Page 15 of Come Back to Me

“That’s worse!”

“Nah.” I smile at her. “You forget, he’s ex-RCAF.”

“You and soldiers.” She groans.

I blow her a raspberry even though she’s partially right and partially wrong.

Butch might have broken soldiers for me.

Just something else to lay at his door…

Tee

BILLIONAIRE MOGUL APPEARS IN COURT ON HIT & RUN CAUSING DEATH CHARGES!

My grandmother’s nose wrinkles as she scans the newspaper that put the Korhonen household on red alert over breakfast, but it’s Anthony, my brother, who knocks the headline with his knuckle. “Are you safe at the Seven Cs?”

I gape at him all while severely regretting the dumb decision to visit my family for lunch today. “Clyde’s?—”

“Probably posting bail as we speak,” he says dryly.

“You don’t think he’ll return to town, do you?” Mom frets, making me want to flick Tony’s nose so hard it’ll collide with his pea brain.

“Of course he won’t. Colt won’t stand for that, and neither will the rest of them. I’m telling you they hate him more than anyone.”

(Harsh but fair. I don’t even know all the stories, but that Clyde’s a C-U-N-T is a given.)

“Even the husband of the woman he murdered?”

“I hate you,” I hiss.

He taunts, “You could move in with us until you find someplace for yourself in town.”

I should so have stayed at the ranch.

But, there I was, happily about to devour some of Mrs. Abelman’s famous jam and an English muffin as the family dealt with the fallout from Clyde’s hit and run causing death charge, and my conscience struck.

It’s been three weeks since Colton made his offer to let me live on the Korhonen ranch, three weeks since he hired people to pack up my apartment in NYC, and I’d yet to drop by to hang out with the fam.

I knew I should have stuck to my breakfast treat.

“Tony, I knew you were an idiot, but that confirms it. You really did save up all the IQ points for me, huh, Mom?”

“Your ego’s still as big as your head, I see.”

At my brother’s sniff, I hoot. “That’s the crappiest insult I’ve ever heard. And I’m best friends with Zee, who thinks a comeback is a sassy flick of her hair.”

Nonna cackles. “Tell the girl to come visit. She hasn’t been around since she moved back.”

“Tried to get her to come today but she’s still uncomfortable here.”

Mom clucks her tongue as she serves me an extra-large portion of baked ziti. “Who can blame her? It doesn’t compute that we were the only ones who believed in her. There’s always been people who had a bee in their bonnet about the McAllisters.” She tsks. “Small-minded idiots.”

Though I love her for defending my BFF, I eye the crater-sized helping of ziti on a plate I’ve already cleared twice. “Mom, I know you think I lost weight when I was in New York, but I didn’t.”

(A lie, but I’m stuffed.)

It’s telling that my brother’s a jackass but he’s been raised around enough women to know that that is a comment he shouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.

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