His fingers are a blur as he types out instructions for whichever of his poor underlings are being forced to work on a Sunday.
“I know, Koko. You’ve said it at least twelve times.”
“Because it’s rude to openly flaunt your obsession with your iPhone in front of new people. If they were old acquaintances or your lifetime best friends—”
“Or an annoying younger sibling.”
I point at him emphatically. “Yes! Exactly. But otherwise it’s just—”
“Rude. I get it.” He puts the phone in the pocket of his jeans and then crosses his arms to stare me down. “You know, some people might concede that it’s also rude, or at least slightly selfish, to insist a person accompany you to an event when said person is horrendously busy at work. To go so far as to beg and plead and send a hundred text messages demanding they come along—”
I shake my hair out in agitation. “Well, I—”
“And then, when said person finally relents, to spend forty-five minutes instructing them on what to wear.” He raises an eyebrow in annoyance, and I tuck my hair back behind my ears demurely.
He has me there. I did possibly spend a little too much time figuring out my outfit tonight, and when I finalized what it would be, I had nowhere to turn my frenetic energy except to what he should wear. For Sunday Supper this week I chose an empire-waist baby-doll dress, which would feel like summer were it not for my Kelly-green old-man cardigan and my tan Frye boots. The dress and cardigan say casual and innocent, and the noticeable is all in my hair. It’s a gorgeous blowout with plenty of shine and body. My dress might not be trying too hard, but my hair came to play.
“It’s just that they’ve never met you, and I wanted you to look right.” I ring the doorbell, a distraction tactic that doesn’t work.
“And what is the right way to look, exactly?”
I give his outfit a once-over: good jeans, form-fitting dress shirt with a button-down collar, casual blazer, and Converse. He also styled his hair into an awesome fauxhawk, but only after I threatened to burn his beloved beanie if he didn’t. It’s not that he doesn’t have great style—he does. But given his workload and his annoyance at my forcing him into this, chances are he would have opted for something super casual. Because he works in tech, people who don’t know him sometimes don’t take him seriously, and when he’s dressed like a Seattle teenager circa 1992, it doesn’t exactly help his cause. The truth is that Tosh is one of smartest and most accomplished businessmen I know. I’d be willing to wager he’s got as much money in his bank account as the Ashtons do, if not more. I just don’t want anyone judging him unfairly.
But I can’t say any of that without embarrassing him, so I change the subject rather than answer.
“Did I tell you they bought this house from Tom Selleck? Apparently he’s still totally loaded from all that TV in the eighties.”
He looks over the grounds as if noticing how palatial everything is for the first time. “Do you remember the time Dad dressed up like Magnum, P.I., for Halloween and Mom was Higgins?”
A college professor and a copy editor, our parents could not be nerdier if they tried. But they’re also two of the happiest people you’ll ever meet and thoroughly comfortable in their overall weirdness. I get that from them. Their themed Halloween costumes are the stuff of legends. I get that from them too.
I smile at the memory. “Gods, he loved wearing those short shorts. It was so inappropriate.”
“And his fake mustache kept falling half off his face, but Mom thought it was so funny, she wouldn’t tell him to fix it.”
The memory has us both laughing so hard we’re nearly in tears, which is how Liam finds us when he opens the door. He looks radiant once again; all signs of his bout with forced bulimia are nowhere to be seen.
Tosh has hung out with both Brody and Taylor before, so he must realize who this is. His laugh dies instantly.
Liam extends his hand before I can introduce the two of them.
“Kitoshi, right? It’s nice to finally meet you.”
They shake hands like they’re going to be graded on it later. As we walk through the house, Tosh makes polite conversation but doesn’t engage with Liam the way he normally would when meeting one of my friends. He’s usually personable and friendly. With Liam he’s all one-word answers and indifference. Man, these two are going to laugh about this meeting someday years from now when we’re all on a family vacation together.
I follow them back to the kitchen, and I’m surprised to find Viv and Charlie busy at work and the smell of fajitas filling the space. I’ve never seen them cook before; I actually didn’t even think they knew how. Maybe their chef got mono or something.
“Oh, you’re here!” Viv calls, already wiping her hands on a kitchen towel and hurrying over. “You prefer Tosh, is that right?”
Tosh reaches out to shake her hand, but I could have told him Viv would have none of that—she’s a hugger.
“We’re so excited to finally meet you,” Viv says cheerfully. Charlie has to wait for her to unclench before he can shake Tosh’s hand.
“Thank you so much for having me over,” my brother tells them politely.
I drop my purse on a chair and go around to each person, giving hugs and kissing cheeks, with Tosh following behind. I don’t bother to get anywhere near Liam since technically we should have hugged hello when he opened the door, but he didn’t offer and I’m not going to throw myself at him—at least not without some alcohol in my system.
“Can I help with something?” I ask.
“No.” Viv waves me away with a perfectly manicured hand. “We’re almost done with the tacos. Grab yourself a drink, and have some of that queso Landon brought. It’s got to be five hundred calories a bite, but it’s worth every one.”
I follow the direction of the knife she’s using to point down the counter. Brody and Landon are drinking beers near an elaborate spread of chips and salsa and a giant bowl of melted cheese that Landon considers one of her specialties. Liam walks around them and goes to work next to Viv chopping vegetables.
Oh gods, please don’t let him be good at cooking too! I can’t make a meal to save my life, and if this man has some culinary prowess on top of everything else, I might actually just have to kidnap him. A Stockholm syndrome kind of love is still love, right?
I force myself to look away and find something else to focus on. As usual, Max is whipping up some kind of cocktail, and Taylor is . . . I’m not really sure.
“Taylor, what are you doing down there?”
His voice comes out muffled from where he’s half bent under the kitchen table.
“This table wobbles a little,” he calls back. For good measure he shakes it to prove his point.
“It drives him insane,” Max tells us as she lines glasses with salt. “You want one of these?”
Both Tosh and I nod in unison.
“It doesn’t drive me insane,” Taylor says.
“It does. He’s been fretting over that table for weeks, but he doesn’t want to offend Mom and Dad, so he hasn’t offered to fix it,” Max says with a smile.
Taylor unfolds himself from beneath the table, his height and muscles and tattoos in direct opposition to the sweet smile he gives Max and the lazy drawl of his accent.
“Jennings, you know I’ve never fretted about anything in all my life.”
“Even when we did events?” Landon asks. “I seem to remember you rewiring an alarm once during a blizzard at Sundance.”
“Ugh!” Max scowls at her. “Don’t bring up Selah—it’s bad juju.”
Both Landon and I yell mostly incoherent things at the mention of our horrible former boss, and Brody throws a handful of tortilla chips at his sister.
“Dude, you know you’re not supposed to use her name. She’s like Voldemort!”
I take a sip of the margar
ita she just handed me with a scowl on my face. Fresh citrus hits my tongue, covering the fire from the tequila almost completely and wiping out some of my annoyance at the mention of my former boss.
“It doesn’t matter now.” Max hands Taylor his drink and accepts his kiss on the cheek. “Taylor no longer works there as of Friday.”
Landon gasps and I squeal. It’s loud enough that everyone stops what they’re doing to look at us.
“This is so great!” Landon says, standing up on tiptoes to give him a hug.
I follow suit while Taylor chuckles self-consciously.
“Yeah, well, all the cool kids are starting their own businesses, so I thought I’d follow suit.”
“You’re not just starting.” Max fits herself against his side. “You’ve been successfully designing furniture for years; now you’re just doing it full time.”
“That’s awesome, man.” My brother taps glasses with Taylor. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Taylor grins.
“Beyond the order you just placed for forty-three desks for your office, you mean?”
Now it’s Tosh’s turn to look embarrassed.
“That’s entirely on Koko. You know she’s the arbiter of style. I just do whatever she tells me to.”
I sigh dramatically. “If only every man was so easy to tame.”
I’d meant it as a joke, but if I’d thought about it for even a second, I wouldn’t have said the words at all. There are way too many people in this room who know way too many things for me to make a joke like that. Unfortunately Viv isn’t one of those, so she doesn’t resist an opportunity to tease.
“Oh really? And is there a particular man you’ve set your cap for, darling?”
Charlie turns off the burner on the stove and comes to stand behind her. Everyone in the room is looking at me with varying degrees of interest, but I feel Liam’s gaze the most.
“Of course.” I try to sound breezy. “And as soon as Prince Harry will condescend to answer one of my love letters, I’m sure we’ll be very happy together. You know I’ve always wanted to be a princess.”
The sound of everyone’s laughter is punctuated by the front door slamming.
“We’re here!” Malin yells from the front room.
The baby of the Ashton family apparently has little regard for the craftsmanship of the front door, because she slams it with a crash. Malin is blonde and carefree in a way only gorgeous girls in their early twenties can be. She comes waltzing into the kitchen with Casidee Taylor in tow. In quick succession she’s kissed both her parents and purloined a drink from Max.
“Is it time to eat yet?” she asks between sips. “We’re starving!”
“It is.” Viv jumps into motion. “I’m just lining it all up here on the butcher block, and you can make your plates buffet-style. We’ll sit in the dining room.”
Malin is first in line to make her plate, a whirling dervish in blue cashmere. At first glance she’d be easy to dislike—that much beauty and energy usually is. But once you get to know her, you can’t help but find all that enthusiasm charming.
“How did the apartment hunt go?” Charlie asks his youngest.
“I hated most of them,” Malin says, adding some rice to her plate.
“Why am I not surprised?” Brody teases.
“Cas hated one of them too,” she hurries to add.
Casidee pushes her glasses up on her nose.
“There was a half-naked man sitting out front,” Cas says by way of explanation.
Malin bumps her with her shoulder. “Come on. He was kind of cute.”
“He was dirty and covered in faux fur.”
“I know,” Malin says, popping a chip in her mouth. “It was, like, sexy John the Baptist.”
Charlie chokes on a swallow of beer while Viv throws Malin a chiding look.
“That comment seems inappropriate,” Viv tells her.
“No, I totally get it.” Landon grabs a plate from the stack and starts to assemble a taco. “The first time I saw Brody, my brain sort of short-circuited and I kept thinking he was like Jesus in human form.”
Brody’s laughter comes out as a bark. “What?”
Landon looks up from her plate and bites her lip nervously, apparently only just realizing how odd the statement sounded. Then she shrugs happily and keeps piling on the cilantro.
“I can’t help it. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”
Brody’s response comes out quietly on an exhale. “Ditto.”
It’s only one word, but it’s filled with emotion loud enough to melt every heart in the room. There is a single beat of silence, but it’s broken when a kitchen towel flies across my field of vision and hits Brody in the head. Everyone else piles on with boos and gagging sounds, and it’s only made worse when Brody comes around the bar and gives Landon a kiss not in any way appropriate for a family dinner. They’re both laughing when they come up for air.
“But did you find a place?” Charlie attempts to steer the conversation back to more suitable topics.
Malin smiles happily. “We sure did. You’re looking at future residents of Culver City. Try to control your jealousy.”
“Culver City is great,” I tell them both.
“And it’s safe,” Taylor adds.
“Yes, whatever you do, don’t consider anything so distasteful as Hollywood,” Max adds with fake disgust.
Her parents still haven’t gotten over her living east of La Brea.
“Wait, you two are moving in together?” Liam asks.
So far he’s been sipping a beer and only observing, a rarity for him since he’s usually carrying the conversation.
Malin and Casidee share a confused look.
“We are,” Malin tells him.
“So Landon lives with Max. Landon dates Brody, Max’s brother. Then Max dates Taylor, Landon’s friend. Now our little sister and Taylor’s little sister are becoming roommates. Have I got that right?”
The girls nod and grin.
Liam lifts a finger from his beer bottle and uses it to point at everyone in the room. “This whole group is getting a little incestuous, if you ask me.” His eyes find mine for a single second before he continues. “I’m just going to tell you right now, Tosh, I am in no way interested in being your life partner, no matter how much you look like Jesus in human form.”
Everyone laughs, but I have to force the sound from my lips. At the mention of his name, Malin realizes she hasn’t met Tosh yet and greets him with the same hug she greets everyone else with. She must get that from her mom. When it’s my turn I go through the motions of filling my plate up, but the implication in Liam’s look makes me uncomfortable. He played it off as humor, but I feel like the declaration was for me.
“What don’t you have on that taco?”
I’ve been moving so slowly down the buffet line that Liam and I are the only ones left in the kitchen. I look down at my plate along with him. The tortilla is barely visible around the heap of toppings. I’ve never met a taco ingredient I didn’t like.
“Was that little announcement for me?” I ask the pile on my plate.
His sigh brings my gaze up to his stormy blue eyes.
“You’re not very good at this, you know. You’re not supposed to ask me things like that. It just confirms why I need to make that comment in the first place.”
I look away from him.
“Was it a warning?”
“Just a statement of fact. I can see what you’re hoping for every time you look at me. I worry that everyone else can see it too.”
I shrug helplessly.
“So what if they do?”
His sigh is louder this time. I can actually see him trying to think of something to put me off. “I’m dating someone.”
I’m most
ly sure my flinch isn’t as pronounced as it feels. It’s like when Kate Daniels finally lets herself love the Beast Lord, Curran, and she makes him dinner, but he never shows up, even though he promised he would. She’s devastated, because she doesn’t know that he was actually being attacked by shape-shifters, but when she sees him again, she pretends to be totally unfazed.
Yeah, just like that.
I force myself to face him and to sound as indifferent as possible.
“You’re always dating someone, usually multiple women at once. This isn’t news.”
His eyes narrow. “Don’t pretend to be indifferent to my lifestyle, Miko. I know you’re not the kind of woman who dates casually.”
I’m fairly certain it will always come back to this with him. He’s selling any relationship short by not even giving it a chance. More than that, he’s selling himself short. How does he know he wouldn’t like a relationship if he’s never actually had one? And even if I hate that he’s using it to create another barrier between us, he’s right about the way I feel. I hate his lifestyle. Over the last year I’ve seen him with too many women to count. It wouldn’t be as terrible if I thought he was looking for forever. But what he has in mind is fleeting, the absolute opposite of what I believe in.
I believe in love and monogamy. I believe in the way Brody plays with Landon’s fingers when he thinks no one is watching or the way Taylor can’t seem to stop kissing that same spot behind Max’s ear. I believe in a lifetime of love like that of my parents, who I still find slow-dancing in the kitchen to Nat King Cole when I visit home. I believe in all of that, and I want it from Liam so badly that it makes me feel frantic. But I also believe he’s convinced himself not to want any of those things. For whatever reason, he’s blindly averse to the idea of a committed relationship, and I don’t stand a chance with him if he thinks that’s what I’m looking for.
“You don’t know anything at all about the kind of woman I am.” I let the lie fall right out of my mouth. Because of course it’s a lie. He does know what I want; he can see it in my eyes.
He opens his mouth to respond, but Max interrupts.
“What are you guys doing?”
Smart Girl Page 7
