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“Gilli, you’re breaking my heart. You know I care.” Aiden pats his lap. “I’ve got a seat warmed up for you right here.”

The woman rolls her eyes. “Theseatis already occupied with the fries I made, but thanks. You’re a potato hog.”

“Gilli, this is Doctor Tase Walton. Vet extraordinaire. Tase, this is my stepsister Gillian Kerrigan.” Soren spits out the words like he’s sucking snake venom out of a bite.

Stepsister, huh? Son of a bitch.

Soren hasn’t spoken about his stepsisters, or anyone in his family, in the years I’ve known him. He’s only made a few asides that weren’t worth remembering back in college, but now she’s at the cabin?

Why?

Which one of the sisters is this? My memory is fuzzy but she looks like the right age to be the youngest. Then again, I’ve never been the best judge of these things.

I can’t look away.

She’s wearing a billowing hippie skirt that does nothing to hide the swell of her ass. Her shirt is cropped high and shows off a tantalizing swatch of midriff, a strange choice considering the chill in the air. I supposethe oversize cardigan hanging down to her hips helps a little.

“Nice to meet you, Doc.” Gillian wraps her arms around herself and shifts from foot to foot.

“You want a beer, Gilli?” Aiden offers.

“Ah, sure, I’ll take a beer.”

So what’s going on? They don’t want her here; it’s implied in the stiff set of Soren’s shoulders. Aiden is a little more amenable.

Or maybe he just wants to fuck her.

An image of Gillian taking Aiden up on his offer and spreading herself over his lap fills my head. I let out a breath and drop back down in the chair.

All at once the night goes silent like someone has flipped a switch. Even the crickets aren’t up to their usual chirping chorus and those suckers are relentless.

Aiden hands over a bottle and Gillian hesitantly grabs it and twists off the top. I swallow hard, watching her take her first sip.

Her haunted look from earlier today stuck with me for the rest of the afternoon, after I’d caught her peering through the window. It was the expression of a person trying desperately to pull the pieces of herself back together. A person who is hiding something.

I can tell. I know all about secrets.

From the controlled and even way she breathes, she’s probably trying not to let Soren’s attitude bother her. She should be used to it, shouldn’t she?

“Do you need any help with the grill?” she asks suddenly.

“Absolutely fucking not.”

She glances up sharply at Soren’s tone and a few strands of hair fall around her face.

Damn it. She’s young, but she’s pretty, in an interesting way. Her eyes are almond-shaped and large without any makeup to help accentuate the shape.

Her tawny skin, her dark hair—she couldn’t be further from Soren’s Nordic aesthetic.

Not blood related and nowhere near the family they might have been as a result of the marriage. Is it a shame?

I can’t tell.

I drag my fingers across my scalp. “You did the grocery shopping and these ingrates still decided to catch trout for dinner?” I ask.

Gillian glances over at me before shifting to stand at the side of my chair. Her eyes immediately lock with mine and something in my chest tightens.

“How’d you know I went grocery shopping?”