Page 73 of Came the Closest
“Oh, that’s rich,” I retort indignantly, “considering it was you who stacked the deck last summer. Do I need to remind you that you drove away with my truck for an entire day?”
“Graham did,” Jordan objects. “Not me.”
“Yes, well.” I shrug and lean back in my chair. “You were an accomplice.”
“I wasn’t an accomplish—accomplice,” he corrects, cheeks reddening.
Indi laughs at the mispronunciation, and Gran’s lips wobble as she reaches over to pat Jordan’s shoulder consolingly. Graham was in the middle of taking a drink, and he thumps his chest while coughing, then he starts waving his hand in front of his mouth like that’ll help. I double over from laughing so hard.
“Graham, that doesn’t…” Jordan trails off, shaking his head. Through laughter-induced tears, I see the reluctant smile pull at his mouth. “Waving your hand in front of your mouth like that is not going to stop the coughing.”
“But clearly he thinks it will,” Indi wheezes, hand pressed to her stomach.
Graham releases one final cough and glares at all of us. “That wasn’t funny.”
“What, that you…” Indi lifts her head, takes one look at Graham, and starts laughing all over again. “Oh, my god. I wish you had those security cameras, Graham. I absolutely need an instant replay of the look on Detective Hotshot’s face when he mispronounced accomplice, and then the way Graham fanned himself like it could stop his cough.”
Gran leans forward to pat Jordan’s forearm. “It’s okay, darling. All of us have our moments.”
Indi groans. “Respectfully, Gran, please don’t use the word darling in my presence.”
“Doesn’t help that you’re blond,” I tell Jordan. To Indi, I say, “Why not?”
“Because Blondie over there decided to fall in love with Sydney Adair,” she says crisply. “And her brother, who shall not be named, has a penchant for calling me that.”
“He calls you That?” I tease, and I hold out a hand over the table. “Well, That. It’s nice to meet you.”
Indi scowls at me.
Gran’s pink sunglasses turn to Indi. “Have you considered that it might be because the boy likes you?”
Indi huffs a laugh. “Trust me. That’s not it.”
Based on the way Grayson Adair looked at my sister in Omaha, I’d beg to differ. It won’t do any good to argue with her, though, so I take a different approach.
“That could be your commitment,” I say nonchalantly. “The Adairs will be there tomorrow.” I pause to look at Graham for confirmation, and when he nods, I continue. “You can commit to being nice to Grayson until the clock strikes midnight.”
Indi’s cool blue eyes meet mine. “My first response is no. But I’ll begrudgingly agree to it, if I get to pick your commitment. Jordan’s committing to proposing to Sydney in the next three months, Graham’s getting married, and Gran is going to take cooking classes. You, however, haven’t said what your commitment is. So, I get to choose.”
Jordan lets out a low whistle.
Graham wisely ducks his chin and starts dealing the cards.
Gran’s sunglasses slide down her nose and she doesn’t push them back up.
Perhaps inadvisably, I hold Indi’s eyes. “Name it.”
Indi doesn’t hesitate before she says, “Commit to Cheyenne.”
The room goes eerily quiet. Even the breeze pirouetting through the open window seems to still. Four sets of eyes stare at me with open skepticism.
I hate it.
I used to want that—for them to believe I was incapable of anything even faintly resemblant of commitment. I felt smug when my brothers teased me about having a new girlfriend every other weekend, and I thrived on a lifestyle that had little to do with anyone else and everything to do with myself.
But right now, my chest hurts. That stinging that makes your throat poky and your eyes burn, the tangible ache when someone hurts your feelings. I feel empty, hollowed.
I don’t want to be that man anymore.