Page 27 of Quiet Obsession
“The latter. She’s played chess since she was five.”
Her face hardens on cue, eyes drilling holes into theback of Hyde’s head. I don’t think she appreciates him sharing that detail, proving just how close she keeps her cards these days.
Dash joins us moments later, his hair disheveled from sleep, eyes hooded, muscular chest on display. He’s only wearing his boxers, and my jaw tightens as he stops in the doorway.
“You have no fucking shame,” I clip. “Go get dressed.”
He just shrugs. “I’m not naked.”
Smiling, Millie turns to look at him, then quickly whips forward again, eyes wide, cheeks red-hot.
“Put that thing away before you poke someone’s eye out,” Hyde chides,pulling a chair out on my left.
“It’smorning.” Dash strides past us to pour himself a cup of coffee. “You know how it goes.”
“Yeah, but we’re not alone and my sister doesn’t need your morning wood at the breakfast table. Get dressed.”
Dash chuckles. “She’s a big girl, Hyde. I bet my morning wood isn’t a novelty, right, Mini?”
She pinches her lips, cheeks heating even more but there’s a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. I can’t help but wonder whether that means the wood is or isn’t a novelty...
I can’t tell why she’s blushing.
She’s either embarrassed about her inexperience or that her experience is being pointed out in front of her older brother.
Fuck. I’m spending way too much timewondering.
Thankfully, before I start spiraling, there’s a knock on the door, immediately followed by the doorbell.
“That’ll be my dear aunt,” I say, exhaling a long breath. “Let the shit-show begin.”
Yanking the door open, I take one look at my dearest aunt and know she stopped at the funeral home on her way. Every wrinkle and crease of her fifty-eight-year-old face emanates deep distaste as she props her hands on her waist.
“No honors?!” Greta snaps, barging inside. “Apinecasket?! What the hell are you playing at, Elias?”
“Come in, why don’t you,” I mutter, shutting the door while she shimmies out of her trench coat.
She’s dressed to impress, her heels so tall she’ll need a hip replacement if she trips. I fucking hope she does. An elegant black dress hugs her plus-sized frame, gloves to match, hair coiffed and makeup applied by a professional. It doesn’t hide the wrinkles, but it does make her look a few years younger.
I swallow my scoff.
She’s awidow. Her latest husband’s been rotting in the ground barely a year, but it looks like Greta decided her brother’s funeral is as good a place as any to bag number four.
I bet she was hoping for a high-ranking general.
With an outraged scoff, she starts toward the kitchen, dropping her coat mid-stride and expecting me to catch it. I don’t. It falls to the floor, but I reluctantly hang it up as Greta falters in the kitchen doorway. I doubt she expected company this early.
“Morning.” Hyde rises from his seat, ever so polite as he extends his hand. “Hyde Ward. This is my sister, Millie, and this is Dash Ryker. We’re sorry for your loss.”
Dash Ryker and his morning wood.
“Thank you, Hyde, that’s very kind of you.”
“Coffee?” I ask, passing her in the doorway. “Or would you rather have something stronger?”
“It’s eight in the morning, Elias. Coffee will suffice.” She drops into the seat beside Millie, squeezing the bridge of her long, crooked nose. “Explain yourself. Why no honors for God’s sake? I talked to Jeremiah about funeral arrangements when we buried your mother. He wanted a full military burial.”
I set a cup of coffee in front of her, catching Dash sneaking out with a shit-eating grin.
