“If you really want to be a good brother, you can come for dinner tonight.”
His face becomes a mask of confusion. I think he’s come to my apartment for dinner all of twice in the eleven years I’ve lived there. “Dinner? Why?”
“Mel’s sister is staying with us until tomorrow. I have some news I need to break to them about their father’s murder. It would make me feel a hell of a lot better to have someone there who will stop either of them from trying to slit my throat with a steak knife.”
Elijah’s brow furrows. “What have you found out about Luke Edison’s murder?”
I check my watch and curse under my breath. I’m going to be late for a meeting if I don’t leave now. “I’ll fill you in tonight. You can be there at seven, yeah?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t. Amber has a society thing she has to attend tonight. I’m supposed to go.”
“You hate those fucking things. I need you there, bro.”
He winces, and I know I’m asking a lot. His marriage is in big trouble, and him blowing off his wife and one of her fancy society events is likely to piss her off big time. But it’s not like she’s ever there for him when he needs her. “Can’t you ask Mason?”
“Can’t. He’s dating some actor now, and he flew to London last night to watch him in a show. Drake has a deposition on Monday that he has to prep for, so he won’t fly from Chicago for one night. And before you suggest Maddox, I have no idea where the fuck he is right now.”
“So I’m your last resort?”
I shrug. “Kinda.”
He snorts a laugh and shakes his head. He knows that’s not true. “Fine. I’ll come to dinner.”
“Thanks, buddy. I really do appreciate it.”
Chapter
Sixty-Three
MELANIE
“What time is dinner?” Ashley lifts the lid from the pan on the stove and peers inside.
Nathan shoos her away. “Seven.”
She rests her hip on the counter and watches him chop vegetables. “And your brother’s coming, right? Elijah?”
“Yeah.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Does he look like you?”
Nathan shrugs. “I guess so. Why?”
Her lips twitch in a devious smirk. “Ashley!” I admonish her. “That’s my husband you’re flirting with there.” I wince the second the words leave my mouth. Can I still call him my husband given that we’re about to be divorced?
Nathan spins on his heel and looks at me with wide eyes. “Is your baby sister flirting with me?”
“Relax, Ice. She flirts with everyone.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners. He grins at me, and I smile back. A wide genuine smile. Having Ashley here is good for us. She’s like a buffer tempering the constant tension that fizzles between Nathan and me. And right now, everything feels relaxed and—dare I say it—normal.
“Can I flirt with your brother then?” she asks Nathan.
“No. He’s married too,” he replies, turning his attention back to the cutting board.
“Shoot.” My little sister pouts.
Nathan flashes her a grin and signals for her to pass him the head of broccoli on the counter next to her elbow.
Ashley asks him about his job and seems fascinated by the fact that he’s worked with some of the most infamous criminals in the country. He answers her eager questions with patience. God, he would have made such a great dad. My heart aches, and I press a hand to my empty stomach, swallowing down the bitter feelings of regret now stirring.
Their chatter goes on in the background, and the normalcy of it soothes a little of the empty feeling inside me. For the first time in over a week, I actually believe that happiness won’t elude me forever. There will be a rainbow after this storm. I simply have to be patient.
When Elijah gets here, Ashley rushes out to greet him, always eager to meet new people. When we’ve all exchanged pleasantries, we head back to the kitchen, and she pulls me aside. “He’s even hotter than his brother,” she whispers in my ear, giggling.
Like hell he is. “He’s also way too old for you. And he’s married,” I remind her.
She spins around in front of me, sticking out her tongue. “Doesn’t mean I can’t admire the view.”
I shake my head. Dinner is sure going to be interesting.
Chapter
Sixty-Four
NATHAN
Iclear my throat, and Elijah shoots me a concerned look, like he knows I’m about to toss a hand grenade into the middle of our pleasant dinner.
