Nobody But You(35)

“What did you get?” Kenna asked.

“I’m in charge of the fifty preschoolers coming to learn about living green on the mountain,” Aidan said with a frown. “Fifty? Who in their right mind would want to handle fifty preschoolers?”

“You,” Gray said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Oh, and I wouldn’t feed them too much. At that age they still need help with the paperwork in the bathroom, if you know what I mean.”

Aidan stood and pushed Gray into the chair. With huge enthusiasm, he whipped Gray around three times and then slapped a dart into his hand.

Gray threw and got Shit Even Yo Mama Don’t Wanna Do.

Aidan gleefully handed him a piece of paper, which Gray read out loud. “Make a sweep of the employee locker room—Shit,” he muttered.

“Sorry,” Aidan said, clearly not looking sorry in the slightest. “But we’ve been told that the room smells like skunk, so someone’s broken the no-drugs rule. The stash has to go, and if we let Hud do it, he’ll have to arrest the idiot.”

Gray sighed again, then pointed at Jacob.

Jacob craned his neck and looked behind him.

“Nice try,” Gray said. “But you’re a part of this family, like it or not, so move your ass.”

Jacob sat in the chair, and Gray spun him while the words sank into his head.

Like it or not…

Fact was, he did like it.

When Gray finally stopped his chair, Jacob narrowed his eyes on the board, but aiming the dart Gray had given him wouldn’t help. First, he was dizzy as shit. And second, he didn’t know which of the jobs were the shittiest. And the truth was, he was actually enjoying being included.

When his dart landed on Craptastic, Aidan grinned. “Nice,” he said, and slapped a piece of paper to Jacob’s chest. Jacob pulled it away and read, “Bring in a new load of firewood for the weekend bonfires.”

Aidan whistled. “Tough break,” he said, not sounding sympathetic in the least.

“This doesn’t look so hard,” Jacob said.

Aidan snorted. “We’ll talk when you’re done.”

He looked at Kenna, who explained, “We can’t get anyone to deliver firewood because it can’t be driven in past the parking lot. It has to be carried in from there to the fire pit by wheelbarrow, which as you know, is a good hundred yards.”

Jacob pocketed the paper, and when the meeting was over, he started thinking maybe this whole family gig was like getting back on a bike. Not easy, not always a good fit, but worth the trouble. “I can do more than load wood.”

Kenna immediately claimed him. “Me! Me! I need his help. I’m in over my head and losing my mind.”

“Spoiler alert,” Aidan said. “You lost your mind a long time ago.”

This caused a momentary rubber band fight. When they each had at least one welt, they got back to it.

“No, but seriously,” Kenna said. “It’s summer season, so you guys all have it easy right now. I’m the only one doing the work of five people—so I claim Jacob.”

“Works for me,” Gray said.

Kenna pumped a victorious fist. “Events coordination is too big for just one person,” she told Jacob. “But now there’s two of us.”

“But we’ve got something going on every weekend,” Hud said, coming back into the room, pocketing his phone. “Our next big event is Wounded Warriors, and that’s only two weeks out.”

“So?” Gray asked.

“So how do we know he’ll even be here?” he asked without even looking at Jacob.

“I’ll be here,” Jacob said. “I told you, I’m on leave. I go back shortly after the event.”

Hud didn’t acknowledge this or take his gaze off Gray.

Gray held out his opened hand, indicating that Jacob had just answered the question.

Hud left the room again.

Okay, then. Yep, things were going just great.



Several days later, Jacob was heading to his cabin, tired but feeling good about the past three days of working as one of the Kincaids, feeling for the first time like he’d actually been of some use.

And if it was Gray and Aidan—the brothers he’d never felt like he’d fit in with all those years ago—who’d made him feel the most welcome, he told himself he could wait for the rest.

For Hud.

He eyed his refrigerator. Empty.

The same way his dock had been for three nights…

With a shake of his head, he headed out to the store. He stood in the frozen-foods aisle, trying to figure out what he could toss into the microwave that might pass for dinner when he felt compelled to look behind him. Yep, there Sophie stood in front of the ice cream section, and suddenly he was ravenous.

But not for food.

Seeing her had relief filling him. He’d been missing her, foreign as that felt to him. Missing her and worried about where she’d been staying at night, hoping she was safe, wishing she trusted him enough to stay at his dock.

She hadn’t seen him yet. Her back was to him and she was on the phone, so he didn’t approach her. But he wanted to.

Stand down, soldier, he told himself. You already know she’s not for you. Or more accurately, you’re not for her.