Page 29 of Protecting What's Mine

Linc’s oldest sister, Rebecca, found out about his day off and dumped his niece and nephew on him for a few hours because, as she put it, “If I have to listen to them scream at each other for one more second, I’m going to enter the witness relocation program.”

When he pointed out that the entrance requirements involved actually witnessing something that required relocation, she’d threatened to commit the crime herself.

So he had Bryson, thirteen, and Leah, ten, to entertain and terrorize him for the afternoon.

His cell phone rang on the picnic table. “Shit. Which one of you big mouths told Aunt Christa you were here?” Both hooligans raised their hands.

News of free babysitting traveled fast in the Reed family.

“What’s up, sis?”

“How’s my favorite brother?”

“Great. Busy. Heading in to the station,” he lied. Leah let out a blood-curdling scream. To silence her, he threw a water balloon that hit her in the shoulder.

“No, you’re not. You’re watching Becca’s kids, and I’m out front with mine.”

He feigned a groan. “Seriously? I’m injured. How am I supposed to break up the fights when they start to goHunger Gameson each other?”

His back door opened, and his sister Christa poked her head out. “Surprise!” Where Becca was tall and athletic, Christa was shorter, curvier, and abhorred anything that made her sweat. Both had the trademark Reed blond hair and dimpled chins.

Her two daughters followed her out onto the patio. Sunshine lifted her head and gave a mighty yawn before deigning to greet the new guests.

Christa made the appropriate fuss over her before the girls got their hugs in.

Bryson jogged over and initiated a complicated cousin handshake with 11-year-old Samantha. Kinley was lugging a backpack of books.

“If they’re too much for you, just turn a fire hose on them,” she suggested, giving him a loud kiss on the cheek. “How’s your shoulder? Where’s your sling?”

“You sound like Dreamy,” Linc complained.

“Who’s Dreamy?” she demanded.

“Uncle Linc, are you making us hot dogs, too?” Samantha asked, sniffing the air.

“That depends, Mantha. Got five bucks?”

Samantha had spent two full years railing against the “boyish” nickname Sam, adding “mantha” to the shortened moniker until she ended up as just Mantha.

She gave him a small smile. “No. But if you distract my mom, I can probably get in her purse like last time.” Linc and Samantha were united in their continuing mission to drive Christa crazy.

His sister rolled her eyes and tugged Samantha’s braid. “Nice try, champ. Now, Mom’s gotta go crack a nice lady’s back. I’ll be back in an hour, two tops, if I decide to swing by the grocery store to feed you monsters later tonight. Don’t burn down Uncle Linc’s house.”

His sister practically danced out of the backyard, ecstatic with newfound freedom. Linc didn’t hold it against her. She’d gone through a shitty divorce two years ago, and he was happy to step up his uncle game to give her breaks when she needed it.

He threw four more dogs on the grill. Kinley was small, but the kid could put away hot dogs like a drunk fraternity pledge. Sunshine sighed against his shin and gave himThe Look.

He threw another hot dog on the grill.

His home was designed for a bachelor’s lifestyle, which coincidentally also made it great for entertaining kids. In addition to the pool table and beer fridge, he had a freezer full of hot dogs, a server that hosted every kid’s movie known to man, and an endless supply of dart guns.

“Whatcha reading, Kins?” he asked. His niece was curled up in the hammock swing he’d hung just for her from the rafter of his overhang trellis.

Kinley hated being interrupted when she was reading and reminded him of that fact with a weighty sigh for a seven-year-old before flashing the cover at him.Common Psychological Conditions, Their Symptoms, and Diagnoses.

Kinley, an advanced reader, had carte blanche at the local library.

“Who wants to play with knives?” he called to the three kids who were competing in some complex Star Wars pirate game with sticks and sound effects.