Grayson’s heart froze inside his chest. She’s so still. Then Gigi turned her head toward them, a loopy smile on her lips. “What’s black and white and black and white and black and white,” she said, happily slurring the words. “And black and white and black and white and—”
“The answer is a penguin rolling down a hill,” Xander stage-whispered. Gigi wriggled in Nash’s arms and made an attempt at poking Xander.
“No spoilers!”
“Are you drunk?” Savannah asked her sister incredulously.
“As a skunk!” Gigi agreed amiably, then her eyes went very wide. “Hey!
I’ve got a new one! What’s black and white and black and white and—” Grayson met Nash’s gaze. “I can take it from here.”
Nash set Gigi on her feet, and she wobbled slightly, then started cracking up laughing. “Whatever you say, little brother,” Nash drawled.
Gigi pointed a finger at Grayson. “Is he ticklish?” she demanded. “Grayson?” Xander replied innocently. “Very.”
Gigi crept toward Grayson in what she appeared to think was a very stealthy manner, her hands held aloft, fingers wiggling midair.
“Don’t even think about it,” Grayson commanded.
Gigi hid her hands behind her back—for about half a second, then continued her pursuit.
“Thanks for that,” Grayson told Xander darkly. He was, in fact, very ticklish. So much so that he was having difficulty not reacting to Gigi’s slow progression.
“Tickle… tickle… tickle…” she said, creeping closer. Then she paused.
“I would have made an excellent little sister.”
Savannah stepped toward her twin. “I’ll take her home.” “Nope,” drunk Gigi said cheerfully.
“Yup,” Savannah replied.
Gigi shot Grayson a mischievous look. “Savannah is also very ticklish.” “Must be genetic,” Xander replied. He—and Nash, for that matter—
were enjoying this way too much.
“I will put away the tickling fingers when you agree to negotiate with tickling terrorists!” Gigi declared. “Or terrorist, I guess. Singular. Just me. I want to see the photos from the box. I was thinking: What if they’re decoys? Like, someone looks in the box and thinks, Oh, this Sheffield Grayson guy was a tortured soul wracked with grief for the son he never knew, cursed to parent only daughters, but really… the photos are a clue!”
“A clue to what?” Grayson had the feeling that he was going to regret that question.
“Exactly!” Gigi said.
A sound escaped Nash’s mouth.
“Do not laugh,” Grayson told him.
Nash shrugged. “It’s possible that my younger siblings are also a handful.”
Grayson had fought thinking of the twins that way, as being to him what he and Xander and Jameson were to Nash. But it was all out in the open now. He could almost see the way it could have been if things had been different. If it weren’t for the secrets he was keeping. The ways he’d betrayed them.
And would betray them still, if that was what it took. Protect Avery.
Protect them. Family first.
Gigi bounded to Grayson’s side. “Do you have the pictures in your pockets?” she asked, patting him down and realizing belatedly that he was wearing only a swimsuit. “You don’t have pockets,” she said slowly. “Only abs.” She frowned. “Brothers should not have abs.”
“I agree,” Xander said solemnly. “Put on some clothes, man!”
Grayson was going to kill his brothers. He’d been very clear with Nash about not needing assistance.
As if he’d heard that thought, Nash rocked back on his heels. “Tree house rules.” What happened in the tree house stayed in the tree house—
and none of them could kick the others out.
Grayson’s eyes narrowed. “You may note that this is not, in fact, our tree house.” Before Nash could reply, Grayson turned to Savannah. “You should take Gigi home.”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” Up until now, Gigi had been— predictably—a very cheerful drunk. But she didn’t sound particularly cheerful now. “And stop acting like I need other people to make decisions for me. I am an autonomous person! A dynamo of good decision-making. I am… an autonymo!” Gigi declared. “Show me the photos.”
