“Solid plan.”
She smacked me on the chest before opening the door and then slamming it again.
“Avery?”
“The moms.” She breathed out the words like a curse.
“What do you mean ‘the moms’?”
“They’re there.”
A knock sounded.
Avery backed up.
I rolled my eyes. “What are they going to do, ground you?”
When I opened the door, I grinned wide and tried to think of a good greeting for Avery’s mother other than “Lovely day” or “You look just like your daughter!” Because neither was going to earn me any points since I’d just had my way with her daughter on my childhood dresser.
“Lucas Thorn!” Mom stomped her foot. “We have guests!”
“We were just, um”—Avery piped in—“looking for . . .” And silence. Good, Avery, great lie.
“I know exactly what you were looking for, young lady!” Tess pressed her hands on her temples. “I can’t believe you two! You”—she thrust a finger at me—“keep it in your pants. Do you even realize how high we had to raise the volume on the music to keep people from asking questions! Your father started dropping metal pans . . . on purpose.”
My lips twitched.
Mom smacked me in the arm. “This isn’t funny.”
“No, ma’am.” Avery nodded sternly. “And I apologize that I allowed him to lure me into his sex lair.”
Tess rolled her eyes heavenward, and I elbowed Avery in the side.
“You poor, poor girl,” Mom said, dripping with sarcasm. “That must have been why you screamed his name. You were angry, terrified, I imagine.”
“He’s very . . . intimidating.”
“All Thorn men are that way . . . in the bedroom.”
I groaned and waved my hands in the air. “This conversation just took a really unfortunate turn. We’ll go make sure the guests are happy and eat cake, and forget this ever happened.”
“I highly doubt poor Rocko will forget.” Mom sighed. “Poor dog was in the corner howling and then tried to hump your father’s leg!”
“Rocko always humps things.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you caused it.”
I caused a dog to hump my father? Yeah, I needed a drink. “Avery”—I grabbed her hand—“let’s leave the moms to their scheming.”
A smile tugged at my lips—it felt good to see them together again, even if they had the worst timing in the world.
We sidestepped our mothers and quickly headed to the kitchen. The music was so loud it was almost painful.
Avery grabbed two glasses of wine and handed one to me, then stole mine back and started sipping from both.
“Avery Bug, they’re the same.”
Her face paled.
I frowned and then felt a tap-tap-tap on my shoulder. There are times in a man’s life when he can sense something is wrong with the universe, and in that strange moment, as the hair on my arms stood on end and as the room fell relatively silent, I knew that turning around would change everything—but it didn’t stop me from doing it.
From turning.
And coming face to face with Molly.
My Monday.
On the arm of Brooke Black.
Chapter Forty
AVERY
I froze.
It was an unfortunate time for my body to become that of a traitorous whore, but there it was. I froze while Brooke eyed me up and down with smug amusement and then grinned, which hurt worse than she could ever imagine or possibly know, because she was my sister! Why would she be happy to hurt me? After that night four years ago, I’d believed Brooke’s lie that Lucas had seduced her and practically begged her for sex.
Was it Lucas who had broken my family?
Maybe what I thought was petty jealousy among sisters was actually something deeper and more hateful. Maybe it was easier to put the blame at Lucas’s feet than to take responsibility for the state of our relationship.
I was just as guilty. Because the minute I saw the evidence, I cut Lucas from my life, when a true friend, a friend who really loved someone, would have asked why or at least listened to what he had to say.
He’d begged me to let him explain, and I’d yelled at him that I never wanted to see him again.
Because, yes, he’d cheated on my sister.
But he’d also cheated on me—that’s how I felt in my heart.
“Lucas Thorn.” Molly spoke his name with reverence and a bit of a hussy-sounding sigh. “I hear congratulations are in order.”
Oh no.
“Thank you.” He reached blindly for my hand, but I held a wineglass in each, so I chugged one and set the other on the table, then secured my hand in his and squeezed.
Molly tilted her head at me. “Now, that’s strange.”
“What’s strange?” I asked in what I hoped sounded like a semibored voice, although inside I felt terror—terror that all our friends and family would discover the truth.
That he wasn’t who they thought he was.
And yet, he was.
I mean, he could be.
I was confusing myself.
He wasn’t a cheater anymore. I knew that in my heart. A man wouldn’t look at a woman the way he looked at me—and keep seven girls on the side.
Would he?
“I haven’t seen you in a little over a week.”
I did the math and deflated a bit. That meant he’d slept with her just a few days before I’d started working for him and started our little flirtation.