Page 9

Callum nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Better you than me.” I lift one shoulder, ignoring the ache there.

“If it makes you feel any better, Tate’s not just yours.”

Tate.

TherapistTate.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Dad wants him to fix everyone apparently, starting with you, Dempsey, Spencer, and Aubrey.” Callum shakes his head. “He’s paying this guyreallywell.”

Dad’s paying some stranger to learn every goddamn secret of this family? Is he going senile? Seriously, what the fuck.

“I’ll get rid of him,” I grunt.

Callum’s brows shoot up. “Murder’s not really your style.”

“Not murder, dumbass. I’ll scare him off. We don’t need this shit, especially not after what went down this summer with Neena and that crazy fucker she was sleeping with.”

“Willa likes him,” Callum says, voice neutral, like another man staying in his home isn’t a threat.

Interesting.

Callum perceives every man with a working dick between his thighs as someone attempting to steal hischild bride—Spencer’s phrase, not mine. What makes Tate immune to Callum’s wrath? I’d gotten a good look at the guy. He was by no means ugly, not to mention, he looked closer to Willa’s age than Callum is.

“I don’t have to kill him because you will,” I grunt, pinning my brother with a probing stare. “The first time he checks out her ass.”

Callum’s grin is wide and wolfish. “He’ll more likely check out mine.”

With those confusing as fuck words, Callum squeezes my shoulder and then strides past me. The sound of voices grows louder when he opens the door and leaves it open for me. Pivoting on my heels, I follow after him, eager to get this shitshow on the road. The sooner dinner is over, the sooner I can go back to tucking in with a slice of Violet’s heavenly pecan pie and avoiding my family until next Sunday.

Dad’s dining room is filled with the usual chaos my family brings, though this time, we’re hosting a new person. Therapist Tate. Rather than approach the table where several family members sit, I assess Tate from afar.

Yesterday, he seemed so small.

Lost and afraid.

Today, his fear is erased and his smile is an easy one. His dark brown hair flops to one side and his face is clean-shaven. Sitting next to Willa as she grins, gesticulating toward her stomach, he listens with rapt attention. He doesn’t look my way or even flinch at my arrival, too wrapped up in whatever she’s saying to him.

Therapist Tate doesn’t look like a therapist at all.

He looks like a little boy playing grown-up games.

What was Dad thinking, not just in hiring a family therapist, but also finding the greenest one he could?

It’s not like Dad to half-ass anything or cheap out, especially when his family is involved. So, why this guy? Why him of all the therapists in this town? I’m itching to get back to my office, so I can do a full investigation on this guy. Everyone has secrets and I always find them.

I’m an immovable statue as I take in this enemy, infiltrating our family’s most sacred time. Just because I hate attending doesn’t change the fact that it’s an important time for everyone to connect. Clearly, I keep showing up for them. And while Willa is a new addition to our group, she feels like family.

Therapist Tate?

A splinter piercing our thick exterior, small but no less impactful. His presence will cause infection, spreading and spreading until we’re all ruined.

Callum catches my gaze as he takes his seat on the other side of Willa, casually draping an arm over the back of her chair. Amusement causes his lips to curl into a lopsided grin. Asshole. He may not see Tate as a threat, but I do and I’ll do whatever I can to protect our family. I always do.

Ignoring his taunting smile, I drop into the chair directly across from Tate. I can sense Dad’s penetrating glare, most likely attempting to guilt me for sending Tate away, but I ignore that too. I study Tate intently, waiting for him to notice.