The House on Mermaid Point Read Online Free Page B

her tunic top downplayed the D cup that dwelt beneath it. A pair of strappy sandals gave her an extra couple of inches.
    Avery wore a pair of Daisy Dukes, a chopped-off
Do Over
T-shirt, and an ancient pair of Keds. Which just went to prove that the apple could fall far from the tree if it tried hard enough.
    “Dinner’s almost ready,” Deirdre said, giving Avery the once-over. “But there’s time if you want to shower and change.”
    That had been Avery’s plan until Deirdre brought it up. “I’m good. Thanks.”
    With a snort of laughter Chase reached in the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. “Dad?”
    “Don’t mind if I do.”
    Chase handed his father a beer, then opened one for himself. He slathered pâté on a fancy cracker and popped it in his mouth. “Mm-mm.”
    Deirdre beamed at him. Avery gritted her teeth and went to the pantry.
    “Where are the Cheez Doodles?” she asked, scanning the shelves.
    Deirdre raised an elegant eyebrow. “I believe we’re out.” She said this with a regretful tone that was no more convincing than Avery’s French accent. “But if you put them on the shopping list I’ll—”
    “Forget to buy them. Again.”
    “They turn everything they touch orange. There’s no telling what they do to your internal organs,” Deirdre said.
    “I’m thirty-six years old. My internal organs belong to me. And you showed up on the scene way too late to influence my taste in food.”
    Deirdre rubbed her arm where the bullet had gone in.
    Avery rolled her eyes. “She does that every time I even think about disagreeing with her.”
    “Which is pretty much all the time,” Deirdre said.
    “My Cheez Doodle habit is my own business,” Avery pointed out.
    “That’s true. But I think ‘habit’ is the operative word.” Deirdre’s chin jutted forward. Her hands fisted on her hips.
    It was like looking in a freakin’ mirror.
    There was a strangled laugh and Avery turned her attention to Jeff and Chase.
    “Sorry,” Jeff said, smothering his smile. “I just never can get over how much you resemble each other when you square off like that.”
    “Well, I think orange dye on a woman is kind of sexy,” Chase said. “Add a little sawdust and . . .” He managed to shrug and leer simultaneously. “I’m a goner.”
    Jeff guffawed.
    “Fine. Laugh all you want.” Avery settled on a bag of mini pretzels. Which was a poor substitute for the air-filled cheesiness of her favorite snack. She was munching the little twists when the doorbell rang. “I’ve got it.” She strode to the front door and pulled it open. Kyra stood on the front porch with Dustin in her arms. Maddie stood beside them. She was already hugging Maddie when she spotted movement on the sidewalk.
    “Hallo, Avery!” The voice was loud. The accent British. The tone overly familiar. The tabloids had gone crazy over Kyra from the moment they’d discovered she was pregnant with Daniel Deranian’s child. It had only grown worse since Dustin was born. “Are Deirdre and Chase inside?”
    The photographer was tall and lanky. A pack of paparazzi jostled one another behind him. They looked completely out of place on the modest, tree-lined street. Like a pack of wolves hunting sheep in a grocery store.
    A digital flash went off. Avery fell back a step.
    “Come on, Kyra, luv!” the Brit coaxed. “Just one clean shot and we’ll be on our way.”
    “That’s Nigel and he’s lying,” Kyra said with a shake of her head. “Last week in Atlanta I was at a drive-through waiting for Dustin’s Happy Meal when I heard his voice on the speaker. I hesitated for just a second, because you don’t hear all that many English accents at a fast-food place and I’d already paid for our food. A whole herd of them jumped out from a bush right next to the cashier’s window.”
    Another flash erupted. Avery looked up and the flash went off again. She had a brief vision of what she was—and wasn’t—wearing.
    “Avery. Darlin’,”