“Why the hush-hush family meeting?” I asked, barging into Bowie’s house in downtown Bootleg on a fine Friday morning.

Bowie lived in a cute little brick duplex with a wide front porch and fancy trim around the windows a whole two blocks from the high school where he worked. Cassidy lived in the other half. And nothing on God’s green earth would convince me that was a coincidence.

“I wanted breakfast, and none of you have anything in your kitchens,” Bowie called from the back of the house. We Bodines did most of our business over breakfast. We were all early risers by nature and all preferred to pull off the bandage quick when it came to uncomfortable situations.

I followed him back to the kitchen and found the rest of my brothers—minus Jonah—sitting around his kitchen table.

“Well this isn’t good,” I said, pulling out a chair. Bowie had told me seven, and here I was on the dot, yet all my other brothers managed to beat me here? It meant only one thing. “What do you assholes want me to do?”

“Dad’s lawyer called,” Bowie began. He dropped a plate of pancakes with whipped cream and sprinkles in front of me. There was a whipped cream smiley face on top.

This was going to be really bad.

“Someone needs to start going through his house,” Gibson blurted it.

“Awh, come on, guys. You’re going to dump this on me?” I hated them all a little bit at this moment, digging into my stupid smiley face pancakes.

I looked up, and they all had their fingers on their noses. “Yeah, yeah. Not it. I get it.”

“Look, Scar,” Bowie began. “If one of us went in there, we’d just start pitching things. We don’t have the sentimental feelings that you do. We’ll handle the hauling. But we need you to go through the house.”

“What are we doing with the house?” I asked.

My brothers looked at each other. “What do you want to do with the house?” Gibson asked.

“Wouldn’t hurt to keep it for another rental. It’s got more bedrooms than most other properties.”

“Needs some work,” Jameson pointed out.

“Needs a fucking exorcism,” Gibson muttered under his breath.

“Can we maybe just choke down our hate for one meal?” I suggested.

Bowie and Jameson shot Gibson stern looks.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“I can’t believe y’all are dumping this on me.” Just like they’d dumped Dad on me. Just like they’d expected me to handle everything. Maybe I’d just save us all some trouble and burn the damn house to the ground.

Bowie sat down next to me. “Scar, we know it’s not fair to ask this of you. But if you want it done right, this is the way to do it.”

“I’ll clean it out. You all do the hauling, selling, and storage. And then Gibs and I will split the flip work,” I decided. “But I want free labor from every one of you. This is gonna take time away from my business, so y’all better show up for me.”

“We will,” they promised vehemently.

I knew they would, but I was still pissed off and wishing they’d all grow a pair and just get over the grudges they held against our father. He was dead. He couldn’t do any more damage.

Business concluded, they all dove into the stack of smile-free hotcakes at the center of the table.

“So. You and Devlin?” Bowie began.

I poked him in the hand with my syrup-covered fork. “Uh-uh. From now on, we’re staying out of each other’s love lives unless Gibson has a head injury and gets back with Misty Lynn.”

“Come on, Scarlett,” Jameson said. “We’re just looking out for you.”

I shook my head. “I mean it, guys. I don’t need three—four now—overgrown buffoons overseeing my dating habits.”

“Devlin’s not horrible,” Gibson said, forking up a triple layer of hot cakes into his mouth.

“Seconded,” Jameson nodded.

“Well, there’s a ringing endorsement,” I said dryly.

“But he’s also not staying,” Bowie said. “He’s just passing through. Is that really someone we want Scarlett spending time with?”

“That’s a good point.” Jameson picked up his coffee.

“You all know I’m not getting married before thirty, right?” I’d made my mother a promise every year on my birthday for as long as I could remember. I would not get married before thirty. Which meant I could have a hell of a lot of fun for now.

“Scarlett, why don’t you think about settling down with someone and not marrying them?” Bowie suggested.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Gibson leaned over his plate. “Look, Scar. We raised you. If you’re out screwing around, it’s our fault.”

“Oh, so you want me to settle down to make you all feel better.”

“We just want one of us to turn out to be a well-adjusted adult,” Bowie shot back.

“How’s that electrician you were seeing?” I asked Bowie, knowing full well he’d dumped her within ten minutes of hearing that Cassidy and Amos Sheridan had called it quits this winter.

“Electrical engineer,” he corrected. “And we decided to see other people.”

“Like your next-door neighbor?” I asked innocently.

“Burn,” Jameson nodded in approval.

Gibson smirked his appreciation.

I pointed my fork at Gibson. “Don’t you start. I know you’ve been taking no one but bar skanks home with you after your shows,” I said. My brother was quite the talented singer and guitarist. He played bars within a 50-mile radius for fun... and women.

“My sex life is my business.”

“Not if mine isn’t mine,” I argued. “In fact, I think I’m gonna make a list of your recent conquests. Just so we can all stay up to date on your long, sporadic line of one-night stands.”

Jameson was smart enough to stare intently at his plate and not move around too much to catch my eye and wrath. To be honest, I wasn’t sure about that particular brother’s dating life. I thought he might be seeing someone, but she lived outside of town. He’d never seen fit to introduce her to any of us, so I figured it wasn’t serious. But I could find out if I had to. When I was little, spying on my brothers had been one of my favorite past times.

“So, we’re agreed,” I said. “No one bothers me about my sex life, and I’ll leave y’all’s alone?”

“Agreed,” they mumbled.

I dug back into my pancakes and started thinking about just how long I wanted to wait with Devlin. It was like being on a diet and living next door to an ice cream stand.

* * *

I thought about that irresistible hot fudge sundae that was Devlin McCallister all morning in between cursing out my brothers one at a time. I had projects to wrap up before I saddled myself with Daddy’s house. And if they had a problem with it, then they could just go and clean out his things themselves. I wasn’t avoiding it, I told myself. It was just good business to put paying jobs first.

I’d gone from eking out a living at eighteen to doing real well for myself. The income from my rentals kept me going when work was slow in the winter. And I was building up a nice chunk of savings so I could snatch up another seasonal rental.

With Devlin’s job, I’d be pocketing a nice fee. And just like that, I was back to thinking about him. He was quite the fine male specimen. And his time in Bootleg was doing wonders for him. Every time I saw him, he looked stronger, sharper… fitter.

I thought about Dev and his fine form all through the furnace filter swap out at my rental and during my roof patch job at Zadie Rummerfield’s parents’ house. Hell, I even thought about him when I snaked Cassidy’s upstairs toilet because she was too embarrassed to call her plumber cousin.

Devlin kissed me like I was a woman. Not some girl he’d known since kindergarten. Not the youngest of four—five now—Bodines who would throw down if he stepped out of line. And not the poor daughter of a drunk and a loser.

He made me feel mysterious, interesting, sexy. Things I couldn’t feel on a daily basis around the people I’d known my whole life.

Try as I might, I couldn’t see a downside to a little spring fling with the man.

I pulled my phone out of my bra where I’d stashed it for my little plumbing escapade. Cassidy had paid me for my troubles with a spa gift certificate and a box of condoms. And I was going to put one of them to use tonight.

I dialed Devlin’s number, and he answered on the first ring.

“Well, hello there,” I purred.

“Hi, Scarlett.” I heard a small crash in the background and some quiet swearing. “I mean, hey. What’s up?” he said casually.

Devlin had a crush on me. And that warmed my West Virginia heart.

“What are y’all doing tonight?” I asked.