Page 29 of Your Last First Kiss

Dillon takes a step forward. His giant frame dwarfs me in my tiny kitchen. God! Does anyone else hear how shallow my breathing is?

“How much snow are we talking?”

I probably shouldn’t be staring at his lips. Lips that are so full they’d make any woman jealous. And let’s not discuss the first hints of scruff covering his jaw. Or the way his messy brown hair makes me want to run my fingers through it and pull him to me.

It’s cruel and unusual punishment to constantly be reminded that something you want so desperately is the same thing you can never have.

“Two feet,” Landon says quietly, jolting me back into reality. He’s spoken more in the last five minutes than he has all day, and I narrow my eyes on him.

“Two feet today. There’s another storm following right behind this one, though. It’s going to take a while to clear it out, and your car doesn’t even have snow tires on it,” Kai calls from the upstairs hallway.

I count to ten before I yell at my stubborn firstborn.

Dillon turns toward the stairs, and I follow him into the hallway. “They’re all-season tires.”

“All-season is for North Carolina. You’re in New England. You need snow tires,” Kai shouts down the stairs.

“Kai,” I warn. He’s not wrong, but his tone is dangerously close to being disrespectful.

“Noted,” Dillon says kindly. I appreciate that he didn’t snap at my kid.

“I should have said something at Mr. Blaine’s, but I—I wasn’t thinking,” Kai says quietly. If it weren’t completely silent, we would have missed it.

When I peek up at the staircase, I find his head poking out over the banister he’s resting his chin on. He appears so much younger like this. God. Why can’t he always look like a carefree child and not like he’s carrying the weight of adult decisions he’s not fully equipped to handle yet?

It’s a stupid question. I know why. Eddy Damon.

There’s something in Kai’s shaky tone that has my mom-senses spiraling. But before I can question him, a car door slams outside, followed by a herd of elephants stampeding up my front steps.

“Gage is home,” I say. I’m not sure where to look and end up volleying between Dillon standing next to me and Kai on the stairs.

What the hell happened today?

Dillon must see something in my expression because he steps closer and lowers his voice. “He’s okay, but it was a rough day for him.”

A lump cements itself in my throat as my eight-year-old barrels through the front door like a bull in a china shop. The kid is wholly incapable of doing anything at half-speed.

A gust of frozen air sweeps into the house as Gage and my cousin’s daughter, Izzy, tumble inside. Miller follows a moment later with his arms full of supplies. The tension in the air rises when Dillon makes eye contact with him.

Miller, being Miller, merely smiles in the easy way he has with those amber eyes that are always ready to stir stuff up. On his way by, he waggles his eyebrows at my outfit with a wild grin.

“I salted your steps, but you’ll need to do it again in a few hours,” he says, placing the bags on the small island that’s already overflowing with dinner ingredients. I was hoping to have dinner done in case we lose power, but I can’t think with Dillon here, let alone cook meals.

I follow Miller back into the kitchen with Dillon’s heat at my back.

We’re not two steps into the kitchen when Miller turns to Dillon with a Cheshire-like smile and holds out his hand. “I’m Miller. It’s nice to meet you.”

CHAPTER9

PENNY

Dillon grips Miller’s proffered hand and shakes. “Dillon Henry,” he grunts.

My house is too small on a good day. With both Miller and Dillon standing like peacocks, I swear the walls are closing in. They’re both wearing smiles, but each blink that passes causes anxiety to bounce in my stomach like it’s flying over speed bumps.

Miller turns to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders, and we both watch Dillon’s reaction like a dark storm cloud rolling in. It’s instantaneous, and I elbow Miller in the side.

Now he’s just being a jerk.