The Treble With Men (Scorned Women's Society #2) - Piper Sheldon Page 0,36

as a child had not properly equipped me to answer that. It was bigger than my parent’s home, and they weren’t particularly modest when they built the 4000 square-foot home so far outside of Green Valley, it was almost to Maryville.

I hurried up the fancy slate stairs that lead to a solid-cut steel door, my cello on my back blocking me somewhat from the downpour. As I rang the doorbell, my finger slipped and didn’t push the button exactly in the middle. I spent the longest ten seconds of my life debating whether I should push it again and potentially come off as an eager beaver, or just drop my ten-thousand-dollar cello and run.

Thankfully, the door pulled open before I did something stupid. Stupider? More stupid? An attractive man in his late thirties tilted his head at me.

“Hello,” he said like we already knew each other. He was dashing like Chris Pratt—circa the Parks and Rec years, not all ripped like in the Jurassic Park movies—but with darker hair and eyes. His kind eyes flitted over my face and an easy smile formed. He was handsome enough that direct eye contact was difficult. Also, there was a familiarity to him. A furious blush spread on my cheeks. This was why I needed to get out more. I was a grown woman. This was ridiculous.

“Hi,” I said.

His eyes moved to the massive case I was carrying on my shoulder.

“Hi,” I repeated. “I’m Christine. Well, Kim, I guess.”

“You guess?” he asked with a wry smile.

“Yes.” I shook my head and started over. “I’m here for Devlin.”

“I gathered as much. We’ve met once. You probably don’t remember.” He stepped back, gesturing me in. “Come on in. It’s getting nasty out there.”

I smiled and entered the house, noticing two surprising things: the sound of voices carrying in from the kitchen, and the smell of onions and sauce. My mouth instantly watered.

The handsome man paused just inside the door.

“I’m Wes. Dev’s brother.”

Devlin had a brother? Why did this information come as such a shock to me? It conflicted with the image I had of him as a solitary grump that sprung from the earth and dwelled in the cold basements of buildings.

“Nice to meet you.” I glanced down at my jeans and plain green T-shirt and suddenly wished I had dressed a little better. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just came to drop my cello off before our session tomorrow. He told me I could bring it by.”

His smile was so easy and quick that my mind couldn’t process the fact that this man shared the same DNA as Devlin. If it weren’t for the same brown eyes and bushy eyebrows, I wouldn’t have believed it. Though to be fair, Devlin could be a big smiler; there was no way of knowing.

“You’re not intruding. It’s just Friday family dinner. Please set that down—it’s almost as big as you.” He took the cello from my shoulder and set it gently near a hall tree.

Friday family dinner? The mind-blown emojis just kept coming.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it …” I moved to leave, but he started walking toward the kitchen, assuming I’d follow.

“You can’t leave without at least saying hi. He’s just fiddling down in his man cave—sorry, music room.”

“I guess. Just for a minute,” I mumbled.

He stopped abruptly and I almost ran into him. “Actually, can you go down and tell him that dinner is ready?”

“I don’t think—”

He placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me toward the door that lead to the stairs.

“Uh, sure. I feel like I’m imposing.” I looked over my shoulder.

He was still so relaxed. “You’re not. Just tell him to come up. He loses track of time and won’t see if I text him.”

“Okay but—”

“Great, thanks.”

The door shut behind me. No way out but through, I supposed.

No music drifted on the air this time as I descended the stairs. I checked the rehearsal space with all the padding, but it was empty. None of the rooms got a response when I called out. There was a door I hadn’t noticed before off the main room. Maybe some sort of recording booth?

I knocked but got no response. For the second time in ten minutes, I debated the awkwardness of knocking again or just tucking tail and bolting. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, I tried the door only to find it unlocked. I pushed it open and a plume of steamy air punched me in the face. The realization