the ceiling. “I just don’t know anymore.”
Across the circle, Bethany mouthed a silent countdown. Three, two . . .
Outside the house, a vehicle screeched to a halt, followed by a door slamming and angry boot steps storming up the walkway. The door to Bethany’s house opened without preamble and in stormed their brother in flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt, his hair still wet from the shower. “Get in the truck, Kristin.”
His wife stood her ground—or sat it, rather—refusing to turn and look at him. “You’ve done it this time,” she called dramatically. “Enjoy your life of deep-fried potatoes and fake meat.”
Stephen pointed at Bethany. “This is your fault. Putting ideas into her head.”
“You’re the one that forgot her pecan chicken!” Bethany burst out. “That shit is important.”
“Oh, now she thinks so,” Georgie drawled, reaching for the tequila.
“You’re one to talk, Georgie. This”—he waved an angry hand around—“girls’ club has taken away your common sense.”
Georgie ignored the twinge of pain in her chest, keeping her features schooled as she filled the glasses. “I’m guessing you saw the pictures.”
“Don’t remind me. I saw them coming and I still want to blind myself.”
Hope replaced the discomfort in her chest, floating up like a dozen balloons. “You saw them coming? How?”
“Travis told me you were seeing each other a couple of days ago.” He continued on as if he hadn’t made his sister capable of floating up to the moon. “It was only a matter of time before everyone took an interest. You’re not exactly a likely pair. For good reason.”
Bethany muscled up to her side, shooting a glare in Stephen’s direction. “Don’t take that line of thought any further. She’s heard enough for tonight.”
A flicker of nerves—maybe even sympathy—passed across her brother’s face. “He’s going to chew you up and spit you out, Georgie.”
“That’s my problem, Stephen. Not yours,” Georgie returned, her voice vibrating. And damn, it felt good to not only stand up to her brother, but to have him reevaluate her with a look. That’s right. I’m not just your dopey little sister.
“Fine,” Stephen finally grumbled. “I’ve got my own problems to deal with right now.”
Kristin shot to her feet. “Oh, I’m a problem now?”
“No. No, honey, I . . .” Stephen shoved a hand through his wet hair. “Can we talk about this at home?”
His wife crossed her arms and waited.
Their brother shifted in his boots. “I missed your chicken like hell, Kristin. I was going to tell you all about how leaving it behind ruined my day, but then I got to looking at the calendar. You know, the one that says when you’re . . .” He cleared his throat loudly. “It says when you’re, you know, ovulating. So I was trying to get the day cleaned off as fast as I could, so we could . . . uh. I wanted to—”
“I think we’re good here,” Georgie said, raising her hand. “I’m pretty clear on what happened and don’t need any more details. Who’s with me?”
Everyone’s hand went up besides Kristin’s and Stephen’s.
“You may take me home now, Stephen Castle,” Kristin said, lifting her chin. “Girls, you can keep the muffins.”
She’d barely finished her sentence before Stephen scooped up his wife and left the way he’d come, kicking the door shut and leaving the room awash in silence. Georgie’s pulse was still pounding a thousand miles an hour in her ears, though. Travis hadn’t told Stephen anything about their plan. Her brother couldn’t lie for shit, so that much was obvious. He’d kept their secret. He’d respected her feelings without her having to ask. It made Georgie all the more determined to rock her end of the bargain. To validate Travis’s hopes the way he was doing for her. To be on his team. In order to do that, she needed to know more about him. The things she’d missed through the lens of youth.
“You guys were in Travis’s grade, so you remember what happened with his parents. I was younger, so the details are a little blurry.” She laughed without humor as something occurred to her. “Actually, it might be the one thing we haven’t spoken about.”
Bethany winced. “It was a pretty nasty divorce. I remember overhearing Mom and Dad talking about it.”
“Nasty how?”
“There was a custody battle. Neither parent was happy with the decision, so they kind of used him to piss each other off.” Bethany frowned. “Ugh, this is making me feel bad for being mean to him. Subject change soon, okay?”
“I was