Page 18 of Control Freak

I’d be at school by now if my life hadn’t derailed. Maybe taping up Sierra’s map, with her little sketch of a corncob in the state of Nebraska. When I’d seen her artwork, I’d never imagined I’d be here two days later.

Holden drove down a rutted path, bypassing the parking lot in front of an auto garage and arcing to the right, eventually parking on a patch of dead grass in front of a farmhouse.

It was bright white with slate-gray trim, but the sagging porch roof gave away its age.

“I didn’t even think to ask you about where you lived,” I said.

“You had a lot of other things on your mind.” He paused. “I hope it’s okay.”

I scoffed. “You saw my apartment building. It was nothing special.”

“It was nice. Modern. This place is not new. The water takes ten solid minutes to heat up. The hall toilet always runs unless you jiggle the handle. And the third stair from the bottom creaks every time I step on it.”

I smiled. “It sounds great.”

He laughed.

“Seriously,” I said. “It has character that my bland apartment building will never possess.”

“Character,” Holden mused. “Yeah, I like that. I’ll use that phrase the next time one of my brothers bitches about the garbage disposal acting up.”

He opened his door and got out. I did the same, eager to stretch my legs after the long ride. I arched my back, taking in the view, not even bothered by the cold—which wasn’t much better here—as tension eased in my cramped muscles.

Holden started unloading bags. I took a step toward him, then froze when a whole trail of men emerged from his house.

A dark-haired, tatted-up guy next to a slim, well-groomed blond. A younger guy with messy brown hair. A man withblond waves pulled into a messy ponytail, and an honest-to-god sheriff, complete with uniform.

These must be the brothers Holden lived with. He’d said they were okay with a houseguest, but was there even space for me?

Holden shouldered two duffel bags, then handed me a third one as his brothers came closer.

“Shiloh, this is my family.” He pointed to each man in turn. “Gray, Bailey, Axel. They’re my foster brothers. And Emory and Dalton are the boyfriends.”

I smiled, hiding behind my cam persona. “Well, hello. Aren’t you all just tasty enough to eat?”

Bailey’s pale blue eyes widened. “Uh…”

The sheriff—Dalton—chuckled quietly. Gray shook his head, lips quirking. Axel straight-up cackled.

“Oh, hell, Holden. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What?” Holden said, sounding startled.

“I just needed a place to hi—er, stay, for a couple of days,” I said. “Holden was kind enough to invite me.”

“I just bet he was,” Gray mused. “Well, nice to meet you, Shiloh.”

“Really nice to meet you,” Emory enthused, holding open his arms. “Can I hug you?”

I was caught off guard, but damn, I’d needed a hug for days.

“Yeah.” I stepped forward, eyes slipping closed as I sagged into him. “Thank you.”

When I opened my eyes, the brothers were exchanging concerned looks with Holden. I was sure they had things to say about their sudden houseguest.

Best to let them do it in private.

“I think I should freshen up and let you all talk,” I said, casting a glance toward Holden.