Page 138 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

Sidney has no chill. We’re not even out of the car and he’s already rushing down the front steps to greet us. “Hi Violet, hi Skye. Can I help bring anything in?”

“I have a meat and cheese tray in the trunk and dessert.”

“You didn’t need to bring anything but your beautiful self and a bathing suit.” He kisses me on the cheek. “I hope you brought your suit, too.” He smiles at Violet.

She pushes her glasses up her nose. “I did. You have a lovely house. From the outside. I’m guessing the inside will be the same because it wouldn’t make much sense to have a house this nice with insides that resemble a meth lab.”

Sidney chuckles. “It’s a bit of a man cave.”

“Makes sense since you’re a man.” Violet shoulders her bag and grabs mine too so I can bring in the cheese tray and Sidney can bring in the dessert.

“These look amazing. What’s the dessert?”

“It’s a lactose-free, red velvet cake.”

I ordered the cheese tray and dessert from a small independently run caterer who lets me bring in my own serving dishes. It makes me look like I put in the effort. She also carries a wide variety of lactose-free cheeses so Violet and I can indulge without living in the bathroom for the next three days. I’m not the best cook in the world, but Violet and I get by. Salad is a big winner in the summer in our house because it’s hard to screw up.

Sidney ushers us inside. “Don’t bother taking off your shoes. We’ll head to the backyard. Miller’s already out there.” He sets the dessert on the counter. “All his friends call him Buck, though, so he might want you to call him that instead, Violet.”

“Is it his middle name?” Violet asks.

“No, just a nickname he picked up in hockey and it seems to have stuck.” He puts the beer in the fridge and takes the cheese tray from me. “This is the kitchen, and there’s a powder room down the hall. We have a pool house out back where you can change into your suit when you’re ready,” he tells Violet.

He motions for us to follow him, his smile wide, if not a little nervous.

“This house is really, really nice, Mom,” Violet whispers.

“It is,” I agree.

The living room boasts a dark leather couch and two club chairs. One wall contains framed pictures of Sidney with various hockey players, possibly all the ones he’s scouted throughout his career. Most of them seem to be signed by the players. A huge flatscreen TV takes up the wall across from the couch, and under that is a gas burning fireplace. The whole room screams man-sporty.

Violet nearly trips on her way outside, but I grab her arm to keep her from going down.

Siphoning leaves out of the pool with a net is Miller.

He’s dressed in a t-shirt with a hockey logo, board shorts and a baseball cap. He looks like any teenage boy, except broader. The kid is nearly as thick as his dad and he’s only seventeen.

Sidney and I exchange nervous smiles. It doesn’t matter how into each other we are, we can’t take it to the next level if our kids don’t mesh.

Chapter Thirteen

Stepsister Potential

Miller

I glance up at the sound of the screen door sliding closed. This is it. The big introduction. I’m about to meet my dad’s girlfriend’s teenage daughter. This could go one of two ways; good or not good.

The first thing I notice about Skye and Violet is that they’re basically carbon copies of each other. Except Violet is a little shorter than her mom. And obviously younger. They have the same long, dark, wavy hair. The same body type. The same mannerisms, even.

I set the net in the holder and wipe my hands on my shorts. Dad smiles as I approach, but he’s doing that thing where he taps on his leg, a sure sign he’s nervous. That makes two of us.

“Hi Skye, you look nice today,” I say.

“Hi Miller, thank you.” Skye looks just as nervous as my dad, and her eyes keep darting to her daughter. “Miller, this is my daughter, Violet. Violet, this is Miller, Sidney’s son. He’s in high school, too.”

Violet lifts her hand in an awkward wave, then pushes her glasses up her nose. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”

I wave back. “Yeah. You, too.” I wish my best friend wasn’t already in training camp this summer. He’s ultra-smooth with the ladies where I’m not. Not that I need to be smooth with my maybe-future-stepsister, but not awkward would be a good start.

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