Page 33 of Coveted By the Bear

“So your reputation isn’t, then?” he asked. His eagle sharp eyes captured me and dared me to look away.

“I’d like to think it isn’t.”

Mr. McCreedy’s eyes narrowed as he studied my appearance. “That’s a lovely dress. I seem to remember giving one similar to my daughter for her birthday.”

“Dad,” Sadey cut in. “You told me to donate what I wasn’t going to wear anymore and that dress is too tight for me on top now.”

Mr. McCreedy looked back at me, and I tried to hide my embarrassment. “You have excellent taste, Mr. McCreedy. This dress is the prettiest thing I have ever worn.”

His look softened. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

Caleb mouthed the words I’m sorry before we made it into the large dining room, but I shook my head demurely. It wasn’t his fault, and besides, this was going way better than I thought it would. I had imagined Mr. McCreedy kicking me out before I made it up the front steps, so as far as I was concerned, we were in victory territory.

Brian was already sitting at the dining room table, and as soon as we sat down to eat, two older women in prim, dark suits brought out plates of food and set them in front us. I tried not to gawk at the whole fish that smelled delicious but looked back at me with an accusing eye. I pulled my attention to the dinnerware instead and played eeny-meeny-miney-mo as I tried to figure out which fork to use on my meal before it chose to flop off my plate.

“Emily called and said she wouldn’t be able to make it tonight,” Mr. McCreedy said with a calculating look at me as I waffled between forks. “She has two tests tomorrow.”

“She goes to college,” Sadey clarified as she pointed subtly to the correct dining utensil. “Her classes are really hard this semester, and she has to study a lot.”

“Speaking of studying,” Mr. McCreedy said, “are you still homeschooling? I assume that is what your uncle was doing with you before he passed away. Sadey said you haven’t attended public school in years.”

“Oh, yes, sir. I just got my GED. I was supposed to graduate a couple of years ago, but my uncle struggled to keep up with the homeschooling. I am actually in the process of looking for full-time work now,” I said, readying my fork to stab my meal.

Caleb cleared his throat from the seat beside me. “Dad, I actually wanted to speak to you about that.”

Mr. McCreedy looked at Caleb suspiciously and interrupted his train of thought. “I got a call from Mike Wells, over at the big drill, who had some interesting news for you.”

Caleb froze with his glass of ice tea against his lips. He spared a glance for me and then shook his head. “I don’t want to discuss business at the table.”

His father opened his mouth to say more, but seemed startled to a stop with the slamming of the front door.

“Family, I’m home,” came a man’s sing-songy voice.

I leaned over my plate to get a better look at who was tossing their jacket onto the polished floor like a slob when Mr. McCreedy answered him in a tone that lacked humor. “You’re late.”

“Not late. Making an entrance,” Caleb’s other brother Evan said as he entered the dining room. He stopped, his eyes growing wide before he gave a loud and humorless laugh. “What the hell is Crazy Mira doing here?”

“Evan—” Caleb warned him.

“She’s with you? Ha,” Evan said as he pulled out the chair directly across from me. “Now this I would have never seen coming in a million years. I’m eating dinner with Crazy Mira Fletcher,” he said, grinning.

“Act like I raised you with manners,” Mr. McCreedy scolded him, but Evan just kept staring at me.

I looked down, uncomfortable under his gaze. A plate clinked as one of the assistants placed it in front of Evan, but I could feel his focus remain regretfully on me.

“Damn, Caleb. Crazy Mira is kind of hot.”

“Don’t call me that.” I was surprised to hear the steel in my own voice.

“Call you what? Hot?”

“Don’t call me crazy.”

Evan glared at me with a cruel twist to his lips. “If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck.”

Caleb slammed his fist on the table. “She said don’t call her that. Do it again, and I’ll lay you out, Evan. Don’t fucking test me.”

Evan looked completely unaffected by the threat of violence. Here was a man who thrived on chaos. He whistled long and low. “Sorry, little brother. You’re so testy lately. I didn’t know you were into banging handicapped chicks now.”