He shook his head, his lip quirking up. Houses didn’t shrink. Maybe he’d grown.
Two minutes later, Gray was standing at the base of the driveway, lifting a hand in goodbye as the black sedan made the turn out of Lawson Lane. Even the air smelled different. Cool, with a hint of corn coming up from the fields. And something else. Something old. As though every molecule of oxygen held memories of the past centuries since Hartson’s Creek was founded.
“Gray. You made it!” The front door flew open and a blur of pink and blue rushed toward him. He had just enough time to put his guitar and suitcase down before Becca was jumping into his arms, her dark hair flowing out wildly behind her. “I thought that was you,” she told him right as he caught her. “I saw a car stopped down the road. Aunt Gina owes me five dollars.”
“You bet on that?” Gray’s smile was broad. It always was when he saw his little sister. Gina had brought her out a few times to watch his shows, and he was always pleased to see her.
“The Wi-Fi’s out again. We have to keep ourselves entertained somehow.” Becca shrugged as though it wasn’t a big deal. “Why didn’t you get that big ol’ car to drive up to the house? That would have given us something to gawk at.”
“And that’s why I didn’t have it drive up to the house,” Gray told her, deadpan.
Becca pulled herself out of his hug
and grabbed his hand. “Come on, everybody’s waiting inside.”
“Everybody?” He ignored the pulling at his gut.
“Well, there’s me and Aunt Gina. And Tanner’s here for a couple of days,” she said, referring to Gray’s youngest brother. “Logan and Cam couldn’t make it now, but they’re coming in for Tanner’s birthday.” She grinned broadly. “All the Hartsons in one place. People won’t know what’s hit them.”
“And Dad? Is he in there?”
“He’s in bed.” Her voice dropped. “His recovery is slow.” She waited for him to pick up his things before she pulled him up the front steps, skipping over the middle one with a gaping hole in the plank. When he got to the top, he saw Tanner standing in the doorway, leaning casually on the doorjamb. At twenty-eight, Tanner was the youngest of the four brothers, but still four years older than Becca.
“The wanderer returns,” he drawled as Gray reached the door, and leaned his guitar against the weatherboard wall. “What, no paparazzi? No screaming fans?” He dropped his voice an octave. “No groupies?”
“Sorry to disappoint you.” Gray wrapped his brother in a bear hug. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in New York.”
Tanner shrugged, lifting his hand to push his sandy hair from his eyes. “I heard you were coming. I came for the groupies.”
Becca wrinkled her nose. “You’re disgusting,” she said, swatting his arm. “Both of you.”
Gray held his hands up straight in front of his chest. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.”
“He doesn’t need to say anything. They flock to him.” Tanner grinned. “Hey, Becca, did I tell you about that time I saw Gray in Vegas.”
“What’s all the noise out here? You trying to drive your father crazy?”
Aunt Gina walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway, her eyes lighting up when she saw Gray on the porch. “Grayson. You’re here,” she said.
“Yep. And you owe me five bucks,” Becca told her.
Aunt Gina shuffled over the threshold and pulled Gray into a hug. “Oh, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” she whispered into his chest. “I didn’t think you’d really come.”
“Then why did you get his room ready?” Tanner frowned.
“Because I always have hope.” Aunt Gina took a step back and looked Gray up and down. “Is that new?” she asked him, pointing at the edges of a tattoo peaking out from under his sleeve.
“This old thing?” Gray grinned at her, and went to pull his top off to show her more. “You wanna see?”
“No, I don’t. You keep your t-shirt right where it is.” She shook her head. “We have standards in this house.”
“Unlike in Vegas,” Tanner drawled, winking at his aunt. “Gray’s top was constantly off there.”
“You can be quiet,” Aunt Gina said, shaking her head at Tanner. “And bring your brother’s things in.”
Tanner frowned. “He can carry his own stuff.”
Gray swallowed down a laugh. Some things never changed. Becca’s over enthusiasm, Tanner’s bitching, even Aunt Gina’s cluckiness felt so familiar it made his stomach twist. It was like he was straddling two time zones, somewhere between the man he was and the kid he used to be. “I’ll carry my bags,” he told Tanner. “I wouldn’t want you to hurt your back, sweetheart.”