Page 70 of Forever Golden

“What?”

“Just wondering if you’re positive he’s buying into that whole‘at our best when we’re friends’theory you just mentioned. Because from the outside looking in, it looks like he’s still got it pretty bad for you. I mean, West sure as hell thinks he does.”

I open and close my mouth several times before actual words come out. “Okay, so we didn’t make the cleanest break, but I’ve moved on. I just have faith that, one day, Ricky will find someone who helps him move on, too.”

She’s still giving me a look, but this time it shifts into a laugh. “Whatever you say, heartbreaker.”

I shove her a little and her laugh dulls into a thoughtful smile.

I know talking things out with me hasn’t miraculously solved all her problems, but I hope she at least feels less alone. At the end of the day, our entire crew can attest to having a less than perfect homelife. The only difference is, until a week ago, Joss had no idea that was the case.

We all needed this getaway, and we can only hope the tiny fires we left behind in Cypress Pointe don’t turn into full raging blazes while we’re away.

Chapter 25

BLUE

So, this is what family looks like.

I scan the yard, looking at maybe fifty or sixty of the triplets’ relatives. The closest thing I’ve experienced to this is the one and only family reunion I ever attended. And with the Riley name attached to it, it’s safe to assume it was a disaster. Long story short, Mike got drunk and fought one of his second cousins over a poker game, which then led to our entire family of five getting booted.

Luckily,thisgathering is nothing like that.

All I see are people having fun. There’s good music, lots of laughter, and enough food to feed a moderately sized country. Most are congregating around one of the five bonfires to keep cozy, but fifty-five degrees feels like a heat wave after leaving Cypress Pointe. It warmed up to around seventy this afternoon, and some of that heat stuck around for the evening. Almost like this gathering was meant to be.

From the moment we came down to join the party, West’s great-aunt Sheryl seemed to flock to the girls and me. We claimed a table not too far from a stone fountain, chatting about everything from TV to our plans after college.

Her plug for West and I to have our future wedding here at Landry Manor—her idea, not mine—was less than subtle. Apparently, she considers herself to be intuitive when it comes to love matches, and she got good vibes from Joss and I for her great-nephews, despite Joss insisting her and Dane aren’t a thing. Eventually, she gave up protesting and just listened to Aunt Sheryl go on about how it’s been years since the family’s hosted a wedding here, and how they’re notoriously grand events that arenotto be missed. Who knows, maybe she’ll get her wish one day.

A feather-light touch against the side of my neck startles me. What I find when I peer up is West’s emerald stare. It’s warm and relaxed. I swear I love what this place does to him. He’s perfect back home, but in Cypress Pointe, he carries an invisible weight on his shoulders, feeling pressured to live up to an idea of who peoplethinkhe is. But here? He’s simply Boone Landry’s oldest grandson.

Not a football star.

Not Vin’s son.

Just West, which is more than enough for me.

“Mind if I steal the girls for a few, Aunt Sheryl?”

She beams, hearing West’s polite request. “Of course not. I’ve talked their ears off long enough.”

He offers her a kind smile that she returns.

“Sterling texted that our cousins just pulled up and they’re itching to meet you three,” he explains with a laugh. “Apparently, Grandpa talked you ladies up pretty good.”

Oh, great. Gotta love being under a microscope.

“Dane and Sterling are already down there waiting,” he adds.

I glance toward Aunt Sheryl. “We’ll be back if we can break free,” I joke, starting to feel just a bit guilty for leaving mid-conversation.

She smiles and waves me in West’s direction. “Go have fun, honey. But trust me, those boys won’t let you pretty gals get away once they have you. Which brings me to my next point—keep an eye on your sister.” She laughs, but I don’t.

When Joss and I pass a look toward Scar, her brow lifts and she offers an innocent grin. It’s hard to tell if it’s sincere or not.

“They can’t be that bad,” I say, but the look Aunt Sheryl and West share says otherwise.

“How old are they?” Joss asks.

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