Home > Games of the Heart (The 'Burg #4)(80)

Games of the Heart (The 'Burg #4)(80)
Author: Kristen Ashley

We were in the kitchen when I turned and said, “Wait here, give me a minute.”

She nodded.

I took off down the hall calling, “Fin! You here?”

“Yeah, Aunt Dusty!” I heard from upstairs.

I turned around the foot of the stairs and jogged up. Fin met me at the top.

I looked up at him. “Got your homework done?” I asked and watched his face get slightly hard.

I’d learned since being home that Fin was way past mothering. I tried it once, he shut me down. Then, shortly after, I found he didn’t need it. He did his homework and not only that, he urged his brother to do his. He saw to shit that needed to be seen to like closing down the house at night, turning off lights, making sure doors were locked, muttering quiet words to his brother to get to bed. He’d slid without effort into Darrin’s role in the Holliday household. Surprisingly, at seventeen and very soon after his father died, he’d seen what had to be done and he already knew what he wanted in his life. So he assumed the role of the man of the house without attitude or complaint.

So an indication from me that he was still a kid was not welcome.

“I –” he started but I interrupted him.

“See, Clarisse came by to talk about learning how to ride horses and going to the mall.” The hardness swept clean from Fin’s face and his eyes went alert as I carried on, “Then she shared she hadn’t yet done her homework. Been a while since I’ve been in high school but I remember it was more fun to do it with a study partner. Not to mention, if you’ve got someone older than you, they might help you out if you got caught on something. You think you might help Rees with her homework?”

His eyes were now not only alert but alight.

“Yeah,” he said quietly and I buried my grin.

Then I said, “Well, she probably doesn’t need help walking back to her house to get her books so you two can study at the kitchen table. But I bet she wouldn’t mind the company and she’s downstairs in the kitchen now.”

Fin held my eyes. Then he jerked up his chin and instantly made to move to the stairs.

Yeah, my Finley liked Rees Haines.

I grabbed his arm quickly before he could disappear.

“Two things, honey,” I said when he turned his eyes to me.

I got another chin jerk.

God, so Darrin.

I took in a breath and reminded him in a quiet voice, “She’s fifteen and her Dad is a cop.”

“Got it,” Fin whispered.

My fingers curled deeper into his bicep and I continued, “I bet you do. But I’ll just reiterate, she’s young, she likes you, she doesn’t know anything but good men in her life so she’ll trust you and you need to protect that. And if you don’t, you’ll be answering to her father and he’s not a man whose respect you throw away. Are you with me?”

Fin held my eyes, a muscle jumping in his cheek. This was because he loved me but he was right then pissed at me. And he was because he gave a shit about Rees and my reminding him of these things, he read, was me thinking he was a certain type of guy who he might be but had no intention of being with Rees.

I got closer and said even quieter. “I’m getting the impression her Mom’s not the greatest. Someone needs to look after her. I like her. So I’ve decided that’s me. And that’s where I’m coming from with this.”

He held my eyes, the muscle stopped jerking in his cheek and he murmured, “Good. ‘Cause she does need that ‘cause her Mom’s a freakin’ bitch.”

There it was. Further confirmation.

I took my hand from his arm and encouraged, “Go forth, have fun and, you know, if she’s got tons of work to do and that leads you into dinner, shame she has to rush across the field to eat. She should just stay here. I’ll be happy to call her Dad if it comes to that.”

That got me a grin.

“I could ask but I reckon Reesee’s buried,” Fin informed me. “She’ll definitely have to stay for dinner.”

Reesee.

Nice.

If he calls her that, she probably loves it.

“Then I better call Mike,” I muttered.

“Yeah.”

I smiled at him.

He smiled back at me.

Then he jogged down the stairs.

I listened like any busybody, matchmaking aunt would do as I heard the murmurings from downstairs and the backdoor open and close. And like any busybody, matchmaking aunt would do, I rushed to the end of the hall and looked out the window to watch two teenagers walk across the field. I had no qualms doing it and was thrilled I did when a third of the way across the field, Fin got tired of Rees being shy and he teasingly bumped into her and he did it hard. She went semi-flying to the side which meant Fin had to catch her and he did this by grabbing her hand and pulling her close.

Then he didn’t let go of her hand.

I watched her tip her head back and twist it to the side to grin up at him.

Fin did the same but looking down at the same time pulling her closer.

Seriously, he was seventeen but my nephew had it going on.

I smiled, turned away from the window and remembered my hands were still slightly muddy. So I went to the bathroom, washed them, toweled off, grabbed my muddy towel and walked out.

Then I stopped.

Fin would have Kirb in his room doing his homework. As had happened since I got home, I knew Kirby wouldn’t come down and park his ass in front of the TV until he was done.

Rhonda, however, I had no clue where she was. It was two choices, kitchen or her bedroom. And she wasn’t in the kitchen.

So I headed to her bedroom.

The door was slightly ajar so I knocked and stuck my head in.

“Rhonda?”

She was on her side in the bed, back to me. She also didn’t reply. She did this a lot, lying in the bed she shared with my brother, not reading, not watching TV, just lying there.

Not good.

“Rhonda, honey, are you napping?” I called softly.

She rolled, sat up, her legs sliding over the side and she looked at me.

I knew my brother. I knew my brother was attracted to Rhonda because she was a sensitive soul he felt he needed protect. But he was also a good-looking man who found himself a very pretty woman. Twenty years and two kids later, she was no less pretty. Lots of dark hair she had cut at her shoulders, the style not overtly fashionable but definitely becoming. Big, blue eyes. Flawless skin.

Now that hair was not styled and even a little ratty, those eyes were empty and the skin was pale and not in a late February in Indiana kind of way. In a not eating enough, not getting enough exercise, breathing but not living kind of way.

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