Page 80 of Thornhill Road

His warning gave me pause.

I remembered how he hadn’t allowed Mary-Kate to open the door without him when it had been Winnie on the other side.I figured he was just being a protective dad. Right then, I understood it was more than that. I didn’t know if club business had ever found its way to his doorstep—but I did what I was told.

Before I twisted the locks, I checked the peephole.

The sight of my brother, in a crisp tee tucked into his fatigue pants, like he’d left the base and came straight to visit me, made me giddy.

I squealed as I opened the door and launched myself at him.

“Hi!”

Startled, he took a couple steps back so as not to lose his balance, then wrapped his arms around me with a chuckle.

“Hey, sis.”

I breathed him in—closing my eyes at the familiar scent of fresh rain laundry detergent and Old Spice aftershave, just like dad used to wear.

“Missed you.”

“Was only gone three weeks, Tess.”

I pulled away from him with a scowl. “Overseas for three weeks, sure. But I haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving.”

Having said the words, I got a good look at him.

His hair was like mine, only more blond, and he wore it cropped short. He wasn’t particularly tall, but he was taller than me, and he was still as toned and fit as ever. His dark brown eyes were smiling, and I knew he was only teasing.

“So, did you just get back? How are you here? I thought you’d call when you returned to the states.”

“Got back last night. We were routed through Cheyenne. We’ll take the plane back south Monday. Got permission to make the trek up here to see my baby sister.”

I took hold of either side of his clean-shaven face and gushed, “Best surprise ever.”

He only grinned and shook his head at me. “Drove up here without stopping. You mentioned breakfast?”

“Yeah. Come in.” I turned to lead him inside then immediately changed my mind. Spinning back around, I stuck a finger in his chest, raised my eyebrows, and warned, “Be nice.”

He smirked, I rolled my eyes, then turned to lead him inside.

Needless to say, I didn’t have time to prepare either man for their introduction to one another. I didn’t even feel quite prepared myself. Mustang knew I had a brother in the Air Force, and Andy knew I had a type when it came to the men I dated—but seeing the two of them occupy the same room was surreal.

When Andy and I reached the kitchen, Mustang had already filled three plates with scrambled eggs and bacon. Two of the plates included a double stack of toast. This made me smile, and I went to stand next to him as I began introductions.

“Andy, this is Mustang. Mustang, meet my brother.”

“Hey,” my man said as he extended his hand.

Andy accepted the gesture, clearly eyeing the extent of ink on display up the length of Mustang’s arm. Honestly, I thought he had plenty of room to spare, and I wouldn’t have complained if he felt inclined to fill the empty space. My brother, on the other hand, had not a drop of ink on him and was always quick to question why anyone would want something so permanent marring their skin. Even his years in the military hadn’t changed his mind about tattoos.

“Hi,” was his simple reply.

I nodded to myself as the realization struck that I was obviously going to have to carry the conversation.

“Who wants coffee?” I asked, headed for the cabinet which housed Mustang’s small collection of mugs.

A couple minutes later, we sat together at the kitchen table, and I managed to steer the conversation while we ate. I asked how Andy’s drive had been, and we talked about my schedule over the next couple of days. I wondered if there was anyone in Casper he might want to visit on his way back, and he told mehe was thinking of grabbing a drink with a buddy on Sunday afternoon.

Mustang was the first to have an empty plate. Andy must have seen this as his opening, because that’s when he asked, “What is it you do for a living?”

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