“I want to introduce you to my aunts.”

  There’s no doubt in my mind we’re heading toward a room filled with women. The talking is loud, and I hear a lot of laughter. But the moment we step into the room, there’s nothing but quiet.

  “I’d like you all to meet Nevin Walsh,” Luna announces to the group, waving one hand in front of me.

  I swallow, suddenly nervous and at a loss for what to do now. “Hey.” I wave like an idiot.

  “Those are my aunts Izzy, Angel, Max, Mia, Fran—watch out for her—and, of course, you know my mom.” Each woman smiles as Luna says her name.

  Mrs. Gallo is the first one up, and she’s holding my nephew, Sal. “Nevin. It’s been a long time.” She pauses and covers her mouth. “Oh God. That came out totally wrong.”

  I smile. “No, Mrs. Gallo. It has been a long time. You haven’t aged a bit either. Still as beautiful as ever.”

  “He knows how to sweet-talk,” the oldest aunt says, pushing herself up from the table. “Let me get a good look at this man.”

  Luna leans over. “She’s going to feel you up,” she whispers.

  “She what?” I ask, peering down at her.

  “Just go with it. She’s old and half out of her mind.”

  I turn my head as the old woman gets closer.

  “Fran, leave the man alone. He doesn’t want to be mauled,” Mrs. Gallo tells her.

  “The man has been in prison for ten years, surrounded by dirty, sweaty men. He could use a little love,” the woman says, opening her arms to me. “Give me a hug, baby.”

  “Is she going to grab my ass?” I whisper to Luna.

  “Probably,” she tells me with a smirk.

  “Oh boy,” I mutter.

  Before I have a chance to say anything else, Fran grabs me in a giant bear hug and damn near squeezes the life out of me. “He’s so strong,” she says, but she’s the one who has me in a death grip with her thin arms.

  “Fran, get your hands off that boy,” Luna’s grandmother says, stalking up behind the older woman. “I’m so sorry, Nevin.”

  I laugh, not hating it in the least. I’ve had worse shit done to me than a hug, with a small feel-up of my back, from an old lady.

  “Why do you always have to kill my good time?” Fran asks as she releases me.

  “He’s a guest in our home.”

  Fran fluffs her hair as she shrugs. “And? What’s your point, Mar?”

  “He came for a meal, not a feel.”

  Luna snorts. “You two are insane. It’s why I love you so much.”

  A shorter woman with long brown hair and killer high heels sticks her hand between the woman, extending it to me. “I’m Izzy, Luna’s very protective aunt.”

  I take her hand, shaking it lightly and carefully. “It’s nice to meet you, Izzy. I’m Nevin.”

  She stares at me. I feel the weight of her appraising gaze as she stares at me.

  “Leave the boy be, Izzy. Please, make yourself comfortable, Nevin,” one of the other aunts, the one with red hair, tells me. “Mom wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  “Damn right,” Luna’s grandma says as she moves back toward the giant pot she was stirring when we walked in.

  “Today is cavatelli and meatballs, plus a few other things.”

  My stomach grumbles. I have no idea what cavatelli is, but based on the smell, I’m guessing it’ll be delicious. “Sounds fantastic.”

  “And by other things, she means a lot of things,” Luna tells me.

  “Do you eat like this every weekend?” I ask Luna.

  She nods.

  “Crazy,” I whisper.

  My lucky asshole brother hit the lottery hooking up with Rosie. I was wrong about her being uppity. She’s been kind to me, when she really has no reason to be.

  “You’re part of the family now. You’re welcome back anytime you want,” Luna informs me.

  “Really?” My voice cracks, I’m still so stunned.

  I feel as if I’ve stepped inside a television show that’s played on the oldies channel in black-and-white. I had no idea there were families who really acted this way. I haven’t known any, and I sure as hell didn’t meet anyone inside the joint who had this type of family experience.

  “Really,” the woman with long brown wavy hair tells me.

  “Want to go outside?” Luna asks.

  “Sure, Lu. Whatever you want.”

  She smiles up at me before looking around the kitchen. “Do you want any help?”

  “No, baby,” my grandmother says quickly. “We’ve got this. Spend time with your friends and cousins.”

  “Being a bad cook pays off sometimes,” Luna whispers to me as we leave the kitchen and head toward the bank of sliding glass doors.

  “Dinner will be in ten!” one of the women from the kitchen yells out.

  “Got it!” a man from the other side of the house yells back.

  I’m hit by a blast of hot air as we step outside onto the lanai.

  “Hey,” Rosie says, motioning toward the two empty chairs. “Come sit down.”

  I’m overwhelmed by the friendliness. Inside, life was rough. Rougher than I told anyone. There was rarely a kind word spoken to anyone or from anyone. If you showed any kindness, you were walked all over. I spent ten years convincing myself that I would never be weak and made being an asshole part of my personality.

  “Hey,” I say, collapsing into the patio chair with a fancy cushion.

  “Beer?” Luna’s cousin’s husband asks.

  “Sure,” I tell him.

  He reaches into a tiny fridge behind him, grabbing a few cold ones. He hands them out, and I’m half tempted to put the bottle against my face before drinking it. The heat and humidity have spiked today. Rare for this time of year.

  “I’m Mammoth.”

  “Right. You own the auto shop, yeah?” I ask.

  The guy nods before pushing back some of his hair that’s fallen free from his ponytail. “I heard you used to dabble in custom paint work.”

  “Yeah. It’s something I was learning before I went in. I’m obviously out of practice, and I’m sure things have changed.”

  “You’ll pick it back up in no time. If you want to swing by the shop to practice, I’ll always find time to help.”

  “For real?” I try to hold back my excitement. People always offer to help with things but never come through.

  “Yeah, man. I’m always on the lookout for talent. Swing by one day and show me what you can do. Maybe we can work something out… That is, unless you want to stay at the bar.”

  “Hell no. I can’t deal with drunk people all the time, and most tip like shit.”

  “He hauled a guy out of the bar the other night who was bothering me,” Luna tells them, sounding like a proud parent. “I told him I had it under control, but like a typical man, he had to step in.”

  “As he should,” Gigi says. “You don’t need to fight all your battles, Lu.”

  “The guy was an asshole, but to be fair, Luna did break his finger before I helped him off his seat,” I tell them, setting the record straight.

  All eyes turn to Luna, and she smiles.

  “You broke some guy’s finger?” Tamara asks her.

  Luna nods. “It was Oliver. He deserved it. I warned him first, but when he didn’t listen, I did what I told him I’d do.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever…” Tamara’s voice fades.

  “My sis is pretty badass,” Ro says, beaming at her twin. “But Nevin, I’m glad you were there to help her. Even if it was only Oliver. He’s still a slimeball.”

  “Didn’t need his help,” Luna adds.

  “I know you had it under control, but I couldn’t sit back and watch him continue to be an asshole to you,” I say.

  “Damn, girl. Just say thank you,” her cousin Lily says. “We all know you can take care of yourself.”

  Luna peers over at me. “Thank you,” she says, but there’s no enthusiasm in her voice.

  “You’re welcome,” I tell her with a wink.

  “I saw that,” Tamara says, smirking.

  Dylan opens the slider, finally making an appearance. “Dinner,” he tells us.

  “Does he always stay inside?” I ask Luna.

  “Nah, but he’s inside watching football with the guys. He and Dad bond during that time.”

  “He’s such an ass-kisser,” I say again, reaffirming what I’ve said before and witnessed too.

  Luna laughs. “My dad loves having men around. Poor guy only had three girls, and we were not watching football with him. I swear, my dad kidnaps Dylan as soon as he walks through the door.”

  “Come on,” Ro says, ticking her head toward the house. “They’ll get pissed if we drag our feet. You know how the old folks get.”

  “I hope you’re ready to eat, and when you’re full, eat some more,” Luna says to me.

  “I’ve been prepping for a meal like this my entire life,” I tell her, pushing back from the table and trying to remain calm. But I am as excited as a kid on Christmas morning, ready to dig in to all the homemade food.

  I follow everyone inside, and Luna never leaves my side as we wait by the sliding doors for the line to move a little. “Fill up your plate,” she tells me. “Leave no white space, or my grandma will be upset.”

  I peer down at her, soaking in her blue eyes. “I can’t eat that much.”

  “Try. She would rather you leave food because you’re too full than not eat enough.”

  “How the hell do you stay in such great shape?”

  “I work out a lot and walk. Plus, I have great genes.” She drops her voice to a whisper. “I’ve been trying to gain more weight because maybe my tits will grow.”

  I lean over until my face is buried in her hair and my lips are by her ear. “Babe, your tits are fantastic.”

  She pulls back, staring up at me and then back down at her chest. “They’re kind of small.”

  “Anything more than a handful or a mouthful is a waste.”

  “Seriously?” she asks, looking down at them again. “They’re just so…so…”

  “Perfect. And if someone says anything otherwise, send them my way. I’ll set their ass straight.”

  She glances away, suddenly interested in the food. “Oh, you’re in for a treat. My gram made sausage and peppers to go along with everything else.”

  “It’s that good?”

  She places two of her fingers against her lips and makes a kissing sound. “The best.”

  “I’m ready.” I rub my stomach, wishing I had left more room to eat.

  “Did you think any more about my offer?” she asks as we finally take a step closer to the line of food dishes on the center island.

  “Which offer?”

  She steps in front of me, reaching for a dish. “Being roomies.”

  “Luna, I can’t live with you.”

  “Why not?” she asks, her voice barely audible over the chatter of her family in front of us.

  “I’ll tell you later.” I stare ahead, waiting for someone to turn around, but no one does.

  “Tell me now,” she demands.

  I shake my head. “Later.”

  “You’re not leaving here until you tell me.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She takes the biggest spoonful of sausage and peppers, dumping it on my plate. “Enough?”

  I nod, knowing I’ll never fit this all in my stomach.

  “More?”

  “No, Lu. I’m good.”

  She smiles, placing a portion a quarter of the size on her plate. That little amount of food isn’t going to help her get bigger tits. If she thinks that, she has no idea how many calories are in everything.

  By the time we make it to the other side of the kitchen, my entire plate is full, and the food is almost spilling over the sides.

  “Inside or out?” she asks.

  “Wherever you want. Where you go, I go.”

  And I wonder if I am still only talking about eating, or if I’d follow her anywhere.

  Any friends I had before I went in are no longer around or don’t want to associate with me anymore. Even with Ian’s confession and my release, they still believe I was guilty or at least not good enough for them.

  “Inside it is, big guy,” she says, and I walk behind her, trying not to stare at her ass as she moves.

  “They say it could make landfall later this week,” her aunt with the red hair tells the table as we slide into two empty seats.

  Thankfully, no one stops talking as we sit. I’m not the center of attention like a circus oddity anymore.

  “They always move. I’m not worried,” a man says.

  She stares at him. “You never worry. It’s why we’re rarely prepared for when the shit really hits the fan.”

  He places his hand over hers. “Babe, I’m always prepared for everything.”

  Her stare doesn’t waver. “Not for a hurricane, sweetie,” she says, stabbing at the sausage on her plate with her free hand. “When you’re eating chili out of a can, don’t blame me.”

  He laughs. “We do have a grill.”

  “Can’t grill when the wind and rain pound the house for twelve hours.”

  He shrugs. “I’ll pick up a loaf of bread and some peanut butter. Happy?”

  “Don’t you have a stockpile of things from summer?” Luna’s mom asks her.

  The man and woman both turn their gazes toward Mrs. Gallo.

  “You still stockpile every year?” the man asks her.

  “The woman is always prepared,” Joe tells them, but he smiles at his wife. “It makes her happy, and when she’s happy…I’m happy.”

  “Is there a hurricane coming?” Luna finally asks.

  “Yeah. You better prep,” her mom tells her.

  Luna sags in her seat and groans. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier, Mom?”

  “I didn’t want you to worry,” Mrs. Gallo replies.

  “Since when?” Luna says with a snort.

  “I know how scared of hurricanes you are, Lu.”

  “You’re scared of them?” I ask Luna.

  “I used to be petrified,” she says. “But I don’t worry about them much anymore.”

  “Since when?” her dad asks.

  “Since I grew up,” she says defiantly, raising her chin.

  “If you say so, kid.” Her dad smiles. “There’re a lot of adults who fear them. Has nothing to do with age.”

  Luna goes back to her plate of food, stabbing at the shells of pasta. “Not me. Not anymore,” she says confidently before shoving a huge forkful of pasta into her mouth.

  “Whatever you say, sweetie.”

  I may not have known Luna for long, but I do know she’s full of shit. She’s putting on a show for her family. She hasn’t outgrown her fear of the storms. If I were a betting man, I’d say it’s as strong as ever.

  14

  LUNA

  “The storm’s expected to hit the Nature Coast on Wednesday. Currently, a Category 1, but she’ll pick up steam in the Gulf’s warm water,” the reporter on the television says.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, trying to concentrate on the guy’s tattoo.

  “Looks like Sara is coming,” Rosie says, strolling from the back to the front while staring up at the Weather Channel. “You want to come to our house?”

  I shake my head. “No. I would rather stay at my place.”

  If I must be without electricity and ride out a hurricane, I’d rather do it alone in my own apartment. At least I can walk around naked and eat crackers. I don’t want anyone else to see me have a panic attack every time debris slams against something, creating the most horrific noise.

  “Seriously?” Gigi asks, kicked back in her chair with her feet up as she scrolls her social media feed. “Don’t be alone. You’ll freak out.”

  “I will not,” I lie. “I’m not afraid anymore.”

  Rosie and Gigi both stare at me.

  I hate that I’m so afraid of hurricanes. I’ve dealt with them my entire life, but I still can’t get over the possibilities of what could happen. It’s the only thing I’m truly fearful of in my life. I don’t know if it’s my stupidity and lack of self-preservation with most things, but I rarely get truly panicked.

  “I’m not lying.”

  “Leave her be,” Pike says, coming to my defense, which he often does when the two of them get on my case. “She said she wants to be alone. If she changes her mind, she knows where we live.”

  “Thank you, Pike,” I say with a smile.

  “What are you going to do if you have a panic attack in the middle of it?” Rosie asks while I shade the guy’s giant eagle tattoo.

  “I plan to be drunk or stoned the entire time. It’s the only way to ride out a hurricane,” I tell her.

  Ro looks up, narrowing her eyes. “Is that smart?”

  I shrug. “Sounds smart to me.”

  “I agree with her,” the guy I’m tattooing says. “My cooler is going to be stocked. I plan to come out the other side without remembering a damn thing.”

  “Nice,” Dylan mutters, staring down at his phone. “I don’t see anything wrong with your plan, Lu.”

  “Everything is wrong with it,” my twin sister argues with him.

  I want to ask why Dylan is even here since he doesn’t work at Inked, but I don’t because he’s on my side of this argument.

  Dylan shakes his head, sliding a stool over toward Rosie’s station. “Babe, leave her be. She’ll worry about herself. She’s grown.”

  She gives him a sour look. “Fine. What’s your brother going to do? He can’t stay at the Wayward Traveler. It’s not safe. It’s too close to the coast.”

  “I’ll call him and see if he wants to come to our place, or if he’s going to spend it with the rest of our brothers.”

  “Good.” She leans over, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, but I’m not giving up on her.”

  I roll my eyes as I wipe the ink and blood off the guy’s back so I can see what I’m doing. “Give up, Ro. I’m keeping my ass put at my place.”

  She groans. “So thickheaded.”

  “It’s why you love me.”

  “Hardly,” she mutters.

  “Maybe someone should have everyone at their place.”