Page 25 of So Wrong It's Right

What Stella neglectedto tell me about brunch was that it is an extended family weekly get-together in her parents’ home and not the simple meal in a bistro that would normally come to mind.

And Stella’s family is more extended than most.

She’s left me on a terrace at her parents’ house with a mimosa and a promise to be right back. I recognize some faces—family and friends who’ve been into the clinic recently—but there are too many to put names to. Nash from the bar is here.

Her parents’ spacious home is lovely. It’s weird to think that Stella grew up in this house. This normal house. There are books everywhere, and well-cared for, yet well-loved furniture. The wood floors shine beneath several fading throw rugs. My favorite part so far has been the photos on the mantel. Stella was a very cute little girl, but she was even more awkward than I was as a teenager. The braces with the headgear charmed me, as did the expression of horror on her face when I found that picture. She quickly replaced it with some pictures of her dad and Dr. Anderson from their ‘80s band. I can’t believe the guy who wanted to golf with me used to wear eyeliner. She promised to not show me the assless chaps picture if I never mentioned the headgear again. That was half an hour ago, and I lost track of her about ten minutes later.

I bring my attention back to the man in front of me. Brandon McKendrick is pretending to care about small talk with me, but he is practically salivating over the woman in a tight dress in the corner talking to Tru and Nash. If I recall, it’s his girlfriend in the dress, and Nash is his son. I catch a shooting star in my peripheral vision and know Stella is near. She joins my side and clasps my hand and it feels natural. Good. At the same time, strange. She’s smiling at me like she’s getting one over on me, like she thinks it’s a hardship to hold her hand. I give hers a gentle squeeze to keep her off balance. It’s only fair.

“I’m stealing him away, Brandon, before you get to any good stories about my childhood.”

“That’s a shame. You are the only fun one of your siblings. There are some good stories there.”

She kisses his cheek. “Don’t I know it.”

I grab my plate from the table, and we go back inside.

She steals a grape from my plate, and I pretend not to notice. “What makes you stay in such a small town? Don’t you feel like everyone is in your business?”

She takes more food off my plate, so I just hand the whole thing to her. She swallows her bite and is about to say something else when she ducks. “Oh, Goddess, my sister is here.”

At the door, Megan and her boyfriend are pushing their way into the room. Megan’s eyes get big when she sees me, and everyone hears her make a squeeing sound, though an octave higher and only my canine patients would have been able to hear it. “Megan appears to already have seen you,” I say blandly.

“Eff me,” my girlfriend laments, straightening up and downing her mimosa.

I brace for the worst as Megan strides across the room. “Christopher!” She hugs me in an overly familiar way. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She takes note of our clasped hands and squees again. “So glad.”

“I think we were just getting ready to leave,” Stella offers. “Farmer’s market.” She shoots me a look like I might not have understood what I was getting into. If she thinks a farmer’s market is going to scare me off more than a brunch with her extremely large family, she doesn’t know me very well. I’m a huge fan of both eggs Benedictandfarm-fresh produce. It’s my idea of a perfect Sunday.

Of course, that’s the truth of it, though. She doesn’t know me very well. I don’t know her very well. What we do know of each other isn’t well liked.

I’m still wondering why this was my idea.

“Let me take a few pictures before you go,” Megan says, pulling me along in her tide of dramatics to “better light.” “We are just so happy about you and Stella. She needs someone normal. I feel like I should warn you about her antics, but I’m afraid I’ll scare you off.”

I pull back and look at her. “Nothing you could say will scare me off Stella.”

“Well, you’ve only known her for a few months. I’ve known her for her whole life.”

The idea that I need to protect Stella from her sister is ludicrous. “Megan, I like her just the way she is. Your sister is wonderful.”

“Of course, she is. I’m just teasing.”

But if that is how she always is, I can see why Stella might think otherwise. Families tease, that’s a given. But if it never stops, if the pattern never changes, it would be hard to laugh it off after a while.

I find myself being arranged behind Stella. My arms tighten around her reflexively. It’s like the scent of cherries and maybe vanilla has become Pavlovian.Sniff.Grab.Reward.Sniff. Grab. Reward.

She angles her head to look at me. “What are you doing?” she asks through a fake smile.

I inhale deeply.Losing my mind. “I’m being the perfect boyfriend.” I nuzzle her neck. “You want them to believe this, right?”

“Oh, this is for them, is it?” She arches just enough to brush against my growing erection. “You certainly go all out.” She turns in my arms. Maybe she’s forgotten the camera. Maybe she hasn’t. “I guess I shouldn’t let you do all the heavy lifting.” Her arms go around my neck and she cups the back of my head.

“What are you doing, Stella?”

“Being the perfect girlfriend.” She kisses me. It’s not a sensual kiss. It’s not like last night at all. It’s soft and sweet and my heart pitches uncomfortably like it’s forgotten its rhythm. Like it’s forgotten that it has one job.

She pulls away slowly, and it’s gratifying to see that dazed look has returned. I like putting that there.

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