He jumps in place before turning around to face me. “You didn’t see that.”
“Not a single thing, although I’m sure everyone in the house can smell it.”
He sighs. “I miscalculated the timing on the bread.”
“Happens to the best of us.”
He checks whatever is simmering on the stove. “So now you feel like talking to me?”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice after deciding to crash my vacation.”
He shoots me a look. “You shouldn’t even be on a vacation.”
“My entire life is a vacation.” I grin, although it doesn’t reach my eyes.
He shuts his eyes and takes a few deep breaths.
Huh. Is he taking the time to think before he speaks?
That’s new.
Consider me intrigued.
Rowan walks into the kitchen sipping on a glass of whiskey. All it takes is one glance in our direction to have him backtracking in the opposite direction, leaving Declan and me alone again.
“How was Dreamland?” He returns to sautéing some vegetables.
I blink. “Since when do you care?”
“Since the day you were born.”
“You have a weird way of showing it.”
His forehead crinkles from how hard he frowns. “Listen. I’m sorry for what I said back in the office. It was screwed up of me to lose my temper like that and take out my worries about the will on you. I am trying to be better, and I even started seeing a therapist to explore my…issues.”
“You?” My lips part.
His gaze drops. “Yup. After everything that happened with Iris, I couldn’t count on myself not to screw up again.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “I’m working on a few things.”
“Like your apologies? Because those severely need some work.”
His lips quirk up. “That and actually thinking before speaking.”
“What a novel concept.”
His gaze narrows. “That’s rich coming from the man who’s suffered from verbal diarrhea all his life.”
“At least I have my ADHD diagnosis as an excuse. What’s yours?”
“None that are good enough for me to act the way I do.” His voice lowers. “I’m not perfect, nor can I make a promise that I will be, but I’m working on it. Just give me a chance.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “Fine, but only because Iris doesn’t like it when we fight.”
His eyes roll. “Good enough for me.”
Cami sits at the end of the long dining table beside Zahra and Rowan. My brother wears one of Cami’s crowns on his head like royalty while answering her never-ending questions about Dreamland and his job.
Her attachment to Rowan is endearing. Especially when paired with Declan shooting daggers at him because Iris keeps swooning and commenting on how Rowan will make a good father one day.
The typical heaviness that arises whenever I’m with my family settles as I wrap my arm around the back of Lana’s chair. She looks up at me with a smile before continuing her conversation with Iris, who spares me a few curious glances throughout dinner.
Once I’m done eating, I fiddle with the ends of Lana’s hair, twirling them around my finger over and over again.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Declan says from across the table.
Because I don’t feel the need to disguise my pain and loneliness with endless conversation and fake laughter.
“Just taking it all in,” I say instead.
“Taking what in?” Declan asks.
The family I always wanted but never felt like I could have. “Rowan showing you up as the best uncle.” I stick to a silly answer, knowing that’s what’s expected of me. I’m the fun brother. The happy one. The guy who can cut tension with a single smile and a self-deprecating comment. No one wants to hear about my demons, depression, and damn insecurities.
I don’t even notice what I said until uncomfortable silence settles over the table. Zahra and Iris shoot looks at each other over the rims of their wineglasses while Declan’s eyes look ready to bulge. I can’t bear looking in Lana’s direction, so I face forward like a soldier reporting for duty.
Rowan points at the crown on his head. “Please. Like Declan ever stood a chance at beating me.”
Cami presses her hand to her mouth and giggles.
Declan frowns. “I haven’t even had a chance to spend time with her, asshole. You’ve been hovering over her the whole night because she feeds your ego.”
“You owe the swear jar!” Cami jumps out of her seat and walks over to Declan with her hand held out. “Billetes, por favor.”
“What?” He stares at her fingers like they might carry a flesh-eating bacteria.
Iris nudges him in the ribs with her elbow. “That means you have to pay whenever you curse.”
“How much?” His expression is a pleasant mix of panicked and somewhat intrigued.
Cami gives Declan a quick pass-over with her eyes. “One thousand dollars.”
Lana chokes while sipping her water. I pat her back as she sucks in huge breaths of air.
“One thousand dollars? What’s it for?” Declan doesn’t even blink before pulling out his money clip and handing her hundreds.
“Collages.” She grins up at him.
“College,” I correct for her when Declan’s brows tug together with confusion.
Declan shrugs as he drops the last hundred in her palm. “A good cause I can get behind.”
Lana finally regains the ability to speak. “Camila Theresa Castillo, give all that back right now. You know we don’t ask people to pay a thousand dollars at home.”
“But Cal gave me a thousand dollars.” Her pinched expression is so damn cute that even Declan smiles.
Iris shoots me a look and mouths one thousand dollars?
I shrug. Totally worth it.
Lana’s brows rise. “Doesn’t make it right to ask that of strangers.”
Declan’s eyes darken. “Stranger? I’ve known you since you were about her age.”
Lana gives him a once-over. “So? I haven’t seen you since you were stealing my dolls because you wanted to play with them.”
Zahra giggles into her wineglass while Iris howls with laughter, her hand slapping the table as she sucks in deep breaths.
Declan frowns, a tinge of pink creeping up his cheeks. “My action figures needed to save the damsel in distress.”
Iris pats his shoulder. “No need to be self-conscious. An active imagination is a sign of a healthy childhood.”
“Sure, it is.” Zahra lifts her wineglass in a mocking cheer.
Declan glares at Lana in a way that makes most grown men piss themselves. Lana laughs, the sound filling all the cracks of my broken heart with her warmth.
The conversation changes, although the steady feeling of contentedness pumping through my veins never wanes. If anything, it only intensifies as the night continues. Iris and Lana break off into a corner, laughing at whatever blackmail they are exchanging at my expense.
Eventually, Zahra and Lana come out carrying the two cakes, both of which are covered in lit candles. Iris begins clapping her hands and singing happy birthday. My brothers begrudgingly chime in, their enthusiasm on par with a funeral march.