Page 106 of Don't Take the Girl
"Really? Who? Do I know him?" I question, surprised by her answer but thoroughly invested in her response.
"As a matter of fact?—"
Ding dong, the doorbell robs her words.
"No," I whine. "Tell me first. I must know," I say dramatically as she walks past the table to answer the door.
"If it's London, send him away," I call after her.
The muffin and letter were a start, but I'm not ready to see him.
"Does Laney Hart live here?" I hear Trigg's voice carry through the house.
I drop my head to the table. "Seriously."
"Laney, you have a visitor," my mother announces as she walks back into the kitchen. "It's not London, so I let him in."
"I should have clarified and said no visitors," I grumble into the table.
"Good to see you too, sis." He pats my back before pulling out the chair next to me. "Is that pancakes I smell?"
"It doesn't matter if it is." I lift my head from the table and add, "You're not staying."
"Ouch." He makes a face.
"Laney, where are your manners?" my mother scolds before asking him, "How many do you want?"
"I'll take as many as you give me. I worked up an appetite driving straight through the night to get here."
"Yes, remind me again. Why are you here?" I rest my hand on my elbow and look at him curiously.
"Making sure my brother doesn't royally mess things up beyond repair," he explains, and I catch my mother turn around, eyes wide.
"Mom, this is Trigger Hale, London's half-brother. Trigg, this is my mom, Anastasia."
"Well, that explains the striking resemblance. Bristol never mentioned that London had a brother around the same age," she says, opening the refrigerator, pulling out a pitcher of orange juice, and setting it on the table.
"That's because he doesn't know," Trigg answers, and my mother freezes. Bristol knows Baylor has a son. The part he doesn't know is that Baylor's son is technically London's brother. "If you could keep that to yourself, I'd really appreciate it." My mother's eyebrows slightly raise, and he must see his request isn't sitting right with her, so he adds, "I plan on telling him."
She nods. "Where are you staying?"
"Umm, I haven't figured that out," he says, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "Laney was my first stop."
"You're welcome to stay in the guest bedroom."
"Mom," I groan, perturbed that she offered him the room, not because I have anything against Trigg but because it basically invites London into our home.
"What?" She shrugs, sliding a plate of pancakes and eggs across the table to me. "He's family now. If he's London's brother, then he's also the uncle of your baby."
"Mom," I hiss. "Not everyone knows about the baby."
A satisfied, shit-eating grin takes over his face. "Oh, I heard all about the baby. Who do you think broke up the fight between Fisher and London?" My mother slides a plate to him. He picks up his silverware. "I tried to tell you—you picked the wrong brother," he jests before cutting into his stack of pancakes as I do the same.
"If my brain was the one doing the choosing, maybe I would have listened, but the brain doesn't choose who it loves. The heart does," I say before shoving a delicious bite into my mouth.
"Yeah, I think I might know a little something about that," he admits. "So, what are we doing today?" he asks as if we're back home on the ranch, and his brother hasn't completely obliterated my heart.
"I am going to go back to my room, take a hot bath, sulk, sleep, read, and repeat. Maybe not in that order, but you get the gist. We..."—I gesture between us—"aren't doing anything."
