Page 100 of Unleashed

Maren takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as she watches them walk away. “I guess I better just get this over with.”

“It’s just like being at work. With more food.” I tip my head from side to side, considering. “Or like girls’ night with less alcohol.”

“The less alcohol is the part I’m worried about.” Maren doesn’t look enthused as she peers down the hall. “It already sounds chaotic in there.”

“Oh, it definitely is.” I loop an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “But you have my permission to yell at anyone you want to.” I grin. “Especially my brothers.”

I can’t imagine what Maren’s childhood was like. Don’t have the first clue of how big of a shift it would be for her to go from essentially being an only child with no relatives to speak of, to being sucked into a big, loud family with boundary issues.

“I guess that sounds like fun.” Maren sighs again before stepping out of my embrace. “Let’s go before your mom starts getting suspicious.”

“Sweetheart, you’re living in my house, working for my company, and I just bought your sister a petting zoo.” I hook an arm around her shoulders. “Suspicious doesn’t begin to describe what my mother is right now.”

Probably planning a wedding. I know my mom is champing at the bit to get us all paired up and settled down. It’s been relatively smooth sailing up to this point, so she likely has an inflated sense of optimism about how the rest will play out.

I’m not as optimistic.

Maren seems to be accepting of how much I work. Not a single time has she said anything about my commitment to McKinley Security Systems. And it may genuinely not bother her. Now. But that doesn’t mean it never will.

I’m also sure Maren wouldn’t even consider letting me drag her to the altar. And it wouldn’t be fair of me to try. Especially when I don’t know what’s going to happen next. When the next shoe will drop.

Who it will hit when it lands.

So my mother’s hopes and dreams of another wedding will have to put their target on someone else’s back.

“Oh my God.” Maren presses both hands to her head, eyes wide. “Do you think she thinks we’re fucking?”

“We are fucking.” Will be again as soon as I get her home and in my bed. “But I’m pretty sure my mother prefers not to think about her children screwing, so you’re probably safe there.”

“Good.” Maren seems relieved. “That would have made tonight extra uncomfortable.”

“I should probably warn you, though…” I can’t resist the urge to aggravate her. Just a little. “Everyone else totally thinks we’re fucking.” I give her a wink before dropping my arm and stepping away. “Come on. Let’s go eat.”

She stands in the same spot for a second before finally following, catching up to me in a few rushed steps. “I hate you.”

“You’re a liar.” We reach the doorway opening to the kitchen that serves as the center of my parents’ home. Resting my palm on Maren’s lower back, I urge her toward the breakfast room. “Go sit with your friends. Talk some shit about me. It’ll make you feel better.”

Maren shoots me a glare, but does as I suggest, going to take her place at the table where Mariah, Brooke, and Ruth are already seated. They pour her a glass of fruit-filled sangria from the pitcher my mother prepared as she plunks into a chair.

“She know you love her yet?” Titus steps in beside me, casually tipping back the bottle of beer in his hand. Like he didn’t just ask me the most loaded question ever.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” I turn back to watch the women as they laugh hysterically, likely at my expense. “We aren’t even close to being at that point.”

My older brother chuckles, shaking his head. “Man, you were at that point the day you saved her from the fire.”

At that point I’d known Maren for two months. We were already at each other’s throats. Anytime our paths crossed, we fought. Annoyed. Instigated.

And our paths crossed a lot.

“She deserves someone who can give her more time.” I can’t seem to make myself deny Titus’s claim, so I deflect. “So does Zara.”

“Bullshit.”

My attention snaps to my brother. “Fuck you.”

“Stop being a fucking coward.” Titus shakes his head, gaze drifting to his wife. “I did enough of that for all of us.”

“I’m not being a coward. I’m being realistic.” I grind my molars together before admitting, “I know what I am and what I’m not. I can’t make her my top priority, and that’s not fair.”