Dropping The Ball - A New Year’s Billionaire Romance - Weston Parker Page 0,10

it because Billy suddenly punched my shoulder.

“Eww. I do not need to see that look on your face ever again. Go fantasize about someone else when we get home. Better yet, maybe jump into the pool and cool yourself down a little.”

“That’s a great idea.” I flashed him my most dazzling smile. “Do you think you could invite Carter over to come swimming with me?”

“You’re awful and I hate you.” He pouted and started to unload our groceries from the cart.

I helped, but that didn’t mean I had to stop antagonizing my brother. He lived in Nashville now, working in the country-music business. I only saw him a few times a year. It was my duty as his little sister to drive him as crazy as I could during the short stints of time we spent together.

Besides, everything I was saying about Carter was true.

By the time we pulled into our parents’ driveway, Billy had his ears covered and was humming a catchy tune.

My work here is done. Hopping out of the car, I grabbed a few grocery bags and whistled under my breath while walking up to our small quaint place.

It wasn’t the same rundown house we’d grown up in, but it also wasn’t the house I’d wanted to buy them a few years ago. Billy and I had tried to help our parents out financially, but they refused to accept more than the bare minimum.

It had taken us two years to convince them to let us buy them this place instead of just doing basic renovations at our old house. A part of the ceiling had literally collapsed before they’d even considered our offer.

I liked this house, though. It might be small and quaint, but it was home now. Mom had made it as cozy and homey as the other place had been, but even if it hadn’t been for the bright paint on the walls, the assortment of rugs, and the thousands of photographs, it still would’ve been home because it was where our parents were.

As scattered across the country as our family was those days, we were still close. A tent would’ve been home to me as long as my parents were there.

Mom and Dad were in the kitchen when I walked in, and both of them laughed when I told them Billy was trying to scrub his brain before coming in. They didn’t ask why. They were used to our antics.

We got started on dinner, and Billy pitched in by setting the table when he finally got over learning about my crush on his former best friend. Once we were seated and our roast chicken with vegetables was on the table, Carter was long forgotten and we were getting caught up.

Mom’s eyes locked on mine and she leaned forward. “Tell us about your comeback. It’s happening on New Year’s Eve, right?”

I nodded, nervously swiping my tongue across my lips when I thought about going back onstage. “I’m really excited, but I’m also still not sure it’s the right decision.”

“Why not? You love performing and you’re great at it.” Mom smiled but I saw the worry lurking in her eyes. “Just promise us you’re going to take care of yourself and not overdo it.”

I reached across the table to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Jules and I have been very clear about my schedule. The doctors have cleared me for work, and they’re on call if I need them. And I’ve promised to take lots of breaks.”

“What’s the problem then?” Billy asked, his blue eyes as clouded with worry as our parents’ were. Joking around with him this afternoon had been fun, but our brief foray back into the children we used to be was over now. “Has something happened we should know about?”

“Not really. People are just crazy, you know?” I cut a bite of my chicken. “I’ve gotten some death threats over the years to return to the stage. There are some crazed-ass fans out there. Between them and the press, I’m just not sure if I should be going back.”

Dad’s spine straightened and his shoulders turned rigid. “Jules told me about that. He also told me he’d take care of it. Has he gotten in touch with a good agency to get you a bodyguard yet?”

“A bodyguard?” I frowned, arching a brow at him. “Really? Jules mentioned it to me in passing, but I thought he was joking.”

“He wasn’t,” Dad said firmly, and Billy nodded. “We’re worried about you, darling. You’re downplaying