shop, perhaps unfairly so.
“Oh, I bet you could get away,” he says to me in a soft, inviting voice that makes me lean forward.
“I can’t remember the last time I had a weekend off,” I confess.
I am painfully aware that Ronnie and Janet are both staring daggers at me. If I dared to take a weekend off, that would mean they’d both have to do weekend shifts. Even Ronnie, and I can’t remember the last time that he actually pulled a shot of espresso. For a guy who loves bragging about how he owns the coffee shop, he sure doesn’t do a lot of actual work here.
“So, let’s do it!” Chance smiles, practically blinding me with that beautiful grin. “I will have a car pick you up? Bring you back. You won’t need to do a thing. We can get all caught up!”
“Oh, we would really love to, but we can’t!” Ronnie interrupts, scoffing like it is just ridiculous that I might make a decision for myself.
Which makes me angry. I don’t know why.
Why is he trying to talk for me? Why is he trying to make decisions for me?
“Will the boys be there?” I ask eagerly, trying to keep my voice even. “Ned, right? And Matthew?”
“I’ll make sure of it!” Chance says, reaching forward to cover my hand with his on the counter.
Again, I get this feeling of dizziness. Of being launched from a height. Like I’ve been standing on the edge of a diving board for a long time, and here he is, the wind that’s going to push me over.
“Well… Yeah!” I breathe. My chest feels like it’s going to burst from the inside.
“Wait, what?” Ronnie blurts out. His eyes are wide with alarm. “What are you talking about? The schedule is already set. You’re just gonna leave?”
I roll my eyes dramatically. “Well, obviously we can’t both leave!” I smile blandly. “It’s a good thing you’re going to be here! I’m sure you and Janet will be just fine! Family first!”
“Great!” Chance booms.
He squeezes my hand again, the dry, ridged texture of his palm brushing the tops of my knuckles. I can tell by his expression that he was ready to push the point more forcefully if I didn’t agree right away. He probably made up his mind that I was coming to Lake Geneva the moment he saw me. And whatever Chance wants, eventually he gets.
“I will have a car pick you up on Friday morning, all right? It’s a really short flight, or you could take the drive if you want. Very pretty, if you enjoy that sort of thing.”
Instantly, I remember long car rides with Chance and Jack on either side of me, sleepy and safe as the streetlights swept by, lulled almost to sleep by the warmth and the motion of the car.
“A ride? Like a road trip?” I repeat in wonder. “Actually, that sounds amazing. I would love to do that. Thank you!”
He holds my gaze for a few extra seconds, sending an encoded message right into the middle of my brain. He’s glad to see me. He missed me. He knows I missed him too.
“Anything for you, Chels,” he murmurs, smiling. “Anything at all.”
Chapter 6
Jack
Even though I know what to expect when the doorbell rings, it still takes me completely by surprise. It’s been a very long morning. Chance is in Chicago or Oak Brook or something, meeting with the other tech nerds on our development teams.
He is responsible for making sure all of the social misfit geniuses get our apps working properly before we bring them to market. That’s when I go to work. Once the app is climbing up the chart, I find an investor to pay us a stupid amount of money for it.
We’ve done that six times now since the first one. Home run every time. It’s like magic.
Lake Geneva is convenient for us too. Just over the state line in Wisconsin, it has just the right combination of wilderness and wealth that we wanted. We have never made a secret of the fact that Chance and I are not your average guys. How many grown-ass men live with their brother and their two practically identical kids? We know that. It’s not like we are trying to be hermits, but a certain amount of privacy keeps the dumb questions to a minimum.
And yet, it’s only about an hour and a half from the Chicago metropolitan area. About that long that Chelsea has been in the car with our driver. I think Chance offered her the jet, which is an even faster ride, but she elected the road trip. Good old Chelsea.
Probably it was wrong of us, but I remember Chance and I huddled close around our younger stepsister, thinking and not thinking the sorts of things you would expect from teenage boys. Not quite men. Not serious enough to do things. But serious enough to have those fleeting fantasies. Those moments where we didn’t consider crossing the line for real, but we definitely knew where it was.
Yet, some of my fondest memories are car rides. Chelsea always managed to sit between us, her slender thighs pressed up against ours. For some reason the car always made her fall asleep almost immediately. She was so trusting. So honest. No games or anything like that. Just a sweet girl, happy to be between us, totally satisfied and calm with the affection we all shared for each other.