bend, lowering the visor so the intensity of the setting sun wasn’t directly in his eyes. “Nah, I’m headed to Josie’s.”
“Yeah?” Ransom said, warmth in his tone. As Reed’s partner, Ransom and his wife Cici had been out to the farmhouse for dinner on many occasions. In a job like theirs, bonds formed quickly, families naturally mingled and expanded. They never knew when they’d all need to come together. Plus, he and Ransom had just clicked from the get-go. He considered him a brother. “Tell her I said hi. Cope too.”
“I will. See you bright and early.”
“See ya.”
The farmhouse came into view and Reed felt a ribbon of calm wrap around him. That’s all it took—just the sight of the place seemed to do that. The picturesque white house with the wraparound porch where the sound of laughter rang from every corner. It was beautiful, and homey, and Josie and Zach had worked their asses off to bring it back to its original glory over the years. But mostly, love resided there.
Reed smiled as he stepped from the car. He heard a voice from the side yard and walked toward it. Josie.
“Get out of that basket, you filthy beast!” she scolded.
He walked around the side of the house to see Josie, her back to him, pinning something to the clothesline while a muddy puppy sat on top of a half-full laundry basket at her feet, a white piece of material in its mouth as he shook his head from side to side in a tearing motion. She finished pinning and bent down, picking the puppy up and kissing it, rubbing her cheek on its face as it licked her joyfully, before she placed it on the ground. “I don’t have any idea why I put up with you,” she said, and Reed could hear the adoration in her voice. The small dog let out a bark, caught sight of its tail, and chased it in a half-circle. Josie laughed and Reed did too. At the sound, she whipped around, bringing her hands to her mouth.
“Oh my God!” she said, her face breaking into a grin. “Reed!” She walked to him quickly, throwing her arms around him and squeezing. When she stepped back, she laughed, smoothing a piece of hair away from her face. There was a smear of dirt on her cheek from the puppy. “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”
“Sorry I didn’t call—”
“Oh please, you never have to call.” The puppy jumped up, smearing dirt on his khaki pants. “Oh, no, Bandit! Down! Sorry. Zach brought this rascal home and now I’m stuck trying to teach it some manners.”
Reed laughed, squatting to pet the rambunctious puppy. “It’s fine. A new member of the family, huh?” He picked the small furball up and it licked his face, squirming with delight in his arms. He squinted up at Josie. “Seems pretty unruly. Is he safe around the children?”
“Absolutely not.”
Reed laughed, placing the puppy down and standing. “Want me to grab that?” he asked, gesturing to the basket of laundry.
“I’ll grab it later. It’ll need to be washed again anyway.” Her sigh turned into a smile as she looped her arm through his and they started walking around to the front of the house. “Can you stay for dinner?”
“If it’s not too much trouble and you have enough.”
“Are you kidding? I’m always stocked up. My pantry looks like we’re preparing for the end of the world. The amount of food those boys can eat is mind-boggling.”
Reed laughed. “I remember those days. How is everyone?”
Josie smiled. “They’re good. Great. They’re usually going in all directions, but they’re home tonight. Even Arryn’s inside working on a class project. You picked the perfect night to stop by. You can catch up with everyone.”
“Good.” Reed drew in a breath of the fresh country air, his heart feeling full. He and Josie had gotten close over the last ten years and he talked to her often by phone or text, but he hadn’t been out to the house for too long. He needed to make more of an effort to visit regularly. It always did his heart well.
“I thought we banned you from this house after the Monopoly incident two months ago.”
Reed grinned as he caught sight of his college-aged half-sister, one hip leaned in the doorway, arms folded over her chest, one eyebrow raised. “I’ve explained this already, Arryn. It’s not my fault that you end up in a debt-induced hysteria every time I attempt