Page 30 of Charmed and Alarmed

“You see?” demands Sophie, perching herself on the end of the sofa beside my father and glowering down at him playfully. “Thatis an acceptable response. Meanwhile, when I suggest changing one tiny thing?—”

Dad scoffs. “You suggested painting original wood, darling. I love you, but a man has to draw the line somewhere.”

If Holden were here, he would help me mock them for being so mushy and besotted. I can imagine the look he would give me, and the warm, cozy feeling of knowing whose eyes I would meet whenever someone in my family does something ridiculous. That’s not weird, is it? To wish he was here?

“Is Mom coming to the engagement party?” I ask Honor, eager to spark a conversation that distracts me from the mess of emotions I’m experiencing toward Dad’s business partner.

She grimaces. “She and Glenda are insisting on throwing us a party there, too. So we have to go up to Denver next month. And bywe, I mean you too.”

“I’m going to be sick that day.”

Honor gives me a look. “Mom will be salty. You never visit.”

Yeah, because Mom’s newself-discoveryphase is exhausting. You can’t be a neurotic, Type-A tax attorney the entirety of your children’s lives, only to change the game when they’re adults and expect them to magically fit into this new family dynamic. Our parents, bless them, raised us to be overachievers. Now, Mom is a meditating, lesbian blueberry farmer, and Dad is probably getting ready to go for a round two family with his decidedlynottype-A girlfriend.

I sigh. “Let’s put it this way. I would rather drive back to New York, lick a subway seat, and undoubtedly contract some kind of flesh-eating plague than go to Denver.” This statement is followed with a look that dares Honor to try me. My sister purses her lips but doesn’t argue as she sinks back into the couch, curling closer to Julian.

In my pocket, my phone vibrates.

Holden: Is your thing done yet?

Family dinner? No. It is eternal. I will die here, listening to Honor question her decorating decisions and the last thing I will see in this life is Dad checking out Sophie’s ass when she gets up to pee.

Holden: Sneak out. I’ll pick you up.

I feel myself smiling as I glance up at the happy couples, both of whom are wholly consumed in each other and not paying me any attention at all. Dad and Honor will give me shit for it, but that seems worth it for spending the evening getting fucked by Holden instead ofthis.

Holden: What’s the address? I’ll text you when I’m close.

I tell him, and relax back onto the couch, much more cheerful than I was a moment ago. Only ten minutes later, just as Dad and Honor are beginning to discuss getting dinner started, my phone buzzes again.

Holden: If you walk down the driveway, you’ll see me.

Suppressing a grin with difficulty, I push to my feet with a stretch. Nobody asks where I’m going as I head for the back hallway, bypassing the bathroom door and slipping out into the garage. Honor’s fancy new SUV, which appears to be bullet proof, is parked there beside Julian’s electric car, and I stroll past both of them. As I push open the side door, however, I encounter an unexpected obstacle.

“Oh.” I blink dumbly at the security guy standing beside the structure. He’s dressed all in black, the outfit complete with a tactical belt, combat boots, intimidating muscles, and a close-cropped haircut.

He stares back at me, unsmiling. “Can I help you, Miss Vogel?”

“I’m sneaking out, actually. If they ask, will you let them know?”

The man looks like he wants to say something, but I brush past him, strolling down the same driveway where Honor and I used to ride our scooters and draw obstacle courses in chalk. My leg, which is more sore than usual since I started leaving my cane at home, throbs as I stop at the bottom of the hill.

Sure enough, Holden’s old pickup is pulled over a little ways up the street. It takes some serious effort to compose my expression as I approach, and it all goes to hell when I meet his eyes through the window. As I pull open the door and hop up on the long bench seat beside him, there is no hiding my smile.

“Princess,” he says by way of greeting, and my insides flutter as he wraps a hand around the back of my neck, pulling me in to meet his lips. I melt, my hands flying to his chest as we kiss slowly.

God, he tastes so good.

“Thank you for picking me up,” I pant, feeling a little flushed when we finally break apart. “Do I finally get to see where you live?”

Holden’s lips curve in a sly smile as he releases me and faces forward, his hand moving to turn the keys in the ignition. “Yes. You do. Though, I have to admit, I thought my days of sneaking women out of their parents’ houses were behind me.”

“Sister’s house,” I correct as I pull on my seatbelt. “Ballard is probably going to commission a naked portrait of her to hang in every room. That suggests ownership in my mind.”

Holden makes a noise like the crack of a whip, and I laugh, relaxing back into my seat as he pulls away from the curb, heading back into the more populated part of the city. I expect him to head straight to his house, which he mentioned is a few streets over from my father’s.

Instead, he pulls off. “We need to make a stop first.”

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