The Grind (The Vert Series Book 2) by Kristen Kehoe

Author:Kristen Kehoe [Kehoe, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: romance, new adult, love, changing POV
Published: 2016-05-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Hunter

If there’s one thing I owe Isabel for, it’s her nephew. Van is smiling, and she’s even taken her shoes off while she lets Teo teach her how to flip a soccer ball using only the toes of one foot and the heal of the other.

She’s failing epically, but every time she misses, they both laugh.

It’s been a long time since I heard my sister laugh so freely, and so much.

Honestly, I dragged her with me because Mom went in to work—overtime to get some things filed for a new case. As much as I hated it, she looked so happy to be doing it, I couldn’t say anything—and I couldn’t sit and do nothing. When I realized that’s what Van was going to do, I called Nala and found out where she was going to be today instead of going in to start work on the new house alone. The fact that I knew Isabel was going to be here didn’t hurt either.

Last night at the Beach Comber…something about her shifted. She was cold at first—I assumed it was because of me, and I was about to tell her to lay off Jordan, but I think Nala did that when she met her at the bar. When they came back, Isabel was definitely different. She spent the rest of the night entertaining Jordan and answering every question she was asked.

I have no doubt that Red could build a house from the notes she stored in her brain last night. Isa was patient—and descriptive, allowing Jordan to clarify and ask the same question half a dozen times. She even got a pen and drew some things on a napkin like she did that first night we saw each other out and she drew me a new kitchen on a napkin.

One more instance of proof that whatever she does, she gives everything.

Now, Jordan’s on a blanket with a full-brimmed straw sunhat on her head and textbook in her lap, Nala’s got her surfboard in the water, and Isabel is laying on her own towel—a Padres snapback and sunglasses shielding her face, while she sits in the sun and watches Teo and Van.

Her suit is modest—black triangle top with black bottoms, but good Christ, when she took off the striped dress she had over it, I was grateful for my own hat and sunglasses.

I’ve touched her—been inside of her—but I haven’t seen her like this, near to naked, with her gentle curves and lush breasts on display. Her brown skin glows in the sun, and her laughter skitters over my skin.

I want this girl—can’t seem to think of anything else. But even with the silent truce we appear to have called in the past two days, she hardly looks at me, and when she does, she gives a small head nod and looks away. Her dismissal is clear, and because I can only remember the way I took her against the sawhorse, the anger and fire and need, I don’t push.

“You two are going to light us all on fire soon.

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