Barbara Boswell - Forever Flint

“Are you taking about relatives?”

She nodded. “If my family were polled, I’m sure I’d win the title of The Worst One. I was an overly dramatic child and a sarcastic, bratty teen. I like to think I’ve improved as an adult, but I’m afraid that among my relatives, my reputation is set in cement.”

“Your family has yet to experience the worst,” Flint assured her. “My two half sisters hold the Worldwide Worst title. Of course, their late unlamented mother made Lucrezia Borgia look like a real sweetheart, so they come by it naturally, I suppose.”

“If their black-hearted mom wasn’t yours too, that means you shared the same father,” Ashlinn surmised easily.

“Yes, Ben Paradise.” Flint’s black eyes were hard. “A year after my mother’s death, Dad married Marcine, who spawned Camryn and Kaylin.”

“Sounds like you’re still holding a grudge against her for that.”

“Among other things. And after observing my father’s misery with Marcine, I have no desire to experience the gothic horror known as marriage first-hand.”

Ashlinn wasn’t sure if she ought to offer a counterargument. Emphasizing the success of her family seemed insensitive at best, boastful at worst, when Flint’s own fell into the dysfunctional category.

They both lapsed into a silence which soon grew oppressive to Ashlinn.

“Now that you’re all adults, do you ever see your half sisters?” she asked. She knew how easy it would be to sever family ties as an adult; she had to make a special effort to keep in touch with her own siblings and steps, who were scattered all over the country. She did it willingly. But then, she didn’t consider any of them to be satanic spawns. Hopefully, they no longer saw her as one.

“Camryn and Kaylin aren’t adults, they’re teenagers and live with my brother here in town.” His tone was dour. “So I see them.”

“They’re in Sioux Falls?” An idea, born of desperation, suddenly dawned on her. “We could ask them to come camping with us tomorrow!”

“Have you heard a word I said?” Flint was astounded. “Why in the world would I take those two hellions camping? I wouldn’t take them anywhere! I can barely make it through an occasional dinner at my brother’s home with them, let alone two full weeks of. . .”

“But we need more females on the trip, and you haven’t come up with anybody else. Anyway, chances are better for teens to be able to go somewhere at the last minute than for. . .”

“Absolutely not!” Flint cut in again. “If you knew Camryn and Kaylin, you would realize how truly terrible your idea really is.”

“Introduce me to them,” Ashlinn said boldly. “If they’re as bad as you say, then obviously, I won’t want them along. But if you’re harboring some kind of grudge against two perfectly normal kids just because you didn’t like their mother marrying your father, then I want them on the trip.”

“Lady, if you’re trying to infuriate me, you’ve succeeded beyond your wildest expectations”

“I’m beginning to believe I’m on the right track,” countered Ashlinn. “After all, they live with your brother. He must like them, so how awful can they be? Unless you can’t stand your brother, either?”

“I love my brother!” Flint declared with a fervor that touched her. “But unfortunately, he has an exaggerated sense of duty. In fact, Rafe is probably the most dutiful person on the planet. He took in the girls after their mother died three years ago and kept them, even though they’ve wreaked havoc on his life.”

“Hmm,” said Ashlinn.

“You don’t believe me?” Flint was indignant. “Okay, I’ll let you be the judge. I’ll take you to Rafe’s house and you can meet the girls. One minute in their company will have you convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that you don’t want to spend another one. They’re all night owls, so we can just drop in.”

His tone was so ominous that Ashlinn felt more than a little apprehensive. Did she really want to meet two bad seeds? She buoyed her courage by thinking of Junior, the boy boss. If she could endure working for him day after day, taking a few minutes to assess Flint’s allegedly demonic half sisters would be a breeze.

Flint was heartily regretting his rash challenge by the time he turned onto Deer Trail Lane, a tree-lined street in a well-tended housing development. Bringing Ashlinn here was stupid beyond imagining, but since he’d let her goad him into it, he could only blame himself. His jaw clenched.

“This is a nice neighborhood,” Ashlinn remarked politely as they drove along the long street.

“My brother used to own half a duplex farther down this road, but he bought a single-family house a few months ago. Seems like he’s always working on the place. His latest project is to convert the garage into an extra room.”

Flint sighed wistfully, remembering better days, when Rafe had plenty of spare time to spend with him and Eva. Not anymore. It had been months since the three of them had gone out to dinner together or taken in a movie

“I’m assuming he got a bigger place because of the half sisters you can’t stand?” Ashlinn couldn’t resist mentioning the obvious.

“Not just for them,” Flint protested halfheartedly. “Rafe got married last Thanksgiving and his wife wanted more room too.” He pulled into the double driveway of a big two-story house. “In addition to the girls, they have two foster kids, little boys, Trent and Tony.”

“They’ve only been married for about eight months and they have four kids living with them?” Ashlinn was impressed. “Your brother sounds wonderful, a guy like my stepdad. It takes a very special kind of man to share his life and his wife, especially with kids who aren’t his own.”

“Yeah.” Flint, who truly loved and admired his brother, felt an ignoble rivalrous niggling as she rhapsodized about Rafe, which was odd, because he was always the one to lead the chorus of praise for Rafe. It was unnerving to consider the possibility that he wanted to hear Ashlinn rave about Flint Paradise. Unnerving and alarming as hell!

And worse was yet to come

Ashlinn was out of the car and halfway to the front door of the house when she noticed that Flint was lagging behind. Quite purposefully, it seemed to her.

“A prisoner on his way to the electric chair probably keeps the same pace you’re doing right now,” she observed dryly, pausing to wait for him to catch up to her.

“I probably should warn you.” Flint cleared his throat.

He arrived to stand beside her, not realizing how closely until their shoulders brushed. It was unlike him to invade someone’s personal space; he normally kept a definitive distance between himself and another. Not this time. When he turned slightly, the entire length of their arms were touching, and his hand skimmed hers.

But Ashlinn made no move away from him. “About what?” she murmured.

Flint remained where he was. He inhaled deeply, and the aroma of her shampoo, a tantalizing spicy scent, filled his nostrils. He fixed his eyes on her glossy black hair that looked so soft and silky it took considerable restraint to keep himself from touching it. Stroking it.

“I guess I should warn you that this might prove to be awkward in more ways than one.” His voice lowered. “You see, there is—something of a strain between Rafe’s wife, Holly, and me.”

Ashlinn looked up at him, her dark eyes illuminated in the bright porch-lights. “Is it her fault? Or yours?”

He was instantly annoyed. “If you’re looking to incriminate someone, don’t choose Holly. She isn’t to blame for anything. I’m the one at fault.” He strode toward the door, his head held high and proud.

“I wasn’t trying to incriminate anybody.” Ashlinn scurried after him. “I was just trying to get a better handle on the situation.”