Page 25 of Stealing Home

Griffin cracks his knuckles. “There are always ways to convince him to sign.”

“I’d like to try a non-violent method first,” I say.

“Boring, but have it your way,” Griffin teases.

“So, this is what having a big brother would be like,” I mumble.

“Did I hear someone was picking on my baby sister?” Liam shouts from the bay.

Wren winces. “Speaking of big brothers.” She nudges Griffin to go. “You better talk him down. One Hale man scaring a ten-year-old is plenty.”

“You’re both lame. I’m going to go do manly things with tools since neither of you appreciate my communication style,” he jokes.

I raise my eyebrow once he’s gone. “His communication style?”

“Violence,” she deadpans. “At least that’s what he thinks. He’s more protective than he is violent. Don’t worry about them. We’ll have a bonfire tomorrow, which means he and Liam will have to chop a bunch of wood. That ought to wear them out.”

* * *

Spendingthe evening with Wren’s family is a lovely distraction. The kids fill the home with joyful noise. Griffin gets to work cooking dinner while Wren gets the kids settled down with their homework. Once they’re busy, she offers to help, but he kicks her out of the kitchen.

“He cooks too?” I ask, surprised.

Griffin hears me from the open concept kitchen and living area. “I love my wife to death, but she can burn water.”

“It’s true. He tried to teach me, but I’m afraid I’m hopeless,” she admits.

“I could teach you,” I offer.

“Really?”

I shrug. “I like to cook. We can make it a girl’s night in and see what Bess is doing.”

Wren starts to wiggle. “Ooh, we can have Dolores teach us some of her secrets too.”

Griffin moans. “Learn how to make her muffins. I don’t care if you never learn to make a single thing besides those.”

My phone starts to buzz on top of the coffee table, and I realize I forgot to let Scott know I’m safe and staying with Wren.

“Hey, I forgot to tell you—”

“Where the hell are you?” I almost drop my phone hearing Nando screaming at me from the other end of the line.

“Nando,” I gasp.

“Who the hell else would be calling you? Where are you? I came home to an empty house, no dinner on the table, and we’re out of beer.”

My anger gets the best of me as usual, but this time he can’t retaliate with physical intimidation. “Hmm, let me take a page out of your book.” I imitate his voice, “Don’t wait up. As for your dinner, you have two hands, make yourself something. I never signed up to be your slave.”

“You are my wife, this is your job.” I can tell he’s sneering at me by the sound of his voice, full of derision and loathing.

“Marriage isn’t a job, at least it’s not supposed to be. I can tell you’re in a mood tonight, so I’m going to crash at a friend’s house.”

“What friend? You don’t have friends,” he snaps.

“How would you know? You know nothing about me, because you never ask.”

“Get your ass back home now, or I promise you’re going to regret disrespecting me like this,” he threatens.

---