Read Online Flight Risk (Antiques in Flight) by Nicole Helm - Free Book Online
Authors: Nicole Helm
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your mind, Emerson.”
“Am I?”
“Yes, and you’d think after everything Luke did to you, you’d be over all these stupid romantic fantasies. It was one thing when you were a teenager, but grow up.”
Em’s face paled, but the battle light didn’t go out of her eyes. “Luke has nothing to do with this or with me. But if you want to be a bitch and bring it up to change the subject, fine. It only proves my point.” Em turned and walked out of the room, her long, pink skirt swishing behind her.
Callie sank into one of the chairs. She wasn’t quite sure what Em’s point was, but she was positive the sinking feeling in her stomach had everything to do with hurting Em’s feelings and nothing to do with what Em had said.
Nothing at all.
For three days Shelby hadn’t said one word to Trevor, and he’d have been lying if he said it wasn’t kind of nice. When they weren’t talking, he didn’t have to worry about mopping up tears or hearing nasty accusations.
As much as it was less pressure to live in the silence, each day without true interaction, the guilt twisted deeper. His only respite was AIF. He didn’t know what he’d do without it. Even on days where he spent the majority of his time on a mower, he felt useful. Shelby made him feel ineffective, useless no matter what he tried to do.
Still, he made sure he got home before Shelby every day. Of course, today he’d miscalculated how long grabbing a six pack and some cookies from the grocery store would take since about five people stopped him and asked how he was doing, how Shelby was doing, and what they could do to help.
Trevor knew it was kindness, but he’d never understood the small town penchant for sticking your nose in other people’s business. No matter how many times Dad had tried to explain how that was the great thing about small communities.
He wanted his privacy, and if he needed help he’d ask for it. He didn’t need DeeDee Hawbeker clucking her tongue over him buying beer and cookies and nothing else.
So not only was he late, he was also irritated by well-meaning people and his dead father’s words. If Shelby was still freezing him out when he went inside, so the hell be it.
Trevor stepped into the house already feeling deflated. Damn, he wanted to get back to Seattle.
“You are a crappy brother,” he muttered aloud, tossing his keys onto the little end table near the door. He should be thinking about Shelby, not himself, but he couldn’t manage the selfless guardian role.
Trevor moved into the living room and it took him a minute to realize sounds and smells were coming from the kitchen.
He stepped into the room to find Shelby baking cookies. And some guy sitting at the kitchen table.
“You’re home,” Shelby practically sang, her smile bright and kind of creepy. The boy looked up at Shelby nervously. Though Trevor knew he shouldn’t be okay with his kid sister having some guy in the house without any kind of supervision, the skinny kid with scruffy hair and black-framed glasses didn’t pose much of a threat.
“Yeah, I’m home.”
“This is Dan.” Her voice was still oddly chipper as she bent over to shove a pan of cookie dough into the oven.
Dan stood, wiped palms on his pants that were too tight in Trevor’s estimation and held one out. “Hi, Mr. Steele. It’s nice to meet you.”
Trevor shook the boy’s hand, but before he could verbally respond, Shelby jumped in.
“Call him Trevor.” For the first time, there was no pleasantness in her voice, just edge.
Trevor was about to tell this Dan kid that he could and should call him Mr. Steele, before it dawned on Trevor why Shelby didn’t want Dan calling him Mr. Steele.
To Shelby, Mr. Steele was their dad, most definitely not her brother. Trevor forced a smile. “Nice to meet you too, Dan. What are you two up to?”
“Physics homework.” Dan’s voice squeaked slightly as he sat back down, staring intently at the open book in front of
“Am I?”
“Yes, and you’d think after everything Luke did to you, you’d be over all these stupid romantic fantasies. It was one thing when you were a teenager, but grow up.”
Em’s face paled, but the battle light didn’t go out of her eyes. “Luke has nothing to do with this or with me. But if you want to be a bitch and bring it up to change the subject, fine. It only proves my point.” Em turned and walked out of the room, her long, pink skirt swishing behind her.
Callie sank into one of the chairs. She wasn’t quite sure what Em’s point was, but she was positive the sinking feeling in her stomach had everything to do with hurting Em’s feelings and nothing to do with what Em had said.
Nothing at all.
For three days Shelby hadn’t said one word to Trevor, and he’d have been lying if he said it wasn’t kind of nice. When they weren’t talking, he didn’t have to worry about mopping up tears or hearing nasty accusations.
As much as it was less pressure to live in the silence, each day without true interaction, the guilt twisted deeper. His only respite was AIF. He didn’t know what he’d do without it. Even on days where he spent the majority of his time on a mower, he felt useful. Shelby made him feel ineffective, useless no matter what he tried to do.
Still, he made sure he got home before Shelby every day. Of course, today he’d miscalculated how long grabbing a six pack and some cookies from the grocery store would take since about five people stopped him and asked how he was doing, how Shelby was doing, and what they could do to help.
Trevor knew it was kindness, but he’d never understood the small town penchant for sticking your nose in other people’s business. No matter how many times Dad had tried to explain how that was the great thing about small communities.
He wanted his privacy, and if he needed help he’d ask for it. He didn’t need DeeDee Hawbeker clucking her tongue over him buying beer and cookies and nothing else.
So not only was he late, he was also irritated by well-meaning people and his dead father’s words. If Shelby was still freezing him out when he went inside, so the hell be it.
Trevor stepped into the house already feeling deflated. Damn, he wanted to get back to Seattle.
“You are a crappy brother,” he muttered aloud, tossing his keys onto the little end table near the door. He should be thinking about Shelby, not himself, but he couldn’t manage the selfless guardian role.
Trevor moved into the living room and it took him a minute to realize sounds and smells were coming from the kitchen.
He stepped into the room to find Shelby baking cookies. And some guy sitting at the kitchen table.
“You’re home,” Shelby practically sang, her smile bright and kind of creepy. The boy looked up at Shelby nervously. Though Trevor knew he shouldn’t be okay with his kid sister having some guy in the house without any kind of supervision, the skinny kid with scruffy hair and black-framed glasses didn’t pose much of a threat.
“Yeah, I’m home.”
“This is Dan.” Her voice was still oddly chipper as she bent over to shove a pan of cookie dough into the oven.
Dan stood, wiped palms on his pants that were too tight in Trevor’s estimation and held one out. “Hi, Mr. Steele. It’s nice to meet you.”
Trevor shook the boy’s hand, but before he could verbally respond, Shelby jumped in.
“Call him Trevor.” For the first time, there was no pleasantness in her voice, just edge.
Trevor was about to tell this Dan kid that he could and should call him Mr. Steele, before it dawned on Trevor why Shelby didn’t want Dan calling him Mr. Steele.
To Shelby, Mr. Steele was their dad, most definitely not her brother. Trevor forced a smile. “Nice to meet you too, Dan. What are you two up to?”
“Physics homework.” Dan’s voice squeaked slightly as he sat back down, staring intently at the open book in front of
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