don't do diapers.
At all.
I knew that someday I would, because having a little rug rat of my own was in the plan—eventually. But that was a long ways off.
I'd been at Trace and Lindsey's for about six weeks now. I had started going through my P.T. at Quantico a few weeks ago. (P.T. means Physical Training for those of you not familiar with military lingo.) And let me add that physical training is a bitch under any circumstances, but for someone who hadn't bothered to condition before starting the program (like me) it was damn near suicide.
I gathered up the groceries, taking them into the kitchen and setting them on the countertop.
Fuck!
Lindsey had added yet another one of her pink post-it notes to the fridge.
What now?
She must've stopped home while I was out.
(Beotch.)
Paige - Forgot to tell you that I have a plumber stopping by this afternoon between one and two. He's to fix the shower in the master bath and leave the bill with you. - L
Okay, whatevs.
At least I didn't have to go back out. Trying to navigate around the metropolitan D.C. area was a bitch. Hell, I don't know how many times I ended up in Maryland instead of freakin' Virginia!
I had just finished putting the groceries away when there was a knock on the door. I opened it to a dark-haired, brown-eyed dude that had a fucking tool belt on.
Damned if he wasn't built, too.
"Hey," he said, and I noticed right off that his voice was deep and sexy. "I'm scheduled to check out a leaking shower faucet in the master bath. Are you Mrs. Matthews?"
"Hi," I said, flashing him a smile as I opened the door wider to let him in. "Actually, I'm the sister-in-law from hell," I joked. "But Lindsey did leave a note saying you'd be here. Come on in."
Now it was his turn to flash a smile at me, showing perfectly even white teeth. The name embroidered on his blue work shirt read "Jason."