“You’ll always be my kid sister. Even when you’re old and fat and wrinkly.”
“I’m not going to get fat!” I whack him on the arm playfully. “You, on the other hand…” I grimace. “I see a beer belly in your future.”
He makes an outraged sound and pulls up his shirt. “Washboard, baby. You could crack an egg on these.”
“Ew.”
He grins, a boyish smile lighting up his whole face. “The ladies don’t complain.”
I feign gagging noises. “Sorry, I just threw up in my mouth.”
“Sweet P, don’t make me give you a noogie.”
I roll my eyes at his childish threat. “Oh no! What’s next? An Indian sunburn? I’msoscared.”
He laughs, then turns to Nate for some kind of weird man-hug ritual, which involves unintelligible grunting and backslapping.
Ah, bromance.
I watch their reunion, a happy smile stretching my cheeks wide. It’s great to have Parker home, even if he spends the whole visit calling me names and giving me a hard time.
Sweet P.
The old nickname hits me with a wave of nostalgia.
When I was two, I couldn’t for the life of me pronouncePhoebe— the closest I could get wasPee-Bee. So Parker, loving big brother that he is, took to calling mePee-Pee— insert six-year-old boy giggles here — which was eventually shortened toPand finally, transformed intoSweet Pwhen we were old enough to stop fighting over LEGOs and blaming each other for pilfering the last Hostess cupcake from our nanny’s secret stash above the fridge.
“Knox, you got a kitten and didn’t tell me?” His voice is teasing as he bends to scratch Boo behind one tiny white ear. The poor thing has been running circles around his legs, seeking his attention since the moment he arrived.
“Shut up,” I say sweetly. “You remember Boo, your nephew-in-paw. You met last time you were home.”
“Must’ve blocked him from my memory.” Parker grins wide as he greets the small Pom. He’s so full of shit. He may act like a macho man who only likes dogs over a hundred pounds, but last time he came to visit I caught him napping on my couch with Boo snoring on his chest. They’re best buds.
“I didn’t know you were coming home,” I say, scooping up the Pomeranian. He licks my cheek, then proceeds to squirm until I release him.Soaffectionate, my demon-dog. “You could’ve called.”
“You know who could’ve called?You. When you were kidnapped by the fucking mob.” Parker crosses his arms over his broad chest and levels me with a look that probably strikes fear into the hearts of cheating bimbos worldwide. “Did you really think I’d stay away, when I heard?”
I drop my eyes from his, watching as Boo hops onto Nate’s couch and settles in like he owns the place. “I didn’t want to bug you.”
“You’re my sister. Your life was in danger.” He glares at me, hazel eyes serious. “You think I give a shit if youbug me?”
My mouth opens as I try to think of a good response. A morose “sorry” is all I can come up with.
Parker nods. “You need me, I’m on a plane home. No questions asked. You should know that.”
I sigh.
“Hey, you thirsty?” Nate asks Parker, walking toward the kitchen. “Want a beer?”
I try not to blush as I turn and catch sight of the counter. If I’m not mistaken, there’s a faint outline of my body in the flour still scattered there.
“I’m on Australia time.” Parker grins. “How ‘bout some caffeine instead?”
Nate reaches for the filters. “How do you take your coffee?”
“Very seriously.” Parker’s voice is solemn.
“I see your jokes haven’t improved,” I say, trying to shove him and nearly falling on my face when he dodges at the last second.