Page 24 of The Wildcat

“I’m just a few hours away, Mom,” he tries to argue. But with one look, she shuts him up and makes her way through us all.

“Your father and Tommy are already outside waiting on you. We’re eating in the backyard tonight.”

The boys head out, and Grace and I stick with Mom.

“Need help with anything?” Grace takes two waters from the fridge and tosses me one, then hops up on the counter until Mom gives herthe eye, and she hops right back down.

“You could pull the cake I picked up earlier out of the refrigerator so it can come to room temp .” Then she turns around and a smile curves her lips. “Now you, on the other hand...” She points her serrated knife at me. “You need to start talking.”

I pick a piece of mozzarella out of the tomato salad and pop it into my mouth. “About what?”

Grace puts a delicious-looking chocolate cake on the counter next to me, then looks between Mom and me. “Ohh... What did I miss? What does she need to start talking about?” Grace eyes the cake longingly before deciding to opt for a tomato instead. “Did everything go all right with the baby ballerinas this morning?”

“Everything was fine.” I roll my eyes and run a finger through the chocolate frosting. She doesn’t know what she’s missing. “Damn, that’s good.”

Grace’s shoulders droop. “I wish I had your metabolism.”

I slide my finger back to the cake.

“Everly Amelia Sinclair. Do not finger fuck the cake.” Grace and I giggle at Mom’s use of the F bomb.

“Uh-oh. She cursedandmiddle-named you.” Grace’s eyes shine. She never gets middle-named because good twin never does anything wrong.

“Yes, I did,” Mom agrees, then runs her own finger through the frosting. “Because your namesake, Aunt Amelia, called me after you left Sweet Temptations earlier.”

Shit. I should have known she’d do that.

Grace’s eyes ping between Mom and me. “Why? What happened at Sweet Temptations?”

Dad walks through the French doors and throws his big arms around Grace and me. “How are my girls doing?”

“Good, Daddy,” we answer in unison.

He drops a kiss on Mom’s head and grabs a bowl from the counter. “Well, you better come on then. Dinner is ready, and your brothers look hungry.”

Mom pushes a second plate into Dad’s other hand, then looks back at me. “We’re not done yet, Everly.” She picks up the tomato salad and follows Dad outside before Grace smacks me.

“What the hell was that about?”

I grab the pile of linen napkins and take a step back. “Remember the guy I told you about last night?”

Her eyes grow wide with anticipation. “Hot-sex West End guy?”

I nod. Such hot sex.

“Well, turns out his daughter is in your class.” I move around her and walk outside, saved by the bell, theoretically.

Or so I thought, until my sister stops at the open door, stunned.

“His daughter,” she gasps.

My noisy-ass brothers, uncle, and parents all stop and stare at Grace.

“Whose daughter?” Uncle Tommy asks before sitting down and taking a bottle of beer away from Hendrix. “You’re not twenty-one.”

Hendrix groans . . . and so do I.

“Damnit, Gracie,” I murmur and sit quietly down, taking my place on the other side of Leo.

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