My Almost Ex (The Greene Family #2) - Piper Rayne Page 0,34

“Cade got off easy when he moved out. He doesn’t have to do these spring cleaning days anymore.”

“No, but he does have Presley to nag him to death,” I say.

Jed laughs and sits on the couch to sort through the stuff.

“Marla, I’m in the shower!” Fisher screams from the bathroom.

We laugh.

“Just stay behind the curtain,” my stepmom hollers back. “I can’t hear myself think with this music playing.”

A minute later, Fisher’s music—which he blares during every shower—is turned off.

“And I don’t want any excuses, you need to come and help your brothers.”

“I could arrest you,” Fisher grumbles.

The door opens and Dad and Rylan come back inside. I need to figure out an excuse to get out of here and I need to do it fast.

“Is he playing the arresting card again?” my dad asks.

“He is a sheriff,” Jed says.

“He’s also my son.” My dad goes to the stairs and hollers up, “Get out of the bathroom, Marla.”

She comes down, a bandana around her hair and wearing her cleaning jeans and sweatshirt that says Just the Tip. I don’t get it, but every time she wears it, Dad can’t keep his hands off her. It’s gross really. “I was just turning down the music. I couldn’t even think.”

“It’s like when they were teenagers. Hard to believe we only have one who’s home right now.” My dad’s hands slide around her waist and he walks her through the opening that leads to the kitchen.

All of us stare at one another and Rylan gags. “They’re like that all the time. Can I just move in here?”

“You should be thankful there’s not going to be a little Rylan Junior.” Jed’s eyebrows raise. “Thank God Hank got fixed after you.”

“Fixed?” Rylan looks confused.

I sit on the couch, grinning, and wait for Jed to explain the vasectomy procedure to our younger half brother.

“They cut off your balls,” Jed says simply.

The soccer ball drops from Rylan’s hands and he squeezes his legs shut. “What?” His eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them.

“Relax, they don’t cut them off,” I say, eyeing a laughing Jed. “They just cut off the route the semen takes so you can’t produce a kid.”

Rylan’s forehead wrinkles. “Semen?”

“Has Hank not given you the birds and the bees talk yet?” Jed asks.

He scowls at Jed. “I know enough.”

Jed nods. “Well, semen makes babies. Just remember that. And when you need condoms, go to Fisher.”

“Come to me for what?” Fisher comes down in a pair of track pants, pulling a T-shirt on over his tatted chest. He gives me a nod when he sees me.

“Never mind,” Rylan grumbles.

Fisher shrugs, grabs his shoes from the front entrance, and sits down.

“Where are you going? If I’m being tortured, your ass is too.” Jed abandons the laundry basket on the table and sits back comfortably into the couch.

Rylan sits on the floor, bouncing that damn soccer ball everywhere.

“Cam’s coming. I’ve got an appointment at Smokin’ Guns in Lake Starlight.”

“Another tattoo?” I ask. Not that I’m against them, but it’s like Fisher can’t stop.

“Yes, golden boy,” Fisher says, tying his shoes. “Another tattoo.”

Just then, Cameron’s truck pulls up and parks behind mine.

“Why do you call him golden boy?” Rylan asks.

Fisher stands, running his hands through his longer dark strands. Seeing him in street clothes, no one would think he was a sheriff, more like the town delinquent. “Because Adam does everything right. He married the first girl who gave him some. He’s a forest ranger, because he loves rules so much—”

“Says the sheriff.” There was a time I hated him calling me golden boy, but now that we’re older, I don’t really give a shit.

“Speaking of, where is the lady love?” Jed asks.

Marla laughs coming into the room, my dad’s hands on her sides as though he doesn’t want her to get away. Rylan groans and looks away. I can’t imagine living with those two. They’re like teenagers.

“I heard you picked her up from the inn today?” Marla continues picking stuff up from around the room and putting it in the laundry basket.

My dad sits on the edge of the couch Fisher just vacated. How does he get out of spring cleaning day?

“She’s at the cabin,” I say.

Marla stops and turns to look at me. “Alone?”

All of them look at me, even Fisher at the door.

“Yeah,” I say.

“Adam.” My dad sounds disappointed in me.

“She’s an adult.”

“With memory loss. We swore to Susan that we would look after her,” he says.

“I didn’t swear anything to Susan.” I stand, not needing