Page 26 of Starts With a Bang

I knew the moment he woke up, even though he hadn’t made a sound. Something stirred, an energy that was uniquely Sven and more addictive than alcohol or drugs. He was offering me everything I’d craved for two years, and though I agreed to thefree-for-all he’d insisted on, I’d have to be a little nuts not to worry about the fallout.

Sven pulled his hand free, and I turned to look at him. He cupped my face and brushed his thumb over my scruffy chin. “Are you still in love with Emerson?”

“I’m not.”

He searched my gaze for a few moments, then nodded. “Then let’s get this awkward initial greeting over with so we can slink off to our suite for some naked exploration.” He kissed me one more time before he removed his seat belt and reached for the door handle.

“Don’t you want to ask me questions about my family?”

“I did plenty of research over the past two weeks and feel like I have a good read on everyone.”

I quirked a brow. “I’d love to hear your analysis.”

Sven laughed and shook his head. “Is this a delay tactic?”

“Only partially.”

“Okay. Here are my deductions.” Sven cleared his throat dramatically before continuing. “Your parents are madly in love with each other. They are best friends who do everything together. Molly and Dominic Sr. are smiling or laughing in every photo they post on social media.”

“They have a lot of fun together,” I admitted.

“John and Janet Carmichael are the polar opposite. Woof.” Sven grimaced apologetically until I nodded my agreement. “I think your Aunt Janet is devastatingly unhappy, and she is possibly a borderline alcoholic.”

My mouth fell open in shock. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Besides the constant presence of alcoholic beverages in her hand, you mean? Alcohol abuse wreaks havoc on a person’s face. She thinks her photos depict a perfect marriage, but your uncle comes across as an unwilling participant at best and a prisonerat worst. The man looks like he would chew his own ankle off at any minute to escape her. I wouldn’t be surprised if golf isn’t his only mistress.”

I stared unblinkingly at Sven until the stretched silence made him squirm.

“Did I go too far?”

I shook my head slowly. “No, I’m amazed. You formed those conclusions just from scrolling through their social media accounts?”

Sven nodded. “I focused on what their posts didn’t say instead of what they’d written.” His brain fascinated me as much as his banging body.

“Give me an example,” I nudged.

“Okay.” Sven pursed his lips and stared out the windshield as he pondered his response. He cleared his throat when he was ready and met my gaze again. “We’ll start with your parents because they’re the easiest. I have an unfair advantage here because Lucinda is friends with your mom, but I didn’t need any help from her to know that your parents are the real deal.”

“They are,” I agreed. “Tell me how you know that.”

“I already remarked on the laughing and smiling pictures, which was my first clue. Nothing is ever forced, and sometimes their photos aren’t very flattering. The selfies are typically off-center or out of focus because they were too busy looking at one another. Often, one of them is mostly cropped out of the photo. Sometimes your mom’s hair is a hot mess, and your dad’s clothes are often disheveled. And I think he has a bad habit of dribbling food onto his shirt. None of that stuff matters to them. They only care about how the moment makes them feel. And they share their beautiful joy with the people they love. Their posts are pure and reactive instead of phony and curated.”

“Wow,” I whispered.

Sven continued without acknowledging my admiration. “Their pictures grabbed my attention, but their written posts were just as revealing,” Sven said.

“Do tell.”

“I considered what they were smiling and laughing about in the photos with their windblown hair and stained clothes. They’d found weirdly shaped—often phallic-looking foods. They’d stumbled across something that reminded them of a private joke that always made them laugh. Sometimes it was a pretty rock on a hike, and once, a tumbleweed nearly took out your dad.”

“Those things are so much bigger than you imagine,” I said.

Sven smiled. “That’s what your dad commented on your mom’s post.”

I laughed. “This apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”

“I could go on,” Sven said.

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