Page 26 of Done with You

The arrivals sign overhead called to her and Oona picked up her pace, eager to wrap her arms around Rayma and finally meet this Lassie that Rayma was madly in love with.

She was behind a few passengers, but not many. Her quick pace had her ahead of the pack. She still had to wait for her suitcase, but her eagerness to see Rayma propelled her forward.

She spotted her sister almost immediately. And not because Rayma was smiling and jumping up and down, but because she was holding a sign that said, “Welcome home from prison, Sis!” She also had an enormous, pleased-with-herself grin on her pretty face.

“Aaahhh!” Rayma squealed, handing the tall, handsome guy with the blocky shoulders and green eyes her sign, then throwing herself at Oona. “You’re here! You’re finally here!”

Oona dropped her carryon to the ground and wrapped her arms around Rayma. “I’m here, you nut.”

They held onto each other for well over a minute, each of them squeezing just a little harder until Rayma made a, “Gak” sound like Oona squeezed too hard. It was all in jest. All part of their game that had spanned decades. “Uncle. Uncle,” Rayma finally said with a laugh.

Even though they were five years apart, Oona was closest in age to Rayma. They’d both been oopsie babies, since Oona came four years after Mieka. And even though Oona and Rayma didn’t always have a lot in common, they bonded over the fact that they were the youngest and the last two stuck at home. Their “love you more” game started when Oona was seven and Rayma was two. Whoever cried “uncle” first, when they hugged and squeezed each other, loved the other one less.

“I win,” Oona said, letting go of Rayma and pulling away, smiling. “I love you more.”

Rayma merely beamed, as beautiful and radiant as ever. Probably more so because her life was on track and she was in love.

“You finally get to meet Lassie,” Rayma said. “Since he couldn’t make it out to Triss’s wedding.” She elbowed him. “Something about being a team player and a man of the law, blah, blah, blah.”

The man she called Lassie rolled his green eyes before sticking out his hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Oona.”

They shook hands and smiled, but Lassie’s attention was pulled to something over Oona’s shoulder.

His mouth split into an even bigger smile. He dropped her hand and stepped to the side. “Aiden.”

Aiden?

“Little brother,” the smoky voice behind her said just as she turned around and watched Aiden—yes, that Aiden—embrace Lassie.

Oona blinked like she had dust in her eyes. Her heartbeat was everywhere—in her lips, her throat, her fingertips, and most definitely in her chest. Couldn’t they all hear it? It was a heavy thud of warning throughout her entire body.

This was not happening. What were the odds? Did he know all along?

“Were you guys on the same flight?” Rayma asked, entirely oblivious to the way Oona was close to having an apoplexy.

Aiden flicked his gaze to Oona, adopting a look like he’d never seen her before in his life. “Guess so.” He stuck out his hand. “Aiden Lassiter, Jordan’s older brother.”

Jordan’s. Older. Brother.

Oona’s baby sister was marrying Aiden’s baby brother?

Oh, fate, you fucking bitch.

She took his hand, and the zap of electricity that ran up from their clasped palms right to her clit was like a bolt of lightning. She yanked her hand back and shook it out.

“You okay?” Rayma asked, tucking her long caramel-colored hair with the blonde balayage behind her ears. She rubbed Oona’s back affectionately. “Hungry?”

Now that she thought about it, yeah, she was a little hungry. But that wasn’t what was making her lightheaded.

The look burning in Aiden’s eyes—the identical shade of green to Jordan’s—was equal parts amused as it was intense. Like he was daring her to tell them the truth, but also daring her to grab him by the scruff of his shirt and kiss him.

“Let’s order a pizza and pick it up on the way home,” Rayma said, turning to Jordan. “I stopped and grabbed wine after work.”

“I don’t drink,” Aiden said quickly.

Rayma’s brows shot up, but only for a second, then she shrugged. “More for me.” Her nose wrinkled. “What do you drink? I’m happy to stop if it’s something specific.”

“Water is good,” he said casually.

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