Page 76 of Until We're More
I supposed it was hypocritical of me to hold that against her when Dad had mostly ignored us while living under the same roof. Since Finn and I trained with him, we’d still seen him plenty. He’d driven us harder than anyone else, but it’d turned us into men, and damn good fighters.
Brooklyn and Shane came over with Finn, and everyone exchanged greetings and hugs while Mom updated us on how well her interior design business was going. Obviously that was where Brooklyn got her artistic side.
“Yeah, it was hard to get going so late in life,” Mom said, “but business is taking off, and it’s so nice to finally be doing something I love.”
Other people started filtering in, and I thought once again about how the guys and I never quite fit in at these shindigs. This gallery had a bit of an edgy vibe, which helped us not look so out of place, I supposed. Chelsea arrived at the same time as Dad, right as the art show was getting underway.
In her red dress and heels, she definitely looked like she belonged here. One corner of her mouth twisted up as she approached, and my heart took off, churning more of that addictive happiness through me.
Chelsea slid her hands up my arms and linked them behind my neck, bringing her body flush with mine, and our lips met at the halfway point.
“You look amazing,” I said, forcing myself to keep my hands in decent range.
“Thank you. You do, too.” She tugged on my tie and wound it around her hand, giving it a jerk. “I like this. You should wear ties more often.”
I moved my mouth to her ear. “The real fun’s going to be when I take it off later tonight and use it on you.”
Her eyes widened, more excitement than shock, and she slowly licked her lips. Fuck guys like Kevin. This girl was all mine, selfish or not.
“Come check out paintings with me,” she said as she laced our fingers together. “Show me which one’s your favorite of Brooklyn’s.”
“That’s easy. She displayed it at the last show, and I can’t believe someone hasn’t bought it yet.” I guided her over to the bright-colored canvas with the girl reading a book in front of the ocean.
Chelsea tapped a finger to her lip, studying it intently. “That…”
“Looks kind of like you,” Brooklyn said from behind us, and Chelsea turned and hugged her, congratulating her on the show. “Confession time: I used your likeness for inspiration. Pretty sure that’s why it’s Liam’s favorite.”
Chelsea glanced over her shoulder at me, and I shrugged. “I didn’t know she did, but it did make me think of you, and it is why it’s my favorite.” The smile she gave me made me think I should admit things like that to her more often, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders as I addressed my sister. “I was telling her that I can’t believe you haven’t sold it.”
“I’ve had a few offers,” Brooklyn said, “but none of them felt like they were the right people to own it.”
“You decide who your paintings go home with?” Chelsea asked. “Like a cat or puppy? Must go to a good home.”
Brooklyn laughed. “Not usually, but there are certain pieces I can’t bring myself to part with. If it doesn’t feel right, I tell them it’s not for sale.” She shrugged. “Probably not the best business move, but I can’t help it. We artistic types get to be weird like that.”
“And boy does she push that weird to the limit,” Shane said, winding his arms around her waist. Then she twisted to kiss him, and while it used to make me roll my eyes and flee, now I simply curled my girl to me and got lost in kissing her for a moment or two.
A throat clearing interrupted our fun.
“Sorry,” Mom said. “Just wanted to come meet…” Recognition dawned. “Chelsea? Wow, look at you. I didn’t even recognize you at first.”
Chelsea gave a little wave. “Hi, Mrs. Roth.”
“Oh, it’s Hendricks now.”
Chelsea’s mouth fell open, remorse and embarrassment flashing across her features. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I knew that, but I’m just so used to calling you Mrs. Roth, and—”
“It’s fine,” Mom said, waving it off. “That was a lifetime ago, thank God.”
That grated at me, and I noticed Brooklyn tensed up, too. Then I noticed Dad. Who’d obviously heard.
Mom seemed oblivious. “Chelsea used to live next door to us,” she explained to Larry. “I didn’t realize you guys were still in touch, much less dating.”
How would she? “We are,” I said through gritted teeth, and I didn’t think I hid my agitation very well. Mom didn’t hide the moment she spotted Dad very well, either—bitterness tightened her jaw and she reached for Larry’s hand. Dad did try to smile, but it came across as more of a grimace, and then Larry was the one tensing up.
“Hello, Blake.”
Dad nodded. “Jennifer.” He didn’t bother addressing her husband. Awkwardness smothered the air, and my brother and sister and I all glanced at one another, each of us silently urging the other to say something.
