Baiting Him (How to Catch an Alpha #2)(48)

“Gus doesn’t get uncomfortable. He doesn’t even understand the effect he has on people, especially women,” Chrissie says, and Sam chuckles.

“This is why I live hundreds of miles away,” Chris tells me, and then he looks at his sister. “Can we get our bags and go inside?”

“Of course.” She laughs, and Chris rolls his eyes before he goes to grab his bag, and Sam does the same. I reach out for Chrissie’s hand and head into the building and to the elevator.

“How long before we’re meeting Mom for dinner?” Chris asks when we get upstairs to Chrissie’s place, and she pulls her cell phone out of her pocket to look at it.

“Just about three hours,” she says while leading both men pulling their suitcases toward her bedroom, where they’ll be staying while they’re here in town. Before Dorothy decided to go away for New Year’s, the plan was for them to stay with her. But with her leaving, I thought it would be better if they were close to Chrissie, so I convinced her to stay with me and give them her place. At first she wasn’t sure, not with my mom staying with me. But after some convincing and explaining, I got her to agree, even if she’s not a hundred percent on board.

Hopefully, she’ll feel more comfortable after she meets my mom tomorrow, and if she’s not, she’ll still be okay. My mom won’t be around much. Even with only coming to see me once a year for the last five years that I’ve lived here, she’s met people and made friends she likes to visit with while she’s in town. Plus, she is the kind of person who is always busy, always on the go. And Chrissie also has her brother and Sam here to spend time with.

“Anyone want a beer?” I call out and get two yeses and one “Wine, please” as I head for the kitchen and unhook LeFou from his leash. The moment he’s free, he takes off to find a place to hang out, and I go to the fridge. I pour a glass of wine for Chrissie first, then grab three beers and pop the tops off. I take a seat on the couch in the living room, and a few minutes later, my woman comes out to join me and falls onto the couch at my side. I lean forward to grab her glass of wine and hand it to her, then ask, “You happy?”

“Yes.” She puts the glass to her lips and takes a sip before she places her feet up on the couch and leans into me. I lift my arm, making room for her, and she curls against my side with a happy sigh as her brother and Sam come into the living room, both grabbing their beers from the coffee table.

“Have you talked to Dad?” Chris asks as he and Sam take a seat in the double chair that’s catty-corner to the couch, and Chrissie’s weight against me goes completely still.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” her brother says. “I thought he might have reached out to you to tell you Merry Christmas.”

“He hasn’t,” she says. “Did he reach out to you?”

At her question, Chris shakes his head.

“Sweetheart,” I prompt, and she looks up at me. “Tell them,” I order, and she frowns, then lets out a frustrated sigh when she sees I’m not going to give in.

“What happened? Is Mom okay?” Chris asks, looking between us and sounding concerned.

“Mom’s fine.” She takes a sip of wine. “Actually, I think she’s better than she’s ever been.”

“Dad?” Chris asks with his jaw ticking.

“Yes.” She ducks her head. “I mean, I’m sure he’s fine too. It’s just that I ran into him a little while back.”

“You did?” He frowns, studying her averted face. “You never told me you saw him.”

“I know.” She sighs.

“Let me guess. You weren’t going to tell me, because you didn’t want me upset, just like you didn’t want us to tell Mom about Dad not talking to us for the same reason.”

“You can’t be mad that I don’t want the people I love upset.”

“No, but I can be pissed at you for keeping secrets from me. Now tell me what happened.”

“He was with his wife at the grocery store,” she says, taking a sip of wine.

“And?” he asks, sounding frustrated.

With a heavy sigh, she tells him what went down, and when she’s done, he doesn’t look any happier than he did. In fact, he looks pissed, and so does Sam.

“So he didn’t call you after that bullshit?” Sam grates out after a moment, and Chrissie looks to him, shaking her head.

“I just cannot believe him,” Chris rumbles, standing up, obviously too pissed off to sit any longer. “First, he just . . . fuck, you know what he did.” He glances at his sister. “Then, after he runs into you with his new wife in the grocery store and you freak out, he doesn’t even have the decency to call you and make sure you’re okay?”

“I haven’t called him either,” Chrissie whispers, and Chris’s eyes move to her in a flash and narrow.

“He’s your dad, our fucking dad. I don’t give a fuck what is going on in his head. He should have fucking called you. He should have phoned you to check in, even if it was just to make sure you got home okay. Jesus,” he clips, running his fingers through his hair. He tips his head back toward the ceiling. “I don’t even know him, and now I wonder if I ever did.”

“Chris,” Sam calls out, and Chris’s head lowers. His eyes go to Sam’s. Neither of them says a word, but I know they’re still communicating something between each other, and I have to admit it’s beautiful to watch that kind of deep understanding.