Page 213 of Where We Stay

Pen grabs my hand the second I reach her and starts pulling me outside. “Come on, Daddy.”

I let her drag me toward the truck because apparently, between Blair and my six-year-old, I don’t run my own life anymore.

Honestly? I wouldn’t change a fucking thing.

* * *

We arrive at my parents’ house just before four-thirty, and the smell of Mom’s roast lamb hits me the second Aspen opens the front door.

At this point, Mom has a famous version of every meal known to man. Famous chicken pot pie. Famous roast lamb. Famous Christmas pudding.

I’m starting to think she gives herself these titles.

“Family,” I announce as Aspen pulls me into the living room.

Dad, and Logan are spread across the couches watching the Bruins game, while Rory is curled up in an armchair staring at her phone instead of the television.

Dad raises his whiskey toward me. “Domestic Dean.”

I turn my glare on Logan. “You got this fucker saying it too?”

“Santa, Daddy!” Aspen scolds, tugging on my hand.

I grimace. “Sorry, Penny.”

Dad laughs into his glass while Mom walks in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her eyes immediately move past us toward the foyer.

“Blair didn’t come with you?” she asks.

“She needed to grab some things from home,” I explain. “She’s meeting us here at five.”

I check my phone again. Still nothing, but she has half an hour before she’s even expected. There’s no reason for me to turn into an overbearing caveman because my girlfriend has been out of my sight for a few hours.

No reason at all.

“Heard you got her drunk, Aurora,” I say, turning my attention to my sister.

Rory finally looks up from her phone. “That was days ago, big brother. It also probably won’t be the last time.”

She checks the screen again before releasing an irritated sigh.

I narrow my eyes at her. “Expecting a message from someone?”

“No,” Rory answers far too quickly. She shoves her phone into her pocket and stands. “Mind your business.”

She storms toward the kitchen, and I point after her. “What’s up her ass?”

Logan raises his brows. “I could take a guess who.”

“Hm.” I look toward the doorway Rory disappeared through. “Me too, actually.”

Before I can torment Rory a little more, my phone rings in my hand.

Jerry.

I answer immediately, expecting him to ask whether I caught the game or give me shit for something Blair has told him.

“Hey, Jerry.”