Page 30 of The Trouble with Wanting

“Oh shit. He’s home, everybody!” the guy shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Boyd Mitchell has returned to the homestead!”

Suddenly, the whole bar starts cheering, a raucous hollering of hoots and hell-yeahs and welcome-backs.

Even in the dim light of the bar, I can still see a faint blush creeping up Boyd’s neck, and he glances back with pursed lips and raised shoulders as if to apologize for the craziness.

Before we take even another step forward, the shouting guy rounds the table and wraps Boyd in a bear hug like none other. This one Boyd returns a bit more enthusiastically than the embrace with his friend outside.

“Missed you, Bam,” Boyd says, pulling back and looking at the guy with a satisfied smile. Then he lifts a hand and taps his cheek in a gesture that’s equal parts affection and irritation.

“What about me?” comes a sassy voice from my right, one of the other two at the table.

“Shut up, Bells,” the guy says. “Not everything is about you.”

“Um, have you met me? Of course everything is about me,” she sasses back, a wide smile on her face.

The loud guy—Boyd’s brother, Bishop, I’m assuming—and the sassy girl—who I’m guessing is his sister Bellamy—both wrap Boyd in a group hug. Boyd pretends to not want the embrace from either of them, his vocal protests not matching the expression on his face that says he’s loving every minute of his siblings’ attention.

“I’m glad you decided to join us instead of staying home to do something lame like nuking pizza and napping on the couch.”

Boyd chuckles then turns his attention my way.

“Guys,” he says, stepping back to my side and resting a hand at the base of my spine to urge me closer to the table, “this is Ruby. Ruby, these are the twins, Bellamy and Bishop. They’re pure trouble, and you’re much better off not knowing them.”

“Hey!” Bellamy protests as she returns to her seat.

“That is completely false, Miss Ruby. Don’t believe a word he’s said about us.”

Bishop steps forward and extends a hand to me, and when I take it, he kisses the back, giving me a mischievous grin.

“And the ladies call me Bam.”

I laugh, loving the teasing interaction and understanding what Boyd meant on the plane when he said his siblings like to poke at him all the time.

“Nice to meet you both.”

Boyd clears his throat, his attention shifting to the other woman at the table, a beautiful blonde with big breasts and a sultry stare.

“And this is Corinne, an old friend of the family.”

“Oh, come on, Boyd—we’re much more than that,” she says, her voice thick with something that causes my spine to straighten.

Corinne hops up from her stool next to Bellamy and rounds the table to wrap her arms around Boyd, her hands flattening against his back and stroking up and down in a way that’s more than a smidge over the line of friendship.

Boyd hugs Corinne back, but there is a stiffness to his body that reflects his discomfort.

“Boyd and I were high school sweethearts back in the day,” she says to me, keeping her hands on his waist as she looks up at him with a dreamy expression.

I’m a little surprised at her nerve, especially when she doesn’t know who I am. Not that I’m Boyd’s girlfriend. For all I know based on the way he introduced me outside, I’m not even his date, but Corinne probably doesn’t know that.

The entire interaction strikes me as odd. Maybe it’s the desperation rolling off of her? Or the overly seductive attitude that doesn’t seem to fit? I don’t know enough information—any information, actually—to make any judgments.

Corinne looks in my direction and gives me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes then rounds the table and sidles back up next to Bellamy, taking her tall cocktail in hand and sipping slowly from the straw.

There’s a silence that lingers just a few seconds too long until Bishop and Boyd start talking about the flight into Sacramento. Boyd pulls me up next to him, probably trying to include me, but my eyes and attention stray away from where he’s talking with his brother, drawn over to where Corinne sits staring at me.

Even when Bellamy says something in her ear, she only nods, not responding and keeping her eyes locked with mine.

It feels like a challenge, somehow, like a dare. It picks at the insecure part of me, the bit of me that never feels like I amount to enough in the eyes of others, the part of me I’ve been working really hard at letting go.

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