Beard Necessities (Winston Brothers, #7)(31)

Chapter Six





Claire





“You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.”

Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon





“Hey, Claire!” Jethro’s voice hollered, scaring the bejeezus out of me and sending a spoonful of cookie dough into the air.

“What the heck?” I glanced around, searching for and not finding him. “Jethro?”

After our unsettling conversation, Jethro and I had chatted until the dishes were done and then he’d joined everyone else to watch a movie in the family room while I’d gone to my room. To hide. That had been yesterday.

Presently, I was back in the basement—which might also be considered the first floor, depending on who you ask—stress-baking in the middle of the night, not yet ready to go to bed after a long day of staying out of Billy Winston’s way.

“Can you go get Duane?” Jethro’s voice asked from somewhere unseen.

I frowned, looking left and right. Wiping my hands on the towel sticking out of my pocket, I walked to the dining room, searching for Jethro. He wasn’t there either.

“Where are you?” I asked the air around me.

“I’m in the crawl space. You can’t see me, but I can see you. Will you go get Duane?”

“In the crawl space? It’s midnight.”

“I know what time it is, Red. You gave me a watch last Christmas. Will you get Duane?”

“Uh. Sure.”

“Thank you.”

I made a face, narrowing my eyes. “This is weird. Like talking to a ghost.”

“WoooOOOOOooooOOOO!” Jethro made his voice vibrate. “It is I! The ghost of this here Italian villa. I command you to remove all bananas from the premises.”

Chuckling at my friend’s persistent dislike for bananas, I made for the stairs. “I’ll be right back, ghost.”

This place was huge, each floor was like its own house, except there was just the one kitchen. But the kitchen had two sets of French doors, opening onto the big stone porch—or, I guess they called it a terrace around here—overlooking the Tuscan hills.

The kitchen level, aka the bottom floor, had three bedrooms, all opening onto the terrace. It also had a dining room and a big family room with a projector for showing movies. Jethro, Sienna, and their boys had claimed two of the three bedrooms, with Maya, Sienna’s sister, taking the third.

On the main level, where the official front door resided, seven bedrooms were spread over two wings. The south wing had a sitting room, a library, and three bedrooms. Jess, Duane, Liam, and Jess’s parents were in the south wing. Now, the north wing also had a sitting room, but it had a music room instead of a library, and four bedrooms. Currently, the north wing was empty, but Cletus and his wife Jenn, Ashley, Drew, and their daughter Bethany, and Beau and his lady friend Shelly were all due to arrive in the next few days.

On the last floor, the top floor, were only two bedrooms—mine and Billy’s—but they were gigantic. The largest rooms in the house, they each had their own balcony, sitting area, desk, bed, and bathroom. I’d tried to insinuate myself into one of the north wing rooms, but Jess asked me to take a large suite on the top floor, explaining that she’d like to share it with me, use it as a place to take a break when she needed one.

I thought that was kind of silly. They were the ones renting the house after all. The big suite should’ve been hers in the first place. Grumbling tiredly, she’d said it all made sense, told me to “just go with it and don’t argue,” and then asked me to hand her the lanolin for her sore nipple.

I didn’t know this, but when women breastfeed, their nipples can get sore and chapped. They use some sort of sheep by-product called lanolin as a moisturizer; it’s safe for the baby.

But enough about sore nipples.

Tiptoeing down the south wing hall, I crept to baby Liam’s room first, cracking the door to see if Duane was in there. He wasn’t, but Jessica and Sienna were, whispering animatedly about something that must’ve been intensely interesting while Sienna held Liam on her shoulder, patting his bottom. Checking his sweet face from my place at the door, I saw he was passed out like a drunk sailor, and I smiled.

That baby was the cutest, I swear. The absolute cutest.

Tearing my eyes from my little love, I glanced between Sienna and Jess. They both seemed entirely absorbed by whatever they were gossiping about, and so I took a step back, not wanting to interrupt and not quite ready to face Sienna yet.

After the last few days, I was still feeling raw.

“Claire?”

I turned at the sound of my name, finding Duane walking toward me.

“Hey, Duane,” I whispered, stepping away from the nursery door. “Jethro is asking for you. He’s in the kitchen crawl space. You know where that is?”

“Ah, okay. Thanks.” Duane glanced between me and the door to the nursery, frowning. “Is something wrong with Liam?”

“Oh. No. Not at all. I was just seeing if you were in there. Jess is inside and Sienna’s rocking Liam. All seems to be well.”

One of his red eyebrows inched up. “Then why do you look so sad?”

“Do I?” I asked, smiling cheerfully.

“You do.” His gaze flickered down, then back up, as though scanning me for a sign of injury. “Is Billy being nice to you? When you bring him his food?”