Page 127 of Love Me Reckless

Kirilee steps back to let us inside.

She slides her hand into mine as Sheldon slips into the house, where Carson has Tara cornered in the kitchen, a bag of groceries behind her on the counter. His hands rest on her hips and her arms are draped around his neck. She laughs at something he says, throwing her head back. Brody is doing pull-ups on the bar installed in the bathroom doorway down the hall, his exhales a chorus of wheezing grunts over the sound coming from the TV.

Situation normal. Only… not.

“Are we staying for dinner?” Kirilee asks.

“Is that okay?”

“Of course,” she replies, giving me a curious look.

I’m torn between wanting to whisk her away from here and the risks Sheldon represents and sticking around so I can protect my friends. Because Sheldon wouldn’t think twice about stealing from them if he got the chance.

I wish I could warn them. I wish I could get Shel to leave without raising the alarm. Instead, he’s going to charm his way into their good graces, only to betray them somehow.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

To channel my frustration, I volunteer to get working on dinner. I’m chopping like a madman when Carson slides over to me.

“Is it true she ditched her own wedding last weekend? You don’t have to tell me, but Tara is going apeshit.”

“It’s true.”

“With you?”

“Yeah.”

He exhales into his cheeks, eyes wide. “And nobody’s chopped off your nuts yet?”

“Not yet.”

He glances over his shoulder to where Sheldon and Brody are talking and watching the last of the basketball game, their backs to us. “You don’t seem too happy he’s here.”

“It’s just, um, been awhile.” I set aside the sliced peppers and start in on the carrots. “What did he tell you?”

“He drove down through Canada. Wanted to surprise you.”

If this is true, where is his car? “Huh.”

During dinner, Sheldon’s a model citizen, laughing at my friends’ jokes, using the impeccable manners we were raised with to impress. After we finish eating, Sheldon rolls up his sleeves and makes a big show of starting the dishes but my roommates refuse. With a laugh, Shel returns to the table, cracking open another beer he must have snagged from the fridge.

“What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” he asks after taking a long pull from his beer.

“Work,” I say.

“Aw, I’ve come all this way,” he protests. “You can’t take a day off?” His drinking has made him cocky.

“I could show Sheldon around tomorrow,” Kirilee says.

“No.” The word comes out firm.

“I don’t mind,” Kirilee says, shooting me a puzzled look. “I’m a good tour guide, remember?”

I think back to that first night at the vacation house, when Kirilee rattled off itineraries for each member of our group.

“Sounds good,” Sheldon says, tilting the neck of his beer in my direction. “After work we can all meet up again.”

“Wonderful,” Kirilee says.

---