Page 244 of Midnight Curfew

But Liv hears. “Rich boy.”

He makes a face, because we’re not exactly poor, either, but he knows what she means. He grew up with it. He hires people for the heavy lifting.

A breeze sweeps through the trees, the palms swaying overhead, and I lean in to leave a kiss on Callum’s neck and then his jaw.

He draws in a deep breath, circling my waist again as his groan escapes.

“Is Iron home yet?” Liv asks.

“I haven’t seen him.” I jerk my eyes to hers. “Shit.”

That’s right. Where is he?

It’s Christmas Eve. He should be home already. It’s a good five hours’ drive.

But Clay assures us, “He’s on his way.” She pulls her hair up into a ponytail. “I ran into Army in town. He spoke to him.”

I relax a little. Good.

“Sure isn’t in any hurry,” Callum adds. “I thought he had more leave.”

“Maybe he’s finally found his niche,” Liv jokes.

“Please.” I throw my sister a flat stare. “I’ll admit Macon knew what he was doing with the rest of us, but I’ll be glad when Iron comes to his senses and pursues a new direction. This is beyond stupid.”

“Oh, give it a chance,” Callum teases. “He might like it.”

“Would you like it if it were me?”

He chuckles. “Well, thank God it wasn’t.”

“It almost was.”

His eyes go wide, the glass he was about to take a drink from lowering again.

“Yeah.” I smile wide, enjoying the look on his face. “I never told you about that, did I?”

For a moment there, I almost wasn’t the teacher in the family.

Why is it so hot in here?

I stumble down the damn stairs, my jeans hanging off my hips as I rub the sleep from my eyes. I hit the wall ahead, checking the thermostat. A bed bangs against the wall upstairs, Iron making good use of the three-day furlough he was granted to attend an elder’s funeral. He has to go back to prison tomorrow.

The thermostat is set at sixty-eight. Why the hell—

Then I feel the draft. Twisting my head, I see my family outside in the old courtyard, the door to the dining room wide open.

Macon paces, Krisjen sitting on a chair with her legs crossed…Who else is out there?

Drifting to the door, I clear my throat.

Army, Trace, and Liv—home from her first year in college for spring break—all sit around, darting their gazes to me. What the hell are they doing?

“Do you have someone here?” Macon asks me.

“No,” I reply. “I was sleeping, but Iron is damn near knocking the walls down up there.”

I took Mars’s room while he’s at his parents’ this weekend, letting Iron go bananas in ours.