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I hate to disappoint her, but she’s wrong. No one sticks around forever. But I’ll enjoy Paisley’s company while she’s here.
I just need to keep my heart encased in steel to stop myself from falling in love and getting my heart broken. Because it would be all too easy to fall in love with Paisley. Especially now that we’re beyond the hate.
Chapter 22
“Now I understand why Cinderella wanted a man to save her from her evil stepsisters.” ~ Paisley
Paisley
“Coming,” I shout as I rush to the door. I fling it open. “You’re…” The smile drops from my face when I realize my visitor isn’t Eli.
“I’m what?” Darcy sasses.
I debate telling her the truth. She’s not the person I expected or want to see. But she’s not alone. Mom is at the back of her entourage and it pains my mother how we don’t get along.
“Where are Luna and Emma?” I ask.
My adorable nieces are the only reason I’m not estranged from Darcy. I have no interest in interacting with my stepsister or her husband. But their two girls? I can’t cut them out of my life.
Darcy huffs. “They’re observing Sammy. The seal is sitting in your neighbor’s yard being a pest.”
I smile. My nieces are as nerdy as I was at their age. Darcy has tried to get them interested in beauty pageants but they refuse to get involved. I love those girls.
“Are you going to ask us in?” Regan’s question is more a demand than question.
“I wasn’t expecting you. I’m going out in a little while.”
Darcy pushes her way past me. “We don’t need much of your time.”
Regan follows Darcy while Mom brings up the rear.
“Hello, dear,” she says and kisses my cheek.
“What’s going on? Why are you here?” I ask her but she shrugs.
Darcy and Regan settle on the sofa in my living room as if they belong there.
“Aren’t you going to offer us a drink?” Regan asks.
“I’ll have a martini,” Darcy orders.
If she thinks I’m going to act as her personal bartender, she will be disappointed.
“If you want a martini, there are plenty of bars in Smuggler’s Rest,” I say.
She sighs. “A wine will do.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glare down at her and Regan. “What are you doing here?”
“Geez. There’s no reason to be hostile. You’re our sister. Why wouldn’t we be here?” Darcy can feign confusion all she wants. I know the truth. Her and Regan never treated me as a sister.
“Let me rephrase. What do you want?”
“I want a martini,” Darcy mutters. “But apparently you don’t know how to make one.”
“A classic martini is a simple recipe consisting of gin and vermouth. Vodka is also an option. It’s made by—”
Darcy throws her hand up. “Stop! I was only joking.”