Page 34 of When You Blush

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Her hair is down and wavy, and she put some makeup on. Not too much, just enough to make those gray eyes look like … magic.

She takes in my jeans and green button-down. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Areyou hungry?”

“No. I’mhangry.I could eat literal sawdust, and it would be amazing.”

I watch as she locks her door, then I take her hand and bring it up to my lips. “No sawdust tonight. How do you feel about burgers?”

“I have a fondness for burgers,” she replies. “I’m down for that.”

I lead her to my car and open the door for her, and once she’s settled in the seat, I close the door and circle the hood, giving the house one more curious glance.

“That’s a nice house,” I say as I put the car in gear and pull away.

She glances back at it. “Yeah, it is. The inside is nice, too. But it’s kind of ridiculous.”

I blink at her in surprise. “You think your house is ridiculous?”

“Oh, it’s notmine.” She laughs at that, as if just the thought is preposterous. “It’s Xander’s. He’s another brother. Xander’s never home because he’s off being a fancy hockey player, so when I moved back, he basically insisted I housesit for him.”

That’s right, Xander Hendrix is the starting center for the Denver Flurry.

“Ah, I see.” I nod and pull onto the highway just as Harper’s phone rings. She checks the screen, and I see her frown out of the corner of my eye.

“Sorry,” she says. “I have to take this.”

“By all means.”

She holds the phone up to her ear. “Hey, what’s up? Are you okay?”

She listens for a second, then shakes her head in agitation.

“No. Absolutely not. You listen to me. You can’t eat that. It’ll send your sugar levels into the stratosphere, Greg. I don’t care what Tucker said. He’s not a medical professional, and if you eat that, I will come over there, and well, I’ll do something. I’ll figure that out later. Seriously, please don’t do that. You’ll feel like shit.”

I scowl and glance her way. She has literal tears in her eyes.

What’s going on?

“Promise me,” she says. “Okay, I’m trusting you. I’ll bake you something delicious tomorrow and bring it over. It’s my day off. No, I wanted to bake anyway. Okay. You stress me out, Greg. For the love of God and all the saints. Yeah, yeah, love, blah, blah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hangs up, blows out a breath, and shakes her head.

“Family is hard,” she finally says, and I immediately reach for her hand.

“What’s going on, sugar?”

She links her fingers through mine.

“Greg Hendrix raised me. My parents were shit. It’s a long story. Anyway, Greg was diagnosed with type two diabetes a couple of months ago, and he’s so not good at regulating it. It’s the biggest reason I moved home. If you thinkIhave a sweet tooth? He invented the word. And he’s in good shape. The man has been a rancher his whole life, and he’s still active despite Tucker doing mostof the work now. Anyway, he’s stubborn, he doesn’t listen, and I seem to be the only one who can get through to him. Mostly, I use the guilt trip tactic.”

“I take it that it’s worked before?”

“Like a charm. I’ll bake him something delicious tomorrow to help with the sweet tooth. If he puts himself in a goddamn diabetic coma tonight, he won’t have to worry about diabetes. I’ll kill him myself.”

I smile over at her. “He won’t. I would have been afraid of you just now, too.”