Page 32 of Perfect Storm

“Sandy I presume?”

“Oh yeah, she made a point of letting us know she’s in charge of the music.”

I grin. “Has Jenna gotten anything else out of her yet?”

“Nothing, she’s a vault.”

“Sometimes I think Sandy wishes he was her son-in-law.”

“Fuck you.” Adam punches my biceps. He knows I’m joking. “She’s more like his partner in crime than anything else,” he says.

“Have you told her about the baby?”

“No, I meant to say, keep it under your hat for now. We were gonna tell the family all together, but that was before we knew Sandy was here. Jenna wants to tell her at some point tonight.”

“Well, it won’t stay a secret for long,” I point out.

He agrees.

We head back over to where everyone is sitting, laughing, and chatting. They all seem relaxed, enjoying the atmosphere. Even Brooke has a lazy grin on her face as she sips her gin and tonic.

No one seems to be guessing anymore. Everyone resigned to the fact Jordan and Alessa will let us know their scheme in their own time.

I notice Ciro sitting on the edge of a sofa. He’s beside Nash and Jack. They’ve been talking amongst themselves, but he keeps staring off into the distance.

I bristle a little. I don’t really know the guy, I never attempted to talk to him. I’m happy to throw myself into the crowd and chat with anyone, but not him.

Brooke never went into detail and fuck knows I don’t need her to. Knowing a guy hanging around with your group has fucked your girlfriend is super fucking weird.

Brooke never gave me a reason to believe there was more to it. She has no lingering feelings.

In fact, I feel sorry for the guy. I know what it’s like to be loved by Brooke. To be that lucky asshole she wants to spend her time with.

I don’t know Ciro’s feelings on the matter. He’s kept his distance, and I’ve only noticed him look at Brooke once. There is nothing concerning about the way he looks at her. But fuck him if that changes. I’ll kick his ass if he tries anything with her.

“Sandy, how much longer are we going to be kept in suspense?” I ask, pushing thoughts of Ciro bedding my woman aside. “The asshole intending to eat with us. Show his face even?”

“Is that any way to speak of your host?”

Everyone whirls around to the doors of the ranch.

“Called it,” I shout and high five Brooke, who is sitting beside me.

Nick is laughing hysterically, and Adam’s mouth is hanging open.

Jordan isn’t wearing chaps, much to my disappointment.

He has dusty old jeans on, draped over cowboy boots. He’s wearing a blue and white checkered flannel shirt, a brown suede waistcoat and a fucking Stetson.

Alessa… just looks like Alessa, in a black top that hangs down her thighs and electric blue tights with her gray Rocket Dog boots, the laces wrapped around her ankles but untied. The only thing that isn’t normal is her smile.Thatis unusual.

There is an odd spotlight, and I can’t quite pinpoint where it’s coming from, but it’s directly on Jordan and Alessa.

“What the hell, man,” Nick says, walking over to him, taking his hat and putting it on his own head, then fist bumping our drummer.

“Gimme,” Jordan grabs the hat back and looks proud as a fucking peacock as he stuffs it back on his head. Then he looks around. “Fuck yeah, everyone is here! This is gonna be a blast.”

Nick moves around Jordan and puts his arm around Alessa in a quick one-armed crush against his side that has her smile turning into a grimace, but her eyes are still laughing. Nick knows she isn’t really angry.

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