Page 62 of Hold You Close
Morgan giggles and Christopher lets out a whistle. Ian and I break apart and my face is hot from embarrassment.
“That is how you kiss a girl.” Ian nods once at Christopher.
Oh, dear God. “Please don’t listen to a single thing your uncle says about dating. He’s really very bad at it, and his learning curve is not a path you want to follow.”
“What?” Ian is outraged.
“Seriously,” Morgan agrees. “Remember Mom always said Uncle Ian needed a whole lot of help when it came to girls? I think she was right.”
“Hey,” he protests.
“What? You’re kind of a mess.” Morgan shrugs.
“You’re kind of a pain in the ass. Anyone ever tell you that, kid?”
“Daily,” Morgan says with pride.
At least she owns it. Morgan has always been an old soul. It’s probably why I’ve always loved spending time with her, even when she was little. Christopher was always into sports and definitely related to David and Ian. They were always watching a game of some sort, while Morgan wanted to discuss the news. And she’s a numbers girl, which is definitely something we share.
Ruby is the total dress-up girly-girl. I’m not sure how the hell I’ll find a way to relate to her as she grows up. I don’t care about designer clothes, jewelry, or makeup. I like nice things, but I’ve never been materialistic. Not that I think Ruby will always keep the same interests she has at five, but she loves to do things that Morgan never did.
“All right, enough about me, let’s get going, we have a lot of ground to cover,” Ian says.
Christopher grabs my bag, and we all start to walk. I place my hand on Ian’s arm. “Thank you for this. It was really sweet.”
He gives me one of his cocky grins. “I’m a sweet guy.”
“You’re something, all right.”
“I promised you things would change. I thought a lot about you when you were gone, and I don’t want things to go the way they have before, Lon.”
“I don’t either.”
I want more. I want Ian and me to have a real shot at something, if it’s possible. There’s a deep history between us, but that’s also the scary part. What if things don’t work out? What do we do about the kids? I can’t imagine my life without them in it, and he’s their guardian. Do I think he’d keep them from me? No. But he could.
His hand cups my cheek. “I meant what I said before you left. You might think I’ve charmed you before, but you haven’t seen anything yet. I hope you’re ready.”
My throat goes dry at his promise. “What if I’m not?”
He smiles down at me. “Then you better find a way—and fast.”
Fourteen
Ian
My plan is simple. Get London to let her freaking steel walls down and see that I’m a good guy.
That’s it.
How the fuck I plan to do that? Not a clue.
The entire weekend I tried to remember any stupid detail my sister had rambled on about when it came to London. Of course, I had purposely tuned out anyone talking when her name came up to avoid feelings I didn’t want to feel, so I had to get creative.
Things London likes: cats, terrible music, numbers, boring shit about business, and sun. I see her sitting out on her deck all the time, a book in her hand, those long bare legs stretched out on a deck chair, her horrible 90s boy-band music playing. I swear to God, London has good taste when it comes to many things, but music is not one of them. She and Sabrina used to drive me crazy playing that shit twenty-four hours a day.
But today is all about getting her to see me in a new light, so I’ve loaded up a London Playlist with all kinds of crap by bands like N’Sync, Backstreet Boys, and Four Blocks Down. I’m going to indulge her in every way possible.
Even if my eardrums suffer for it. Mightily.
