Secret North: Book 4 of The Wishes Series Read Free Page A

EVICTION
     
    Ryan
    I wasn’t expecting any more visitors that morning, and judging by the shocked look on their faces, Bridget and Charli weren’t expecting me to answer the door either. Charli stood with her key in hand, ready to let herself in. Bridget lurched forward and hugged my leg. “Happy, happy day!” she announced.
    I opened the door wider, picked Bridget up and flipped her upside down. “Thank you,” I replied, carrying her through to the kitchen.
    Charli dumped a bag of groceries on the counter. “We didn’t think you’d be home. We came to make you a cake.”
    “And to happy day you some more,” added Bridget.
    I righted her, lowered her to her feet and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you,” I repeated. “There’s no one else I’d rather be happy day-ed by than you.”
    Bridget took off running, making a beeline for her toybox.
    I turned my attention to Charli. “What’s wrong with your kitchen?”
    “There’s no room to cook in it.”
    It was a perfectly acceptable response. There was no room to live in the cave they called home. Moving back into Gabrielle’s apartment was supposed to be temporary, but eight months later they were still there. Househunting had been put on the back-burner in favour of hectic jobs and hanging out with their girl.
    “You need to find a bigger house, Charli.”
    “Adam’s too busy and I wouldn’t know where to start.”
    I smirked at her. “Maybe he could ask his boss for some time off.”
    She set the box of cake mix down with an unnecessary thud. “He’s lucky if he gets a lunch break most days.”
    Against his better judgement, Adam had accepted a job at our father’s firm. The hours were long and from the little he’d told me, the job sucked. Dad’s expectations were high and Adam’s heart wasn’t in it. It made for a bad combination.
    Charli took the tyranny personally. “He’s punishing him, you know.”
    “For what?”
    “For leaving in the first place,” she said irately.
    “Adam is a grown man, Charli,” I pointed out. “If he’s not happy there, he’ll leave.”
    Bridget reappeared, forcing a change in conversation. She climbed onto the stool beside me and picked up the doll that Bente had left on the counter. “You’ve been playing with my girl?”
    “No, I had a friend over this morning,” I explained. “She liked her a lot.”
    The little girl studied the doll closely. “She took her arms off.”
    “Bridget Décarie, you took her arms off,” I retorted. “Her legs too.”
    She scrambled off the stool. “Don’t let your friends play with my girls any more, okay?”
    “Yes ma’am.”
    I doubt she saw my salute; she’d already hightailed it back to the toybox.
    “What friend?” asked Charli.
    “Why do you care?”
    “Well, I need to know whether the doll needs disinfecting.”
    “It’s my birthday, Charlotte. Be nice.”
    She pulled a face and began searching through the cupboards. “So who was she?”
    “Bente.”
    She spun back to face me. “Bente Denison?”
    “How many Bentes do you know?” I muttered. “Why didn’t you tell me she was back in town?”
    “I didn’t think you’d be that interested,” she replied guiltily.
    I stared her down. “Liar.”
    Charli opened a drawer and grabbed a wooden spoon. “I know you have a soft spot for Bente,” she conceded, aiming the spoon at me, “but the soft spot you have for screwing around always wins out. I wasn’t going to pave the way for you to rip her heart out again.”
    I walked into the kitchen and found her a bowl. “I like her,” I declared. “I’ve always liked Bente.”
    “Are you going to see her again?”
    “I hope so.”
    “Be kind to her, Ryan,” she warned. “She doesn’t deserve any more grief from you.”
    ***
    Charli’s only input in the cake making was cracking two eggs into the bowl. She retreated to the living room and left Bridget and I to it after that. I didn’t care. She’s a hopeless cook.
    Operation