I wasn’t even interested in dating him—wasn’t interested in dating anyone—but my parents had forced my hand. As usual, under their pressure, I folded and ended up spending more time with him than I wanted to. I had managed to tolerate him for a lot longer than I thought I would be able to. After all, Gabe was way more interested in himself than in me. It wasn’t until he had started pushing for sex—making me uncomfortable by grabbing and touching things I didn’t want his hands anywhere near—that I cut the cord. Unfortunately, neither he nor my parents seem to have gotten the message and I have been inundated with calls, texts, and emails for the last two weeks. Gabe was easy enough to dodge; my mother not so much.
I was shoving the phone into my back pocket when a quiet voice stopped me. “What’s going on with you, little girl? I’ve been gone for over eighteen months and all I get is a hug and a peck on the cheek before you disappear? Where are the tears? Where’s the hysterics that I’m home safe and sound? What’s working in that complicated brain of yours? Because I can tell something is on your mind.”
I hiccupped a little laugh and let my forehead fall onto the strong chest in front of me. Even battered and bruised Rome was the kind of guy who stood between the people he loved and anything that might possibly hurt them. He patted the top of my head and laid a heavy hand on the back of my neck. “I missed your pretty face, Shaw; you don’t know how good it is to be home.”
I shuddered a little and wrapped a careful arm around his waist so that I could give him a squeeze and not hurt him. “I missed you, too, Rome. I’m just stressed out. School is crazy right now, I’m working three or four nights a week, and my parents won’t get off my back about this guy I just broke up with. You know I love it when we’re all together. I thought your mom was going to have a heart attack when she called to tell me what happened to you. I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t think this family would be able to handle losing another Archer son.”
“No, probably not. I can’t believe she still has you playing chauffeur for my idiot brother.”
I hooked my arm through his and we started to make our way to the dining room. “It’s the only way he’ll come. If I have to miss it because of school or because something comes up he just blows them off. Half the time when I get to the apartment he doesn’t even know what day it is and has to scramble to get out the door. Today would be a prime example of that. If I show up he feels obligated to come with me no matter what or who he’s in the middle of doing.”
Rome swore under his breath. “It wouldn’t kill that kid to play nice with Mom and Dad once a week. He shouldn’t need you to be his babysitter.”
I shrugged my shoulders because we both knew that all the Archer brothers had a role. Remy had been the good son, the straight-A student, the future Ivy Leaguer. He was also the one saddled with the role of keeping Rule out of jail and running interference when his twin got into trouble that he couldn’t talk his way out of. Rule was the wild card, the one who lived life to the fullest and made no apologies to those he might offend or hurt along the way. Rome was the boss and the twins adored him and followed his lead through good and bad, because lord knew with the way the three of them looked, there was lots and lots of bad thrown their way. With Remy gone it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that Rome had become even more protective of his remaining brother and that I had fallen seamlessly into the role of trying to keep Rule on some kind of straight and narrow path.
“It’s the least I can do for Margot and Dale. They’ve always done so much for me and asked for so little in return. Suffering Rule’s wrath once a week is a pretty easy sacrifice to make.”
Something flashed in his eyes, which were so much like his brother’s that it sometimes hurt to look into them. Rome wasn’t anyone’s fool and it wouldn’t surprise me if he knew more about all the things I kept locked up than he let on.
“I just don’t want you being the target of Rule being Rule. Mom needs to get over her shit and so does he. Everyone is grown now and life is too short for you to be constantly playing the peacemaker between those two.”
I sighed and lowered my voice as we got to the entrance of the dining room. The table was already set and everyone was already in his regular seat. Dale was at the head of the table, Margot on his right, with an open spot for me. His left side was open for Rome, and Rule had taken the seat at the opposite end of the table as far away from both of his parents as he could get. “They need to move past the fact that he’s never going to be Remy, and he has to stop intentionally cramming that fact down their throats. Until one side gives and learns how to forgive it’s always going to be this way.”
He pressed a superlight kiss to my temple and gave me a little squeeze back. “I don’t think any of them realize how lucky they are to have you, little girl.”
I let him go and went to take my seat between Margot and Rule. I tried not to wince when Rule sent a narrow-eyed look in my direction, knowing Rome and I had more than likely been whispering about him. I slid into my spot and flashed Dale a smile as he started passing the typically lavish food around. I was about to ask Rome what he planned to do with his time off when Margot had me snapping my head around in shock.
“Would it be too much of a stretch to expect you to come to brunch in a shirt that buttons and in a pair of pants that don’t look like they came from a thrift store? I mean, your brother has several broken bones and was in a horrific accident and he still manages to look more put together than you, Rule.”
I had to bite my tongue to stop from snapping at her to lay off him. Mostly because family gatherings were supposed to be informal and fun. I knew good and well that if I had shown up in jeans and a T-shirt she wouldn’t even have blinked, but because it was him she viewed it as a direct attack on her.
He picked a couple pieces of bacon off the platter I handed to him and didn’t even bother to respond to her. Instead, he turned to Rome and asked what his plans were while he was home. Rule wanted him to come to the city for a week and spend time with him and Nash. I saw Margot’s mouth tighten at the dismissal and Dale’s eyebrows pull down in a frown. I saw varying degrees of the same look every Sunday we were here. It hurt my chest because even in a rumpled shirt and torn jeans Rule was the kind of guy who owned whatever look he was wearing. It was the same thing with the mass amounts of tattoos that covered him from head to toe and the array of metal that dotted his face here and there.
There was no denying Rule was a good-looking guy, probably too good-looking, to be honest, but he was complicated, and the beauty he possessed was buried and camouflaged under things that weren’t easy to look past. Of all the brothers, he has the clearest, most arctic blue eyes, and his hair, even when it’s decorated with purple or green or blue, is still the thickest and the shiniest. Even with every color under the sun dancing across his skin, of the three of them, Rule had always been the one the girls gravitated to. Just like the brunette at Starbucks this afternoon. Her name was Amy Rodgers, and I had spent all four years of high school being tormented by her and her cheerleader cronies. She dated jocks and boys who bled blue, not guys who rocked Mohawks and had their eyebrows and lips pierced, but even she couldn’t resist all that was Rule Archer in his magnetic glory.
“And what’s going on with your hair, son?” Dale asked. “A color actually found in nature might be a nice change of pace, especially since the whole family is together and we’re all lucky to have your brother home in one piece.”
I groaned inwardly and silently took the bowl of fruit Margot handed me. Now that they had teamed up on him there was no way he was going to stay quiet. Normally, he ignored his mom and shot sarcastic one-liners at Dale, but being interrupted and attacked from both sides while he was trying to catch up with Rome wasn’t going to fly. Rule had a short fuse on a good day but corner him when he was hungover and being reluctantly civil at best—the fur was, no doubt, going to fly. I shot Rome