Page 20 of Waiting For A Girl Like You (Haven House #4)

T he gates opened.

“This is a me problem.” Rowan’s voice boomed down the hall, each of his heavy, measured footsteps pounding closer. “I’ll handle it.”

They made it to the parlor door just in time to see Rowan shoot past. Annabeth wasn’t far behind, but instead of following him out onto the porch, she veered sharply, squeezing past Liam to get to the parlor’s large front windows.

Evie and the girls hustled in behind Annabeth, with Abe right on their heels.

“What the hell is happening?” Jamison stumbled toward the window to watch with everyone else. “Rowan sounded upset.”

The SUV pulled up fast, parking right beside Simone’s bright red sports car.

“All he said was , you’ve got to be fucking kidding me , then took off when the buzzer hit,” Annabeth said, hiding partially behind a curtain as she tried to see what was happening out front. “Could anyone tell who was driving?”

Being the tallest, Samuel and Liam had a clear view. Harper and Theo attempted to climb up their legs until the men each grabbed one of them to sit on their shoulders.

“If I didn’t know better,” Samuel said, adjusting Harper into position. “I’d say it looks like—”

“Make a hole.” Their father stalked into the room with a mob of women trailing in his wake. “Is it who I think it is?”

Simone and Josie darted around him to get to the front of the window, practically pressing their noses to the glass.

“Who?” Izzy asked, bouncing on her toes. “Who does he think it is?”

Taylor’s slender shoulders shrugged as she tried to peek around Evie. “I have no idea.”

On the path, Rowan stood frozen, his fists clenched at his sides like he was preparing for a standoff.

The driver’s door of the SUV opened, and Jamison let out a low whistle when a woman stepped out wearing a flawlessly tailored cream suit and four inch heels.

Adjusting the jacket with practiced ease, the woman smoothed away imaginary wrinkles with the kind of detached elegance that only came from living far too many years in luxury.

“Hell,” her father growled. “It is her.”

“She’s purdy,” Theo said. “I likes hers shoes.”

“She’s not just pretty. She’s gorgeous,” Jamison agreed. The security feed hadn’t done the woman justice. She was older, close to her father’s age, but it didn’t matter. Even with the sunglasses covering most of her face, it was easy to tell she was beautiful. “Dad, who is she?”

“Hot damn, she does look good.” Josie nudged Simone with an elbow. “Bet me. How many surgeries do you think it’s taken to look like that this late in the game? I say seven.”

Simone clucked her tongue, but as the stunning woman started to walk up the front path, she pursed her lips like she was thinking. “Five,” she replied, placing a hand on the glass. “Yeah, I’m going to go with five. The second husband is a plastic surgeon, right?”

“Not when she married him, but I heard he became one later.” Josie reached blindly behind her to shove Samuel. “Go say hi to your aunt.”

“Yeah, that’s a hard no. And she’s not my aunt anymore,” Samuel said, moving out of the way so Izzy could get a better look. “She’s Rowan’s aunt. Let him deal with her.”

“Wait, wait.” Izzy scooched in next to Simone. “You and Rowan share an aunt? What am I missing here?”

“Jeez, Izzy, I figured you had this family tree memorized by now,” Liam teased as Theo removed his baseball cap to place on her head. “ Charlie Fairweather’s wife was Vivian McIntyre, and I’m guessing that’s her.”

Vivian McIntyre—the woman Charlie cheated on. Hearing that it might be her, Jamison rose on tiptoes.

Her father went pale. “Oh God. It’s Bianca and… is that a fucking parrot on her shoulder ?”

“Who’s Bianca?” Bernie asked, popping into the crowd. “Ooh! That’s not just a parrot. That’s a green macaw.”

A tiny woman close to Vivian’s age had hopped out of the SUV’s passenger side. Two more exited from the back, looking to be in their early twenties and equally appalled by the parrot sitting proudly on the smaller woman’s shoulder.

“Bianca is Rowan’s other aunt. He told me she raised parrots in Costa Rica,” Annabeth said, sounding legitimately afraid. “I thought he was joking.”

“That thing is not coming into my house, Benjamin,” Simone hissed when Vivian reached Rowan on the front path. “I mean it.”

Aunt and nephew didn’t speak, with Vivian simply patting Rowan’s cheek lovingly before moving on toward the house. He allowed her to pass, waiting for the others.

“Should I do something?” Taylor asked, wisely hovering near the back. “I can go greet them and say, you know, welcome to our home or whatever.”

Jamison shared a look with Liam Our home ? She told herself not to say anything, but good God, Taylor was pushing all her buttons today.

Vivian walked unhurried, allowing the security detail in the front yard to stare. She paid them no mind, completely comfortable with the attention.

“I’ll get the door.” Simone shoved her way through the crowd. “Everyone be nice. It can’t be easy for Vivian to be here.”

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Annabeth whispered with a hand on her stomach as everyone else hurried off to the hallway. “Why is Rowan’s family here?”

Jamison took her hand and pulled Annabeth out from behind the curtains. She couldn’t hide in the parlor, not with half the women in Rowan’s family about to walk through the front door. “It’s going to be okay,” she assured her. “They’re probably just here to check on Rowan. ”

Evie joined them, the room clearing out entirely.

“Yeah, but how would they even know something’s wrong?

All the public knows is that we had some skirmish with Zanmi, and it was played off like it was no big deal.

No, they must be here for Annabeth. Rowan’s probably been talking about the relationship, and if those women are anything like the women in our family…

” She waved a hand erratically. “They’re nosy as hell and want to meet you. ”

Leading Annabeth to the hall, Jamison shot Evie a glare. “We’ll stay right next to you.”

“No, you won’t. You’re going on the boat with Liam,” Annabeth whispered. “Going to check out some dock, my ass. You’re going to check out his dick.”

Jamison didn’t think there was any point in lying. “Well, it hasn’t been used in a while, and I need to make sure it’s in proper working order.”

Evie waddled behind them, her blonde ponytail swaying in time with her hips. “I tried to check out Samuel’s dick on a boat once. It didn’t work out.”

“You’re about to pop with his third kid, Evie,” Annabeth snickered once they entered the hall to stand with everyone else. “At some point, I think it worked out just fine.”

Simone swung open the front door just as Vivian climbed the final step, her heels clicking smartly across the porch.

“Vivian.”

“SiSi.” Vivian paused at the threshold like a vampire waiting for an invitation. “Am I intruding?”

“Not at all.” Simone swept her hand in a grand gesture, ushering Vivian inside. “Welcome to Haven House.”

Crossing into the foyer, Vivian removed her sunglasses with a practiced flourish. Up close, she was even more stunning, and Jamison caught Annabeth’s eye. If this was the aunt, what the hell was Rowan’s mother like?

Josie stepped forward with a cautious smile. “Viv.”

“Jos.” Vivian leaned in, and the two women dropped air kisses on each other’s cheeks. “Long time. Where’s your boy?”

“He’s the giant in the back.”

“Hey, Aunt Vivian.” Samuel gave a half-hearted wave, keeping one hand on Harper, who was still on his shoulders. “This is my oldest daughter, Harper. The one turning Liam into a jungle gym is my youngest, Theodora.” His arm slid protectively around Evie. “And you’ve met my wife, Evangeline. Once.”

“Yes, we did meet, but that was a lifetime ago,” Vivian said, her approving gaze lingering on Evie before pivoting back to Josie. “Your boy looks like him , but thank God, I see Miranda in there too.”

A new voice cut in, flat and utterly unimpressed with their guest. “Hello, Vivian.”

Jamison tensed at her father’s brusque greeting. He stood off in the shadows of the foyer, arms crossed and shoulder propped against the wall.

Ever so slowly, Vivian turned to face him. When their gazes connected, she raised her chin defiantly, an exhale of disappointment crossing her lips.

“Hello, Benjamin. Not dead yet, I see.”

“Afraid not.”

“Pity.”

Jamison’s eyes went round, but her father remained unfazed. “Why are you here, Vivian?” he asked.

“Why are you here, Benjamin? Shouldn’t you be in Texas?

Or holed up in one of your countless other offices?

” Vivian sounded amused, as if she were toying with him.

“Oh, wait. That’s right. Fairweather Holdings has closed their offices for a…

what was that bullshit lie you put out there? A fire and safety inspection?”

“Whatever the reasons are for closing my company’s offices are my reasons,” he replied smoothly. “And has nothing to do with the McIntyres.”

“It does when you’re holding one hostage.”

“No one is holding Rowan hostage.”

Vivian smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and Jamison felt the pressure shift in the room. Beside her, Annabeth sensed it too and had gone rigid, eyes locked on the floor. Instinctively, Jamison eased them both back, not wanting to be caught in this woman’s crosshairs.

But shiny, beautiful things were Jamison’s downfall, and the broach securing the silk scarf draped across Vivian’s shoulder caught the light in just the right way and had her speaking without her brain first alerting her that might not be the best idea. “That’s a lovely ruby broach. ”

Yep. A mistake. A total and utter mistake. Vivian’s attention zeroed in like a sniper sighting her next shot, and Jamison braced for snarky comments. She’d gone up against worse, but this woman looked like she knew how to make every hit count.

“I’ve seen your picture many times, Ms. Fairweather, but I have to say, it doesn’t do you justice. You’re unique in your beauty, just like your mother,” Vivian said, giving Jamison a thorough inspection. “However, like your brother, you’ve got that dark edge. A true Fairweather down to the bone.”

Jamison had no idea if the observation was meant to be a compliment. “Thank you?”

And then the McIntyre chaos arrived.

The second older woman came marching in, the squawking parrot on her shoulder flapping its wings. She wore an oversized buttoned-up Hawaiian print shirt and hot pink leggings. Her long gray hair hung past her shoulders in braided pigtails with streaks of purple at their tips.

“Oh my God,” Simone hissed when the parrot screamed. “We have cats.”

This was it. Jamison was so sure this would be the moment Simone lost her ever-loving shit. It was a long time coming, and she was thankful that she wasn’t to blame.

“Monty eats cats,” the woman replied cheerfully to Simone before heading straight toward the corner. “Hey, mother fucker.”

Jamison’s soul briefly left her body. She was fairly certain no one in recorded history had ever called Benjamin Fairweather a motherfucker to his face. Her dad was tough, never taking crap from anyone.

And yet, here he stood—utterly unmoved. “That joke is getting old, Bianca.”

“Not to me.” The bird’s screeching reached a deafening level, and Bianca cooed at the thing. “Now, where is she?”

“Where’s who?” Josie asked warily.

“No. No, no, and no.” Rowan bounded through the front door with the two younger women right behind him. “This is not okay.”

Seeing the other new arrivals up close, Jamison could easily tell they were Vivian’s daughters. The two women shared the same delicate bone structure along with the same high cheekbones, full lips, and flawless skin as their mother .

But that’s where the similarities ended. They were much more casual than their mother, decked out in leggings and college sweatshirts. Both had dark chestnut hair and dark eyes to match, a total contrast to Vivian.

“What’s not okay is you avoiding our calls for two weeks,” Vivian shot back. “Your mother is worried sick, and you’re lucky I didn’t bring your sister.”

Rowan’s face went red—deep red, with some purple mixed in. A good foot taller than his aunts, he loomed over the women but still managed to look like a teenager caught sneaking in after curfew.

“I am a grown man.”

“Then act like it. Call your mother. Poor Margie is going out of her mind,” Bianca scolded, with her hands on her hips. “No one knows what’s happening with you. Not even Killian, and we interrogated him for three hours.”

“Poor Kill,” one of the younger women said. “I think Aunt B made him cry.”

“You can understand, can’t you, ladies?” Vivian asked, addressing the mothers in the room. “If one of your children went missing and couldn’t be bothered to text, wouldn’t you send an army to track them down?”

“Yous been bad, Row-lo,” Theo whispered, positively aghast. “Yous might gets a spank.”

“No one is getting spanked, Theo.” Rowan spun around to face Simone, who was still holding the front door open like she might shove someone back through it. “I am so terribly sorry for this.”

“Call your mother next time.” Simone pushed the door shut with a little more force than necessary. “Now. Can I interest anyone in some coffee?”