Page 121 of Pieces We Keep

“Good Lord,” Eagle mutters and opens my door. “Enjoy your holidays. I won’t accept any calls from you until January sixth.”

“I didn’t buy you a gift. What does one get for the thug with everything?”

Eagle rolls his eyes as I slide into the SUV. He notices my amusement and settles down.

As we drive away, he flips off his sister who is already giving him double middle fingers.

“That went well,” I say, and he shakes his head at my teasing.

A few minutes later, we arrive in a small upscale subdivision. Eagle pulls the SUV into the long driveway belonging to a stately red-bricked, two-story with a large arched doorway and a professionally landscaped yard.

“Are these the kinds of houses you like?” Eagle asks me as he shuts off the SUV.

“I prefer the ideas your mom came up with.”

Eagle leans over and kisses me quickly. “You don’t need to say that.”

“Let me have yellow in the house, and I’ll be happy.”

Grinning, Eagle looks ready to speak. He goes still when the front door opens. I see him mentally wrapping aggression around his heart to deal with his sister.

I climb out of the SUV while Eagle grabs the gifts.

A dark-haired woman strolls toward us with an air of superiority. Past her runs a boy with floppy hair and a big smile.

“Uncle Rhett,” he says, out of breath and bouncing around. “Am I still going with you?”

“Yeah, bud. This is Irina. Don’t bump her. She’s carrying my kid.”

Wayne looks at me not holding anything and asks, “What kid?”

“Your uncle made himself a bastard,” Harper says and crosses her arms.

When Wayne still seems confused, Eagle explains, “Your mom’s being a bitch.”

While brother and sister glare at each other, I help out the confused boy by rubbing my belly. “Eagle and I are having a baby.”

“Oh,” he says with great enthusiasm. “I get it.”

I look at Harper who won’t take the gifts from Eagle. He walks around her and dumps them on her porch.

“We’ll be back later,” he says as he passes her on the way back.

Harper pretends to ignore him and focuses on me. “I’m Harper. The sister Rhett doesn’t need to be embarrassed of.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he mutters and gestures for Wayne to get in the SUV.

“I’m Irina.”

Giving me the once-over, Harper announces, “I must say you aren’t the low-rent teenage slut I assumed you’d be.”

“Thank you. Can I say you are exactly what people described?”

Losing her smug grin, Harper asks, “What does that mean?”

“It means your reputation fits you perfectly,” I reply and smile warmly.

Harper isn’t sure if I’m complimenting or criticizing her. I don’t help her by offering anymore comments. I just smile warmly and let her stew.

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