Page 62 of The Winslow Brothers

Ty: Are you serious, Flynn? Aren’t you supposed to be the voice of reason?

Flynn: Says the man who’s talking about hiding bodies.

Ty: Whatever, dude. I’ll help Win bury you both.

Remy: I’ll be there at seven.

Ty: You too??

Me: Fuck yes. That’s what I like to hear, boys. See you then.

Plan successfully achieved, I click out of my messages, shove my phone into my pocket, grab my keys off the hook, and head out the door. One quick stop at the grocery store and then Uptown to my sister’s house.

It’s fifteen minutes before seven, and I’m not at all expected, but I ring the doorbell anyway and stand back and wait to be greeted.

I figured the least I could do for my two eldest brothers in appreciation of their loyalty was to show up first, help Winnie get over her initial anger, and welcome them with open arms and smooth sailing upon their arrival.

The light on the porch flicks on above me, and I plaster on my most charming of smiles.

There’s a slight squeak as the door swings open, and Wes’s face stutters to a scowl as soon as he sees me. I don’t let it discourage me, though. People glower at me all the time, to be honest, and I don’t give a shit. I’m not about to start now.

“Wes!” I greet cheerfully, holding my sack of groceries up and out to the side. “How are you, bro?”

“What the hell are you doing here, Jude?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know my wife told you that family night is on Friday.”

“She did,” I agree, stepping forward and crowding him out of the doorway so I can step inside. It’s a bit of a dick move, and on any normal day, Wes Lancaster could do some damage to me if he wanted to, but I’m counting on the element of surprise to throwhim off his game. “And then I responded that I’m unavailable and that I’d like to reschedule.”

I shrug, turning back to look at him from my place inside the front hallway, having successfully infiltrated behind his line of defense.

“Jude—”

“Thanks so much, Wes,” I say in avoidance. “But I think I can handle carrying everything.”

There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that offering to help me with the groceries is even remotely close to what was about to come out of Wes’s mouth, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I beat him to the punch.

Lexi appears at the bottom of the staircase, spotting me easily as I pass her by and immediately questioning my presence. “Uncle Jude? What are you doing here?”

“Making dinner,” I say, smiling and waggling my eyebrows. “I got all the stuff for your favorite.”

“Spaghetti?” she asks hopefully, and I nod.

“You bastard,” Wes mutters under his breath, and I can’t stop myself from looking back at him and winking. I may be the goofball of the Winslow clan, but that doesn’t mean I’m a fool. The way to the heart is always with food, and the best heart to infiltrate is the one the others can’t stand to deny.That of their beautiful baby girl.

Continuing into the kitchen, I find Winnie at the counter, looking through takeout menus intently. She glances up at thesound of my entrance, spots the bag of groceries, and damn near growls.

“You’vegotto be kidding me.”

“Now, now,” I soothe, setting the bags on the counter and raising my hands in the air defensively. “I know this looks bad, but I promise I heard you about the cooking. I don’t expect you to cook at all, I swear.”

“And who’s going to? You?” She does a half scoff, half laugh that doesn’t really offend me in the slightest. I’m definitely not the chef in the family, but I’m a single dude and I survive. So, whatever.

I shake my head. “I called in reinforcements.”

“What are—” she starts to ask, just as the front doorbell rings again.

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