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The Crush(84)

Author:Karla Sorensen

I shoved her back. “Look, if you hang the hook there, it won’t distribute the weight evenly, and the swing will fall.”

She mumbled something under her breath.

“What was that?” I asked.

With a hard puff of air, she blew a strand of her white-blond hair out of her face as she adjusted the drill. “Oh nothing, just bemoaning the presence of pushy quarterbacks who like to tell people what to do.”

I snatched the drill out of her hand when she didn’t move it where I told her.

Behind us, my mom, Molly, Isabel, and Claire laughed.

“This is fun,” my mom said. “I like watching the young, energetic ones fix everything around our house.”

The tree house in their backyard had been around since before I hit double digits and had undergone many rounds of fixes and upgrades to allow for my sisters’ kids to enjoy it like Anya and I had when we were younger.

Claire shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re adding a swing chair just because my son asked for a quiet place to read.”

Bracing my arm, I pushed the drill bit into the wood, holding out my hand for Anya to give me the correct bolt. “Cooper likes to hide from all the craziness here. How will I keep favorite uncle status if I don’t give him what he wants?” From inside the house, Luna screamed, followed by the whooping sounds of Claire’s son Brooks and Molly’s son Asher. “I may join him up there before the day is over.”

Anya snickered. “Like your giant ass would fit in that chair.”

I gave her a look. “Only one of us has fallen out of this tree house before, and it wasn’t me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was eight. It doesn’t count.”

“Where are all your husbands?” I asked the grouping of women watching us work.

Claire smiled innocently. “We locked them up at home so we didn’t have to share time with you.”

Isabel nodded. “Aiden’s still handcuffed to the bed.”

“Boundaries, Mom,” Anya called. “No sex talk about my dad.”

Iz grinned.

Claire shook her head. “Bauer is still up in Whistler; he’s working on that snowboarding line launch. He should be back in a day or two.”

“Lia and Jude get back from London tomorrow before lunch,” Mom said. She leaned forward to poke Isabel’s arm. “Can’t miss the big day,” she added in a sing-song voice.

Isabel gave her a thin smile. “Let’s hope Lia is so jet-lagged that we just have to accidentally cancel everything.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “You are no fun.”

Anya handed me the bracket and the correct wrench attachment. While I mounted everything into the beam, and my family talked about Isabel’s birthday, I thought—again—about Adaline. She was headed up to the beach house today to set up everything my mom and sisters would need for the weekend.

She’d be there for a day, prepping food, setting up the house, making sure they didn’t have to think about anything other than enjoying their time together until the guys came up Saturday night for dinner.

Which meant one night where we overlapped in Seattle until she left. By the time she got back, I’d be gone.

Frustration had me pushing a bit too hard on the drill, and my finger pinched against the wood.

I cursed.

“Uncle Emmett said a really bad word,” Willa yelled.

“Sorry, Will,” I said, ruffling her hair.

“Easy there, killer,” Anya said, side-eyeing me.

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