Unraveling Him: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 3)

by Claire Kingsley

  I certainly wasn’t hoping he’d decide to let me sleep in his bed with him every night. That wouldn’t make any sense. Opposite sex roommates didn’t just randomly share a bed for no reason.

  Okay, I was hoping he might, but I also knew the chances were basically zero.

  We spent the next few hours focusing on his business and my new, rather impromptu job. I told him more about what I’d done for my dad—everything, more or less—and we worked out the things he needed me to help with. That turned into a crash course in his barely decipherable organizational system and I decided his office needed an overhaul.

  He left me to it and went out to the shop. I sorted through stacks of paperwork and a haphazard collection of office supplies, creating order out of chaos with the sound of Evan’s tools and his heavy metal music in the background.

  It was the best work day I’d had in… maybe ever.

  I’d totally lost track of time when Evan appeared in the office doorway. His hands were dirty, his hair a little disheveled, and he filled out his t-shirt and jeans like they’d been invented for the sole purpose of making him look hot.

  “It’s getting late,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

  As if on cue, my stomach growled at me. “Starving.”

  “I was thinking of going into town and grabbing something. Do you want to come? It’s on me.”

  I smiled at him. “That sounds great.”

  He nodded in the direction of the house. “I need a shower first.”

  Oh god. Evan in the shower.

  I glanced away quickly, trying to erase the memory of—

  Stop, Fiona. Don’t even think it.

  “Great,” I said. “I’ll just finish up with these and I’ll be ready to go.”

  He nodded and left. I let out a long breath.

  I needed to get my hormones under control. Had Evan and I become friends? Yes, I’d say we definitely had. Had we shared a couple of comfortable and also awkward nights in a bed together? Yes, we’d done that too. But despite the way the mere sight of him could light me like a match, there was nothing sexual between us. Plus, I was working for him now. Sleeping in his house, yes. Sleeping with him, absolutely not. I needed to keep some boundaries in place, otherwise I was going to find myself in all kinds of trouble.

  Getting on a motorcycle behind a freshly showered Evan was not the best way to keep my resolve. My hormones danced and sang at his closeness, focusing my attention on how insanely hot he looked in his leather jacket and how good it felt to wrap my arms around his waist and hold on.

  And really, what was the harm of enjoying the ride?

  We rode into town and he parked outside a restaurant called the Caboose. Inside, we were greeted by a hum of noise and the alluring scent of bad-for-you food. The place was adorable, decorated with railroad signs and model trains.

  Evan led the way to the bar area, but paused before we got to one of the open tables. “My brother’s here.”

  I couldn’t tell by his tone if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Which brother?”

  “Asher. Come on.”

  Once I knew he was here, I picked out Evan’s brother Asher easily. He had similar dark features, although his expression was slightly softer. I had a feeling that had a lot to do with the pretty blond woman next to him. He had his arm around the back of her chair and he leaned close to smell her hair. She turned toward him and his gaze had such a mix of tenderness and desire, it made my chest ache.

  Wow. Women of the world, get yourself a man who looks at you like Asher Bailey gazes at his girl.

  Another woman sat at the table with them. She had gorgeous red hair and wore a black shirt with cropped jeans and cherry red heels. She idly stirred a drink with a small straw, her eyes wandering as if she were bored. Or maybe trying to ignore the happy couple across from her.

  We stopped next to their table and all three of them seemed surprised to see Evan. Or maybe their surprise was for me. It was hard to tell.

  “Hey, man,” Asher said.

  “This is Fiona,” Evan said. He stopped there, as if my first name was the only thing they needed to know. “My brother Asher, his fiancée Grace, and that’s Cara.”

  “So nice to meet you,” Grace said. “Do you guys want to join us?”

  Her offer gave me a little ping of happiness. I did want to join them. Asher’s other brothers had been pretty cool to talk to, and the chance to meet more of his family sounded fun. I glanced up at Evan, but his expression gave nothing away.

  Then again, maybe it did. He wasn’t scowling. That was probably an affirmative.

  “If you’re sure you don’t mind,” I said.

  “Not at all,” Grace said.

  Cara twisted around in her seat, as if to get a better view of me, and tapped her lips with a finger. “Definitely not a mail-order bride.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Could have been a hitchhiker, but that’s not the vibe I’m getting either,” Cara continued, scrutinizing me. “Lost in the woods never made any sense. I’d put my money on friend from college, even though that’s boring, but I’m not ruling out live-in dog sitter.”

  I glanced at Evan as we took our seats, but he just shrugged, like he didn’t know what she was talking about either.

  “Did you really expect any of the rumors to be true?” Grace asked.

  “You never know,” Cara said. “Sometimes they’re close.”

  “Rumors?” I asked.

  “Sorry,” Grace said. “People around here like to tell stories.”

  “And by that she means the entire town is full of professional gossips,” Cara said. “Once you get used to it, it’s actually quite entertaining.”

  “People think I’m Evan’s mail-order bride?” I asked.

  Evan groaned.

  “I agree, too cliché,” Cara said. “So what is your story?”

  “Maybe let her get a drink first,” Grace said.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “The short version is that I made a crazy plan to escape a crappy family-slash-job situation, but things didn’t quite go as planned. So here I am.”

  Cara’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s much more interesting than the rumors. What was so crappy that made crashing at the nightmare cabin with the broodiest Bailey a better option?”

  I laughed. “It’s not so bad. I worked for my father, which wasn’t that great of a job in the first place, but he kind of made it hard to leave. Dad used to be into stuff that was… not legal. He almost got caught once and he promised he’d stay legit after that. But I found out he’s been working with this creepy guy from his crime days again.”

  “That’s not good,” Grace said.

  “No, it’s really not good. And then I found out he was sleeping with my best friend.”

  “Wait,” Cara said, holding up a hand. She put down her drink. “Your dad was banging your bestie?”

  I scrunched my nose. “Yes. I even heard… never mind. It’s gross.”

  Her mouth hung open like she couldn’t believe what I was saying.

  “Do you want to know what’s really messed up?” I didn’t know why I kept talking. I’d just met these people, but I couldn’t seem to stop. “Neither of them seemed to think there was anything wrong with it. I guess they’re both adults, but still. He’s known her since she was little and he was friends with her dad. And it’s not just that they were sleeping together; they’d been lying to me about it for months. She let me believe she was hooking up with her asshole ex because it made good cover.”

  “What’s her name?” Cara asked, her voice monotone.

  Grace reached across the table and put a hand over Cara’s. “Easy, honey.”

  “Tell me who she is so I can burn down her fucking life.”

  I blinked at Cara in alarm. “That’s okay, I don’t need anyone to burn down her life.”

  “Simone something,” Evan said, his voice casual. “I don’t know her last name, but she works for Gallagher Auto. That should be eno
ugh to find her.”

  Cara gave Evan a smile tinged with malevolence. “Oh, I’ll find her.”

  “Do I need to be concerned about this?”

  Evan shrugged. “Probably.”

  “No,” Grace said. “Because Cara’s not going to do anything.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. “I don’t actually want anything terrible to happen to her.”

  “Oh my god, Grace, she’s so nice, it’s adorable,” Cara said. “Can’t I ruin someone’s life for her?”

  “Maybe we should invite her to Stitch and Sip instead.”

  Cara took a sip of her drink. “Fine. We can gently fold her into Tilikum life with the Stitch and Bitch ladies. That’s not nearly as fun, but maybe it’s the healthier option.”

  “I think so,” Grace said with a smile. “Stitch and Sip is our weekly crochet and knitting group. The sip part used to mean tea until our resident bartender joined.”

  “That’s really nice of you, but I don’t know how to knit or crochet.”

  “That’s okay,” Grace said. “Neither does Cara.”

  “I beg to differ, my vibrant tropical fish. You taught me how to crochet.”

  Grace tilted her head in acquiescence. “Let me rephrase. Cara can crochet, but she’s terrible at it, and still a happy Stitch and Sip member.”

  Cara rolled her eyes. “I’d be offended, but you’re not wrong.”

  “My point is, you can come anyway,” Grace said. “It’s a fun group. We’d love to have you.”

  My eyes filled with sudden tears and my throat closed up over my attempt to say thank you. Glancing away, I bit my lip, trying to get a hold of myself. I didn’t understand where this sudden rush of emotion had come from.

  “Sorry.” I sniffed. “That’s just so nice of you. I’d love to come.”

  “Good,” Grace said brightly. “It’s Monday nights at the Knotty Knitter. I can text you the details.”

  We ordered drinks and food and everything came out quickly. My cheeseburger was great and the onion rings were amazing. Evan and his brother chatted idly about cars, then moved on to a recent MMA fight they’d both watched.

  “So, did Evan say you’re Asher’s fiancée?” I asked Grace.

  She smiled and glanced at her ring. “Yep. The wedding is coming up soon.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. I’m really excited.”

  “It’s going to be the most beautiful wedding in the history of ever.” Cara pulled out her phone. “I don’t have pictures of Grace’s dress, but this is what the bridesmaids are wearing.”

  Cara showed me a photo of a gorgeous pale blue dress. She also had pictures of the cake design, bouquets, and their ideas for the reception décor. The wedding was going to be at Grace’s family’s winery, and they showed me photos of that, too.

  It was fun to talk weddings with a couple of girls. The only wedding I’d ever been to was a mechanic who’d worked for my dad. It had been in someone’s backyard and they’d served barbecue and beer.

  “Holy shit, Fiona, you actually got him out of his cave.” Logan came up to our table, a beer in his hand. “Haven’t you already been out in public this week, Evan? Are you feeling okay?”

  “You’re a dumbass,” Evan said.

  “That’s an understatement,” Cara said.

  Logan glared at her and took the seat next to Asher. “Whatever, strawberry crazycake.”

  “Coming here was his idea,” I said. “But I guess even the lone wolf has to come out once in a while.”

  “True. Did you meet Gram already?” Logan asked.

  “Gram? Is that your grandma? No, I haven’t.”

  “Huh.” He took a swig of beer. “You said wolf, so I figured you got that from Gram.”

  Evan glanced at me with that brow furrow on full display. It made me all tingly inside and I had the strangest urge to slip my hand onto his thigh under the table.

  “Do you want another beer?” he asked.

  “What?” Had I been staring into his eyes? God, how embarrassing. “No, I think I’m good for now.”

  With a short nod, he got up and went to the bar.

  I shifted in my seat, pretending that brief look hadn’t hypnotized me in front of a table full of people. Under different circumstances, I probably would have had one more beer, but right now I needed to keep my faculties—and my inhibitions—intact.

  Otherwise I was going to do something very stupid.

  Grace and Cara shared a look. Glancing away, I brushed my bangs out of my eyes and tucked my hair behind my ear.

  “She really is adorable, isn’t she,” Cara said to Grace. “Can we adopt her?”

  “Hmm, how does one adopt an adult?” Grace asked, her tone suggesting it was a completely normal question.

  “We’ll just write up an adoption agreement. Do you have a pen?”

  Grace pulled a pen out of her purse and handed it to Cara.

  She slid a napkin in front of her and started writing. “Thank you, boo. Now, Fiona, you don’t have to change your last name just because we’re adopting you, especially since my idea for a joint last name for me and Grace is apparently off the table.”

  “Joint last name?” I asked.

  “When Grace’s marriage to Asher was still… let’s say up in the air… I suggested we become platonic non-lesbian life partners with a sexless marriage, in which case I would have been delighted to take Grace’s last name. Cara Miles sounds perfect. Unfortunately, my boo over there is marrying Asher—which, don’t get me wrong, makes me happy because it makes her happy. But that puts me in a bit of a bind when it comes to my platonic non-lesbian life partner status, as well as what name I’ll take when we make it official.”

  “Cara, she’s marrying me,” Asher said.

  She waved her hand like that wasn’t important. “Details. She’s still mine in ways you’ll never understand. But now she and I can’t have the same last name because she’s becoming a Bailey, and that’s a hard no for me.”

  Logan choked on a drink of his beer.

  “You okay?” Asher asked.

  “Yeah.” Logan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I was just momentarily horrified at the thought of Cara becoming a Bailey.”

  “Not in your wildest dreams,” she said.

  Logan winced. “That would be my nightmare.”

  Cara lowered the pen, her eyes on Logan. “Where’s Levi tonight? I bet he could use some company.”

  “You stay the fuck away from him.”

  “Why?” Cara asked, her voice sugary sweet. “I think Levi and I could be great together.”

  Logan’s jaw hitched and his nostrils flared. He stood abruptly. “I need another beer.”

  I had no idea what was going on between the two of them, but they were as bad as Evan and Luke Haven. Cara blew a kiss at his back as he walked to the bar.

  “Where was I?” Cara asked.

  “Last names,” Grace said.

  “Right. Since Grace and I can’t have the same last name, I’m thinking maybe I use her maiden name, Miles. It would be like a tribute to the Grace Miles I know and love. Or maybe hyphenate. Cara Goulding-Miles isn’t bad. What do you think?”

  “Why do you want to change your name at all?” I asked.

  “It’s symbolic.”

  “But maybe you’ll wind up in a happy heterosexual marriage, with sex, and you’ll take his name,” Grace said. “Or hyphenate yours with his.”

  Cara laughed while she wrote something on the napkin. “You’re so cute, but we both know I’m not wife material. Fiona, what’s your current last name?”

  “Gallagher.”

  She wrote something else, then slid the napkin over to Grace and handed her the pen. “Sign at the bottom.”

  Grace held the napkin in place with one hand and signed her name.

  Cara took it and ceremoniously laid it in front of me. “Fiona Gallagher, Grace and I hereby adopt you to be our no
n-lesbian platonic life partner child.”

  I read the napkin. It reiterated what she’d said and had space at the bottom for me to sign.

  “This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me,” I said, fighting back tears again. “I know you’re just being silly, but I’ve never had a lot of friends. And the one I did have was banging my dad.”

  Cara put a hand on my arm and met my eyes, her expression completely serious. “I swear to you, I will never bang your dad. May my vagina wither up and die, never to be banged by a big dick again, should I ever betray you.”

  Evan stopped next to his chair, eying Cara like he was trying to decide whether to sit back down or grab me and run out the door.

  I took the pen and signed my name at the bottom. “Done. Do you want to keep this, or should I?”

  “You hang onto it,” Cara said. “Just keep it safe.”

  “I will.” And I meant it. Silly as it was, this really did mean a lot to me. I folded it gently and tucked it in my purse.

  Had I just made two new girlfriends? Best day ever.

  We hung out for a while longer, idly chatting, and I decided to have another beer. Instead of talking to his brother, Asher seemed to become increasingly preoccupied with Grace. He played with her hair and leaned in to gently kiss her neck. Eventually, they got up to leave and said goodbye. By the look in their eyes, I could tell exactly why they wanted to go home.

  I was more than a little jealous.

  Cara got up and dragged me to my feet so she could hug me. After making me promise I’d always wear a helmet when I rode with Evan on his motorcycle, she left.

  “We can go if you’re ready,” I said.

  Evan gestured to my half-empty beer bottle. “No hurry.”

  I sat back down. “Asher and Grace sure are a cute couple. How long have they been together?”

  “They were best friends as kids. Started dating in college, I guess.”

  “They’ve been together since college? Why did they wait so long to get married?”

  “It wasn’t by choice. Asher spent seven years in prison.”

  “Oh my god. For what?”

  “Manslaughter. A guy attacked Grace in a bar. Asher killed him.”

  “Are you serious? But why did he go to prison for that? Wouldn’t that be considered self-defense or something?”