Page 10 of Free to Run
Unfolding myself to get out of my car, I grudgingly begin to understand why Caleb gave up the easy convenience of his commute. The jewel the Freemans have established here is breathtaking. Holding a hand up to ward off the glare of the sun as I glance around the lake, I look at the dark green leaves of the trees that frame the carriage house Cassidy and Caleb call home.
Knowing what she built with so damned little and nothing more than her own determination, I’m filled with a rush of brotherly pride.
“Amazing, isn’t it? I love this time of year here.” Feeling a clap on my shoulder, I tense as I turn. Jason Ross, Phil’s husband, offers me a welcoming smile as he holds out his hand. “Welcome home, brother.”
I’m uncertain about his ease in accepting me into the Freeman fold, but I grasp his hand and accept a back slap anyway. I do admit, I’ve always held a deep respect for Jason. Not only because he’s an ER doctor in a major New York City hospital, but he’s the man who manages to be married to Phil on a daily basis and not smother him in his sleep.
“It’s good to be back.”
“Is it?” He starts to laugh, and I frown. When did I become so easy to read? “When did you get in?” he continues as if he hasn’t unsettled me.
“A few hours ago.” I roll my shoulders, releasing any lingering tension before I see my sister again. She’d read it in an instant and worry something was wrong. She’d fuss over me, needing to fix whatever it is she sees.
That’s not the way our relationship is supposed to work. I’m the fixer, the one who solves all the problems. My role has been ingrained in me for so long, I don’t know how to live without it. My rules are so structured on what is right and wrong, black and white, it’s hard for me to let go of control and let others in.
I remember one of my Harvard professors writing a Sir Arthur Conan Doyle quote on the board during class that fascinated me, about logic being rare and dwelling on that. Despite what others may think, I’m not unaware of how I live my life. As a result, it’s been hard to settle into the Freemans’ world.
I’m dragged from my thoughts when Jason asks, “Sure you’re up to a summons for a family dinner?”
I take an involuntary step back. “Is there going to be anything resembling body shots, food art, or Phil trying to demonstrate positions from the Kama Sutra?” One night over dinner, Cassidy provided me with some the more interesting highlights of her family get-togethers. I want to see my sister, but I don’t need to see a live sex show. I’ve been privy to some of the better ones, and I know they’re not hosted by Phil Freeman.
Jason laughs. “Not that I’m aware of, and I don’t think anyone is actively planning.”
Thank God. “Then I think I’m safe.” I pause. “‘Think’ being key there.”
Jason claps my shoulder again as we make our way to the front door of the farm, where we immediately stop dead. Through the ringing of my ears, I hear Luke Bryan blaring over the surround sound.
Before I can take a step into the room, I feel the impact of a small body, with what seems like a deflated basketball shoved up her dress, smashing into me.
“Oomph.” The air rushes from my lungs as a shoulder hits my solar plexus.
“Welcome back, Keene!” Cassidy shouts in my ear above the music. Her ocean-blue eyes sparkle up at me as she leans forward to press a kiss against my cheek. My arms tighten around her. My baby sister. Even now, her enthusiastic reaction causes my heart to stutter in my chest.
I wrap my arms around her small—not so small now that she’s pregnant—frame, and rock her back and forth. Over the cacophony of noise, I whisper, “Thanks,” into her ear.
She beams up at me before saying, “I’ll be back,” and runs back into the chaos of the main room.
Luke is crooning about the country girls shaking it, and damn if all the Freemans aren’t doing as he’s requested. My eyes widen at the sight of my pregnant sister joining the dance party. At least she’s not on top of the table or counter like the rest of her family is, or I might have to question Caleb’s sanity. Cassidy has enough sense to be dancing on the floor while holding on to something, namely her husband. As I’m watching her with an indulgent smile, I see her swaying back and forth. Then I hear Corinna call out with a huge smile on her face, “Shake it, Ali!”
I stiffen. Every muscle tightens as I scan the room, trying to find Alison. The second I do, my dick hardens, immediately. I think I’m going to have zipper tracks running up the underside of it from the blood racing to it so fast.
In a sundress that hugs her toned body, Alison’s back is facing me as she raises her hands above her head, feet spread as wide as the narrow slits in the side of her skirt will allow. She does some kind of shimmy move that ends up with her rocking her sweet ass back and forth on her heels, a move I’ve only seen performed by professionals using a pole. Using those sleek thighs that I’ve memorized the taste of, she sways her sexy body back up to a standing position, to catcalls from her other family members. “Super-hot, Ali!” is yelled from a table to my left where Em is dancing. Phil whistles between his teeth like he’s at an actual strip club. Holly flips her long mane of hair out of her face, sees me, and loses it.
Pointing in my direction, she yells, “Ali, you got an audience! One who can actually rate that move!”
Alison swivels around on the end table and our eyes meet. Cobalt blue to my green. Coolly, her eyes narrow in my direction before dismissing me. I hear a snort of laughter from Corinna at Alison’s response.
What the fuck was that? Not even a hello?
I’m mentally running through the catalog of information Cassidy has kept me up-to-date on while I’ve been gone. I know Alison isn’t seeing anyone. If I’m not mistaken, I’m the last person who’s slid into the tight slickness of her body, feeling her muscles clamp down while her juices leaked out.
Like the first night I met her, she challenges me with a single look. On her next spin, I make certain I’m in her line of sight, sending her a predatory smile. I keep my face expressionless as she almost falls off the table.
Going to try to keep me out, Alison?
We’ll see about that.
6
