The Thing About Three

chapter nineteen | bonding

THEY SAY THAT God has a sense of humor. I whole-heartedly believe that because of what I walked in on at work the morning I found out I was in love with Noah.

There, standing right in front of my desk when I entered the building, was Dallas and Noah. They were talking to each other, something about work by the serious looks on their faces.

They turned their heads towards me standing in the doorway, and I immediately started smiling—not because I was happy, but because I loved them both. At the same time. And, somehow, them looking at me was the funniest thing in the world in that moment.

I think it was nerves.

"What are you smiling about?" Dallas questioned. My smile must've been infectious, because he started smiling with me.

"Nothing," I said, ducking my head as I tried—and failed—to keep myself from smiling. I clamped my lips in between my teeth, avoiding eye contact as I rounded my desk and sat down.

"Oh, come on, tell us," Noah pleaded.

I started giggling then, uncontrollably, covering my face with my hands as I tried to calm myself. The laughter finally started to let up once I had a red face and tears in my eyes, the two men staring down at me with a mixture of amusement and confusion on their faces.

"Seriously, Claire. What's so funny?" Dallas asked.

I shook my head and looked down at my desk, sorting out my things. "Trust me, Dal. You wouldn't think it's funny if I told you."

When the pair realized I wasn't going to tell them anything, they slipped away and left me with my own craziness. I think I was having a manic episode or something that day, because everything was funny to me for some reason.

But my long-lost brother popping in around lunchtime with a bouquet of flowers in hand wasn't, somehow.

My smile dropped when I saw him, my eyes shooting down to the bouquet and then back up to him, my eyebrow hooked in question.

"Uh, can I help you?" I asked him cautiously.

He flashed me a sheepish smile, startling me by how much the action reminded me of my dad.

He stopped in front of my desk, setting the flowers down in front of me. "I know you've been keeping your distance, but I'd like to get to know you, Claire. I want to know my sister."

I frowned. "We don't even know for sure if I'm your sister or not," I pointed out. "The results haven't come back yet."

"True, but I look way too much like your dad—our dad—for it to just be a coincidence. And my mom swears he was the only man she was with around the time frame I was conceived in."

"She also told you that my dad left her pregnant and alone," I said unapologetically. "So, I don't think she's the most trustworthy source."

He sighed, and then laughed under his breath. "He was right—you really are a spitfire when you want to be." His smile softened. "Look, let me take you to lunch, okay? I just want to get to know you, and for you to get to know me, and if the test does happen to come back negative, and we aren't related, so what? We'll both have useless information about a total stranger and you got free lunch. What's the harm in that?"

He nudged the bouquet forward, looking at me expectantly.

I looked down at the bouquet and then back up at him, sighing to myself when I picked up the bundle of flowers by their paper-wrapped stems, giving him a smile.