And warning me that she’s going to try to take everything Steve left me.
“Is this the plot of some Lifetime movie?” Easton interjects before I can respond. “Because I blocked that channel on my TV.”
“Samesy,” Sawyer says. “Where’s the dessert?”
“Well, if we’re bored of my life story and Ella’s, how about we talk about you boys? I know Easton and the twins like to play the field. What about you two? Reed? Gideon? Are you boys seeing anyone special or breaking hearts like your little brothers?” She gives a teasing laugh. Nobody else joins in.
“We’re both single,” Gideon grinds out.
That gets Brooke’s attention. She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, shooting me an impish look as the wait staff carts out our desserts. “And you, Ella? Found that special someone yet?”
Callum is eyeing me too now. It figures this would be the moment he decides to take his drunken face out of his wine bottle.
I lower my head to my dessert as if the tiramisu on my plate is the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”
There’s another lull in the conversation. I scarf down my cake as quickly as I can, and I notice from the corner of my eye that all the Royal boys are doing the same.
Gideon beats us all, dropping his fork on his empty plate and scraping his chair back. “I need to make a phone call.”
His father frowns. “We’re about to serve coffee.”
“Don’t want any,” Gid mumbles. He hightails it off the patio as if he can’t get away fast enough.
Reed opens his mouth to speak but Callum silences him with a look. You’re not going anywhere, it says. And Reed angrily slumps back in his seat.
The catering staff comes out with trays of fancy-pants lattes featuring actual designs created out of the foam. Mine’s a leaf. Brooke’s is a tree but should’ve been a pitchfork.
“Excuse me,” Dinah says as the coffee is served. “I need to use the little girls’ room.”
Reed catches my gaze and we both roll our eyes, and I instantly regret the moment of camaraderie because it brings a pleased half-smile to his lips.
This time, it’s Easton and I who beat out the brothers, slurping our lattes back in record time. We slam our cups down and speak at the same time.
“I’ll help the caterers with these dishes—”
“I’ll take in this tray—”
We glare at each other for a moment, but our mutual need to flee inspires another bonding moment.
“Ella and I will take care of this,” Easton finishes, and I nod in gratitude.
Callum is quick to protest. “The wait staff is perfectly capable of—”
But Easton and I are already gathering up random plates and cups.
As we hurry toward the French doors, I hear Reed’s grumble of annoyance tickling my back.
“Great minds think alike,” Easton murmurs.
I flash him a quick scowl. “Oh, so now we’re friends again?”
His expression flickers with guilt. When we reach the kitchen, he sets the plates in the sink, glances discreetly at the catering staff, and lowers his voice. “I’m sorry about what I said at Sav’s party. I was…wasted.”
“You’re not allowed to use that as an excuse,” I retort. “You’re always wasted and you’ve never said anything like that to me before.”
His cheeks redden. “I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.”
“Yup.”
“Forgive me?”
He dons his trademark little-boy look that usually makes people melt, but I’m not letting him off the hook that easily. The comment he’d made the other night was mean. And hurtful. So I shake my head at him and walk out of the kitchen.
“Ella. Come on. Wait.” He catches up to me in the hall and takes hold of my arm. “You know I say stupid shit without thinking.”
My face heats up. “You pretty much told everyone at that party that I’m a slut, Easton.”
He moans. “I know. I messed up, okay? You know I don’t think that about you. I…” His features crease. “I like you. You’re my baby sis. Please don’t be mad at me.”
Before I can respond, a soft noise snags my attention. It sounded like a groan. Or maybe a sigh?
I glance toward the end of the hall. There are only three rooms in this section of the house: a small powder room, the walk-in pantry, and a closet.
“Did you hear that?” I ask Easton.
He nods grimly.
Something compels me to creep farther down the corridor. I pause in front of the pantry, but I don’t hear anything behind the door. Same with the closet. The bathroom, though…
Easton and I both freeze when we hear the moan. It’s a woman, from the sound of it. My blood runs cold, because there are six females in the Royal mansion right now and five of them are accounted for. Brooke’s on the patio. The waitresses are in the kitchen. And I’m right here.
Which means…
I turn to Easton with wide eyes, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.
He must have put two and two together, because his mouth falls open slightly.
“Easton,” I hiss when he reaches for the doorknob.
He holds the index finger of his free hand to his mouth. Then, to my horror, he turns the knob and eases the door open about an inch.
An inch is all we need. An inch is plenty for us to catch a glimpse of the couple inside the bathroom. Dinah’s blonde head. Gid’s dark one. His hands digging into her hips. Her body arching toward him.
With disgust in his eyes, Easton soundlessly closes the bathroom door and stumbles backward as if he was just slapped in the face.
In unspoken agreement, we don’t say a word until we’re a safe distance away.
“Oh my God,” I whisper in horror. “What the hell is Gideon—”
Easton clamps a hand over my mouth. “Shut up,” he says in a low voice. “We didn’t see anything, you got it?”
His hand is trembling as it drops away. He gives me one last punishing look, then spins on his heel and disappears into the foyer. A few seconds later, the front door slams.
20
The phone rings at midnight. I’m not asleep. When I close my eyes, all I can see is Gideon and Dinah’s heads and his hands on her ass. It’s too close to how I picture Brooke and Reed, and I wonder if that’s where Reed got his stupid idea in the first place.
“Is this the plot of some Lifetime movie?” Easton interjects before I can respond. “Because I blocked that channel on my TV.”
“Samesy,” Sawyer says. “Where’s the dessert?”
“Well, if we’re bored of my life story and Ella’s, how about we talk about you boys? I know Easton and the twins like to play the field. What about you two? Reed? Gideon? Are you boys seeing anyone special or breaking hearts like your little brothers?” She gives a teasing laugh. Nobody else joins in.
“We’re both single,” Gideon grinds out.
That gets Brooke’s attention. She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, shooting me an impish look as the wait staff carts out our desserts. “And you, Ella? Found that special someone yet?”
Callum is eyeing me too now. It figures this would be the moment he decides to take his drunken face out of his wine bottle.
I lower my head to my dessert as if the tiramisu on my plate is the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”
There’s another lull in the conversation. I scarf down my cake as quickly as I can, and I notice from the corner of my eye that all the Royal boys are doing the same.
Gideon beats us all, dropping his fork on his empty plate and scraping his chair back. “I need to make a phone call.”
His father frowns. “We’re about to serve coffee.”
“Don’t want any,” Gid mumbles. He hightails it off the patio as if he can’t get away fast enough.
Reed opens his mouth to speak but Callum silences him with a look. You’re not going anywhere, it says. And Reed angrily slumps back in his seat.
The catering staff comes out with trays of fancy-pants lattes featuring actual designs created out of the foam. Mine’s a leaf. Brooke’s is a tree but should’ve been a pitchfork.
“Excuse me,” Dinah says as the coffee is served. “I need to use the little girls’ room.”
Reed catches my gaze and we both roll our eyes, and I instantly regret the moment of camaraderie because it brings a pleased half-smile to his lips.
This time, it’s Easton and I who beat out the brothers, slurping our lattes back in record time. We slam our cups down and speak at the same time.
“I’ll help the caterers with these dishes—”
“I’ll take in this tray—”
We glare at each other for a moment, but our mutual need to flee inspires another bonding moment.
“Ella and I will take care of this,” Easton finishes, and I nod in gratitude.
Callum is quick to protest. “The wait staff is perfectly capable of—”
But Easton and I are already gathering up random plates and cups.
As we hurry toward the French doors, I hear Reed’s grumble of annoyance tickling my back.
“Great minds think alike,” Easton murmurs.
I flash him a quick scowl. “Oh, so now we’re friends again?”
His expression flickers with guilt. When we reach the kitchen, he sets the plates in the sink, glances discreetly at the catering staff, and lowers his voice. “I’m sorry about what I said at Sav’s party. I was…wasted.”
“You’re not allowed to use that as an excuse,” I retort. “You’re always wasted and you’ve never said anything like that to me before.”
His cheeks redden. “I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.”
“Yup.”
“Forgive me?”
He dons his trademark little-boy look that usually makes people melt, but I’m not letting him off the hook that easily. The comment he’d made the other night was mean. And hurtful. So I shake my head at him and walk out of the kitchen.
“Ella. Come on. Wait.” He catches up to me in the hall and takes hold of my arm. “You know I say stupid shit without thinking.”
My face heats up. “You pretty much told everyone at that party that I’m a slut, Easton.”
He moans. “I know. I messed up, okay? You know I don’t think that about you. I…” His features crease. “I like you. You’re my baby sis. Please don’t be mad at me.”
Before I can respond, a soft noise snags my attention. It sounded like a groan. Or maybe a sigh?
I glance toward the end of the hall. There are only three rooms in this section of the house: a small powder room, the walk-in pantry, and a closet.
“Did you hear that?” I ask Easton.
He nods grimly.
Something compels me to creep farther down the corridor. I pause in front of the pantry, but I don’t hear anything behind the door. Same with the closet. The bathroom, though…
Easton and I both freeze when we hear the moan. It’s a woman, from the sound of it. My blood runs cold, because there are six females in the Royal mansion right now and five of them are accounted for. Brooke’s on the patio. The waitresses are in the kitchen. And I’m right here.
Which means…
I turn to Easton with wide eyes, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.
He must have put two and two together, because his mouth falls open slightly.
“Easton,” I hiss when he reaches for the doorknob.
He holds the index finger of his free hand to his mouth. Then, to my horror, he turns the knob and eases the door open about an inch.
An inch is all we need. An inch is plenty for us to catch a glimpse of the couple inside the bathroom. Dinah’s blonde head. Gid’s dark one. His hands digging into her hips. Her body arching toward him.
With disgust in his eyes, Easton soundlessly closes the bathroom door and stumbles backward as if he was just slapped in the face.
In unspoken agreement, we don’t say a word until we’re a safe distance away.
“Oh my God,” I whisper in horror. “What the hell is Gideon—”
Easton clamps a hand over my mouth. “Shut up,” he says in a low voice. “We didn’t see anything, you got it?”
His hand is trembling as it drops away. He gives me one last punishing look, then spins on his heel and disappears into the foyer. A few seconds later, the front door slams.
20
The phone rings at midnight. I’m not asleep. When I close my eyes, all I can see is Gideon and Dinah’s heads and his hands on her ass. It’s too close to how I picture Brooke and Reed, and I wonder if that’s where Reed got his stupid idea in the first place.
