Page 112 of Loaded

“And son?”

I turn back. “Yes?”

“If you make her cry?” He’s still beaming like he’s telling me a joke or something. “This inn sits on acres and acres of gardens. No one would ever even find where I put your body, because I’d spread it into pieces so small even a cadaver dog couldn’t find it.” He lifts both eyebrows. “We clear?”

I blink.

“Bea has been through enough misery for three lifetimes. I won’t tolerateanynonsense.”

Yeah, she basically has no connections at all. I force a smile and nod. “Right, I hear you, sir.”

He pats my shoulder. “No need to call me sir. Mister’s fine.”

I can’t tell if he’s kidding, but I can feel a bead of sweat roll down between my shoulder blades. I knew to prepare for a confrontation with the grandfather, but Ihad no idea her dad would be this scary. “No reason to worry on my account,” I say. “I love her to the moon and back.”

Dave’s smile widens. “That’s the right answer, son.”

Jake jogs over. “Did he give you the ‘my gardens are really big’ speech?” He slugs Dave on the shoulder. “That issonot as scary as you think it is. You need to rework it or something. You’re going to put poor Easton to sleep.” Jake bumps my arm and starts walking, dragging me along in his wake.

“It was actually terrifying,” I confess as we pull closer to the small cottage house.

“Oh, believe me, I know. When they brought me into the family, he gave me the same one, but about all the girls.” Jake’s eyes are dancing. “But you don’t exactly get a Doberman to stand down by telling him his growling is super effective, do you?”

Bea’s family is very strange.

She’s worth it, though.

When I follow her through the door, there’s already a full house inside. I know the youngest is her other foster brother, Killian, and I’m guessing the stoic one wearing chunky glasses is Ardath. She’s a doctor, and she stitched up Catherine Richmond at Elizabeth’s wedding, but that’s as much as I know about either of them.

“Easton, right?” Killian stands. “Good to meet you.”

“We met at Elizabeth and Emerson’s wedding,” I say.

Killian shrugs. “I mean, probably, but you were just another suit then.” He grins. “Now you’re knocking boots with my sister.” He pulls a face.

Bea squeals. “Killian McGregor, you apologize right now.” She spins around. “I’m so sorry—he’s at that stage where he’s constantly trying to horrify people.”

“He’s pretty good at it.” Jake high fives Killian.

“Jake.” Bea’s eyes are flashing, but neither of the boys looks concerned. “If you two don’t both apologize to Easton right now—we are taking things slow, and we’re being respectful.” She glares. “I’ll tell everyone about the funnel.”

Jake’s jaw drops.

Killian coughs.

“I’m sorry,” Killian blurts, and then he looks at Bea.

She frowns.

Killian continues. “Like, really sorry for being rude, dude. We chill?”

I nod.

He shoots a sideways glare at Bea, and then he darts down the hall.

“Me too,” Jake says.

“No way.” Bea folds her arms. “Actors can certainly use their words better than that. I’ll even give you your line. ‘Oh, Easton, I’m so sorry I encouraged my goofy little brother who worships me to be rude.’” She tosses her head, like she’s nudging a recalcitrant toddler to return the M&Ms he stole.

---