Page 43 of On a Fault Line

“Sheesh, Claire,” I yelp, covering my ears. “You know I’m related to him, right?”

She manages to look sheepish. “Sorry. But for reals though, anytime I venture out without him for a few hours, it makes him extra frisky. And with all these pregnancy hormones, I need to entice him before he starts to worry about my ‘condition.’ His word, not mine. I mean, if he’s labeling my”—she adds air quotes—“conditionas being horny, sign me up.”

I glance to Collins who has the decency to pretend he’s temporarily deaf. He’s good at being situationally blind too—when it suits him.

When we get to the getaway vehicle, the girls take up the back seat, leaving me riding shotgun in front. I’m not sure I want to be this close to the man who continues to drive me wild. I’m already nervous in his presence while in public, and after all the intimate moments we’ve shared thus far, my body and mind can’t help but want to find that same comfort from him, despite who is watching.

My hands twist in my lap as Collins expertly pulls out of his parking spot, up the ramp, and exits onto the busy street. He drives north toward the Pearl District, not offering up any type of conversation other than a grunt here and there as Claire dictates directions from the back seat.

I really don’t know what to expect from today’s shopping trip, but I know that it’ll be interesting at the very least.

“Stop there,” Claire shouts, nearly jumping into the front seat with us. “The little boutique on the left.”

“Got it,” he says, parallel parking with ease.

I have yet to give driving a go but doubt I’ll ever be as smooth as Collins behind the wheel. Does the man do anything half-assed?

Angie is out of the car first, getting scolded by Collins. At least I’m not the only one he overreacts with in regard to that. He ushers her to the sidewalk, helps pull Claire out, and then glares at me when I’m already joining the girls without his stamp of approval.

Too bad.

“You need to dial back the testosterone,” I grumble, staying back a few paces while Angie and Claire choose the first store.

“Or what?” he challenges. His facial expression gives nothing away.

Why is he looking so hangry? Maybe we should stop for lunch first before he sinks his teeth into our impulsive plans.

“Or you’ll have an aneurysm from whatever passive-aggressive shit you have going on inside your head. I don’t even understand why you’re in a bad mood right now. If you didn’t want to babysit us, then why volunteer?”

Collins’s eyes darken, causing my heart to pause in rhythm. “Is this what you think I’m doing? Babysitting?”

I shrug, while still trying to keep pace with the girls. “There’s no part of this job that even remotely looks enjoyable to you right now, so yeah.”

“Being of service to your brothers is honorable in my eyes. So, while I wouldn’t call thisfunbeing out in public trying to act normal around you, I would call it part of the job—that I would like to keep.”

I direct my attention in front of me, as Claire enters into what appears to be a custom lingerie shop. Welp, this should be fun.

“You can’t possibly think this is a normal way to interact with me. If you act any colder toward me, they will know something is off.”

Claire holds the door for me to enter, followed by a rigid-looking Collins. He looks about as comfortable as a cow visiting a slaughterhouse.

The girls flank me, as we meander through the store.

Glancing around the space, it’s easy to tell that there is something here for every taste. There are items with sparkles, lace, silk, cotton, and leather.

“Can I help you ladies find anything?” a tall middle-aged worker asks. She is stunning in a pencil skirt and lace-up tank that I’m sure are both sold here. There’s no better way to show off the merchandise than to have the employees wear it during their work shift.

“We are just trying to find outfits for our next Girls’ Night Out,” Angie shares.

Claire leans toward the worker and lowers her voice to a whisper, “Which happens to be at a strip club.”

“Oh, fun.”

“So, the spicier the better.” Claire nudges the worker. “If ya know what I mean.”

“Well, you ladies have come to the right place. We actually have our new naughty collection upstairs that hasn’t even hit the main floor yet. Would you be interested in?—”

“Yes!” we chant, making Collins close his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.

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