Revealing Annie - Freya Barker Page 0,48

steps. “You look just like your father. Such a handsome boy.”

Bryce stiffens slightly and I give his waist an encouraging squeeze before letting him go. Only for the older woman to pull the poor, frozen kid in a hug.

“Mom, you’re freaking the kid out. Let him up for air.” Sumo walks up and calmly untangles Bryce from her hold. “Kid, in case you hadn’t clued in yet,” he says, putting a casual but very telling hand in the boy’s neck. “This slightly excitable creature is your grandmother, Elena.”

“Call me Grams,” his mother says immediately, smiling broadly through her tears.

“Cool,” Bryce mumbles, looking everywhere but at her.

“This is my dad, Haru.”

The older man steps forward and holds out his hand.

“And you can call me anything you damn well like.”

“Haru! Don’t swear in front of the boy,” Elena hisses.

I can barely hold the giggle that wants to escape. Especially when I hear Sumo mumble under his breath, “Jesus, spare me.”

That results in a sharp glance from his mother, which he quickly dodges by inviting his parents in.

“Let’s take it inside, okay? There’s someone else I’d like you to meet.” With his free arm he tugs me close to his side where I cling, as frozen as Bryce was. “This is Annie.”

Somehow I manage to get through the introductions when Daisy starts barking outside.

“You have a dog too?” Elena says, but as she’s about to head for the back door I put a careful hand on her arm.

“Daisy—I mean Dee,” I correct myself quickly with a wink at Bryce, “is a little shy with new people.”

“Come on, Mom, let me give you and Dad a tour of the house first.” Sumo turns to Bryce, still holding on to his neck. “Son, think you can manage getting the bags from their car?”

Bryce jerks like he was struck and it takes him a second before he can answer.

“Sure.”

“May wanna bring a pack mule for your grandmother’s suitcase. She packed for a year with no access to stores, instead of a week within walking distance from all necessities of life,” Haru announces as he hands the car keys to Bryce, who ducks his head to hide a grin.

“You exaggerate as usual, Haru,” Elena counters, to which her husband rolls his eyes.

“It’s hardly an overnight bag,” he mumbles defiantly, as Bryce wisely slips out the front door. I wish I could go with him.

“Before you two scare everyone off, why don’t we start upstairs with that tour?” Sumo says, giving my shoulder a squeeze before releasing me.

“Shall I make some coffee?” I offer.

“If you don’t mind? We’ll be right down,” he says, bending his head to brush my lips with his.

I glance at his mother, who has her hands clamped to her chest and looks like she’s about to cry. Her husband firmly grabs her elbow and steers her to the stairs. I turn to put on a pot of coffee and process.

Bryce just passed me on his way to the basement minutes ago, grumbling under his breath his grandfather wasn’t kidding. I’m still grinning as I put away the last of the dishes from the dishwasher when I hear footsteps behind me.

“One of the things I’ve done more of than I care to admit since I had my stroke a few years ago…” I turn to find Haru leaning against the kitchen island. “…is watch daytime TV.”

I press a hand to my chest where my heart takes off in a hearty gallop, as panic takes me in its grip.

“I, uh…”

“Does my son know who you are?”

“Yes,” I croak.

“From a distance I thought you were the woman who gave birth to my grandson. When I got closer you looked familiar, but I was thrown off by the hair and the eyes, only for a moment. Did Kyle mention I have a knack for remembering faces?” I shake my head. “Yeah, it can be a blessing and a curse. I literally can’t unsee anything.” He chuckles at his own joke.

“Eidetic memory.”

He looks at me with an eyebrow raised. “Most people just say photographic memory.”

“Most people didn’t play a doctor for almost twenty years.”

That makes him chuckle again. When he smiles he has the same laugh lines his son has and I realize—but for the first impression I had of him as a stern man—like Sumo, Haru has a sense of humor.

“Touché.” The smile disappears and he tilts his head. “So, the hair, the eyes, the glasses—safe to guess you didn’t want to be recognized?”

“That was the idea,” I