The Lemon Sisters (Wildstone #3)(6)



“Uh, boobs that haven’t been ravaged by three babies. And a waist. And I bet she doesn’t pee a little when she sneezes.”

Brooke grimaced. “Okay, let’s stay on topic. You’re the goal-orientated one here. What’s your goal?”

Mindy stared at her blankly.

“What do you need?” Brooke prompted.

“Linc to say he can’t live without me. In lieu of that, I could use a day or two away from the merry-go-round before I fall off and can’t get up.”

“You need to tell Linc this, all of it.”

“But I want him to just know.” Mindy reached for the wine and took another swig before squeezing out a few more tears.

Brooke sighed. If there was one thing you could say about the Lemon sisters, it was that they were night and day. Oil and water. Apples and oranges. But here was the thing—night and day melded together twice every twenty-four hours, oil and water could be forced to work together with a good shake, and apples and oranges were still both fruit. “What if I take the kids away for a few days?” she heard herself say. “You could stay here and relax.”

“Where would you go? To Wildstone?”

The thought brought a burst of hope and an equal burst of gut-wrenching anxiety. To go to Wildstone, she’d not only have to face her past, but the consequences of that past. “I was thinking maybe Disneyland. I’ve got some free passes. Perks of the trade.”

Mindy looked so hopeful it hurt. “You’d do that for me?”

Damn, she’d really been a crappy sister. “Yes. Now go to sleep. We can make plans in the morning,” she said, hoping this whole meltdown thing wasn’t contagious. Once again, she wrestled the wine away from Mindy’s hot hands and set the bottle on the dresser. Then she pulled off her sister’s sneakers and eyed the rest of her clothes. “How comfortable are those yoga pants?”

“They’re my skinny-weight ones. But since I’m not at my skinny weight, they’re not comfortable at all.” Mindy paused. “I’m not even at my medium weight. I’m the heavyweight champ right now, but I threw away all my heavyweight clothes.”

“Why?”

“Because my skinny-weight self is a complete selfish bitch who thought I had more control than I do,” Mindy wailed.

“You’re not fat, you’re just . . . easier to see.” Brooke tugged off Mindy’s leggings and set her hands on her hips. “I get that life sucks right now, but that’s never a reason to wear granny panties. Like, ever.”

“My skinny panties give me wedgies.” With a sigh, Mindy turned on her side and curled up in just her T-shirt and granny panties.

Brooke spread a blanket over her.

“But the kids,” her sister said, eyes already closed. “I’ve gotta make sure the kids brush and floss and clean up . . .”

Mindy infamously micromanaged everything and everyone around her because she hated surprises. Brooke was the opposite. If you asked anyone who knew her, they’d say she was the free bird, the wanderlust spirit, the . . . well, the crazy one.

They had the crazy part right, especially given what she was about to say. “I got them. Just sleep.” And please God, wake up like your usual calm, unruffled bitch self . . .

“Thanks,” Mindy murmured. “I owe you one.”

“Wiiiiiiiipe meeeeeeee!” Mason bellowed.

With a sigh, Brooke headed down the hall to save the kid, thinking she was going to have no problem not falling for these kids after all.





Chapter 2


“The cats have been fed, do not listen to their bullshit.”

The next morning, Brooke had the boys in the car and was just waiting on Millie to make her way from the front door. They’d all said good-bye to Mindy. Millie had gone last and was skipping toward the car and counting her steps. “One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four . . .”

Brooke’s heart squeezed, but she smiled at the girl. “Hop in.”

“Do you have hand sanitizer?”

“Always,” Brooke assured her. “In my backpack. Help yourself.”

Millie smiled gratefully and went to climb into the car, shuffling her feet at the last minute because she was only on “three” and needed one more step to get to “four.”

The kids had no idea what their destination was. All they knew was that they were going to get to spend two days with Auntie Brooke—yay! Mindy had said it was best to surprise them to keep expectations low. Brooke was pretty sure that was a statement on her ability to “aunt,” but she got it. She had things to prove, to the both of them. She hoped to surprise the kids and herself.

Up ahead was a freeway transition. If she stayed where she was, they’d go south. South would take them to Disneyland. If she changed lanes to go north, it’d take them up the coast of California. They could go to Santa Barbara. San Francisco.

Or Wildstone.

She bit her lip, thoughts racing. Disneyland would be a huge hit. But anyone could survive a trip to Disneyland. She didn’t want to just survive. Been there, done that . . . barely. And then there was the real problem. Thoughts of Wildstone wouldn’t leave her alone. She’d left there without looking back under less than ideal circumstances of her own making. She’d hurt people, people who hadn’t deserved it.

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