Page 25 of Wish For Me

“Why is it different?” Cade asks. “Your older sister and brother both drank on occasion when they were your age. Jesus, River probably drank more than all the cousins put together. It’s going to be fine.”

“I just wish someone told me they were going to be here,” she moans.

“What are you even talking about? We knew the parents were going to be here,” Cade says. “My parents have been over there hogging all the spiced rum punch and making out since we got here.” He gives a shudder of revulsion before turning back to her. “Your mom and dad just stayed inside to help the kids get settled so the sitter wouldn’t be overwhelmed. They were always going to be coming back out.”

“Well,” she says with as much dignity as she can manage. “I may have forgotten those details when I started to get tipsy.”

Girl is far past tipsy. Which she proves a moment later when Aunt Daisy turns slightly in our direction. Violet squeals and tries to jump behind me, managing to knock us both in the snow with her efforts.

“Girl.” Cade shakes his head as he looks down at us. “If you want to try to hide the drunkenness from your mother, I suggest you start by staying on your feet.”

“Will you just help me up?” I grumble, trying to disentangle myself from Violet’s clumsy, grasping hands.

“What’s going on?” Ash asks, appearing behind Cade’s shoulder. “Are we wrestling?”

“We’re not wrestling. Your twin is trashed and freaking the hell out about it.”

He sighs. “Really, Vi?”

“Mom is here!” she half-shouts, as if that should excuse her behavior.

“I know. So does everyone else on this mountain because you’re screaming so loud about her not seeing you drunk.”

Violet plops back into the snow, looking horrified. “Did Mommy hear me?”

He rolls his eyes and reaches down to grasp his twin sister by the wrists, pulling her easily to her feet. “You’re being ridiculous. Mom will not care that you had a few drinks at your cousin’s bachelorette party. Shit, Dad will probably be impressed.”

I’m not quite sure if I would go that far. Uncle Daltrey might be proud of his own rock star glory days but he’s always treated his youngest daughter a little bit like a princess. I think it’s because he hates the idea of any of his kids growing up and leaving him, so the longer he can pretend Vi is still his baby he’s going to cling to the illusion. And Violet makes that easy—girl has a wanting-to-please-her-parents complex a mile wide. Just about every rebellious act our group has ever attempted required hours of convincing Vi to let go and be cool.

But I don’t say any of that, because I’m too pre-occupied with the cold wet snow currently sinking into my new jeans. “Would someone like to help me up? Since I’m the one she dragged down here?”

“I’ll give you a hand.”

My blood goes as cold as the snow under my ass. I know that voice.

“What are you doing here?” Violet asks in a sneer so disapproving that she only slurs a little.

“That’s not very welcoming, Vi.”

I turn my head and sure enough, it’s him. Peter Dumont. Towering over me, that stupid little smirk on his face. It’s bigger than usual, actually. Probably because I’m still sitting ass-deep in snow and the bastard likes nothing better than to see me struggle.

Before I can say a word, he reaches down and grips me under the arms and pulls me back to my feet. My mouth drops open at the ease with which he just did that, but I push the thought from my mind. I will not be impressed by anything this asshole does. And I certainly won’t be turned on by his apparent ability to lift me without any effort.

“Seriously,” Cade says, glaring at my nemesis. “What are you doing here?”

“Apparently, there was some contracts that your dad and uncles urgently needed, and my dad lives to serve the Ransomes. So I got dragged along to...” He looks around at the surrounding hills and forests, distaste clear on his face. “Wherever the hell this is.”

“Tennessee,” Violet offers helpfully, then hiccups.

“Forget about the fact that I’m supposed to be at my grandparents for the holiday with the rest of my family,” Peter continues. “I’d much rather be freezing my ass off just so dear old dad could get a few papers signed.”

His words are as clipped and emotionless as they usually are, but everything else about him screams bitterness—the set of his jaw, the flash in his eyes. Peter is pissed.

“You’ll still have time to get there before Christmas, right?” I ask.

He nods once. “For a few days. Then we’ll be in Napa for the wedding.” He gives me a tight smirk. “So you can look forward to the pleasure of my company once again.”

My normal reaction would be to mime gagging—because I’m super mature like that—but for some reason I can’t bring myself to do it. Maybe it’s that flash of emotion around his eyes, the one that tells me he isn’t at all happy about being dragged around for his father’s work over his holiday break. I know enough about his internship to know he only has a few weeks at home at best before he has to go back to France. I also know how close he is to his grandparents.