Dad's best friend secret baby

Chapter 13

Ethan

Fuck .

I crossed my legs and watched Evie bow slightly before hurrying out of the office.

Irritation filled me when I turned to my sister. Blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair, and attractive to other guys who weren't me, Gwendolyn stood unmoving before me.

She raised her brows. Then quirked her lips slightly. I couldn't tell if she knew what Evie and I had just done or if she was being her usual quirky self.

"What?" I scoffed, not in the mood for anything.

"That's definitely not the first thing I expected you to say after two years of not seeing your baby sister."

That's what I'd say when you interrupted a critical... an irrational moment. Fuck. Only Evie could get me from angry to horny in seconds.

I met my sister's amused stare with a dry one. "You've been living life in Australia. Forgive me for not thinking you'd appear out of nowhere on a random morning."

Perhaps her appearance was a good thing? It stopped me from making a mistake.

She tilted her head. "Your humor has improved too."

Typical Gwen.

"Cut it, Gwendolyn."

"Call me Gwen." She smirked.

"Cut it, Gwen."

"Beg me."

I frowned. "Aren't you like thirty or what?"

"Thirty-five"

"Stop being childish."

She shrugged before plopping down on the chair opposite mine. "I miss this."

"I don't."

She eyed me. "I didn't say I miss you."

"That's not what I-"

Filling my lungs with much-needed breath, I shook my head.

This was Gwendolyn, the youngest. I was the first, followed by Henry, a fashion designer, and Gwen. My relationship with my siblings was strained, but at least with Harry, it was a mature understanding. Gwen was a wild card. And I didn't like not knowing what to expect from her.

It was just the four of us, including Mother. Father had passed away.

Gwen had fallen in love with an Australian and moved there a year before I got married. Six years ago.

"Where's Noah?"

Noah was her three-year-old son.

"With his father and the nanny. I couldn't bring him along."

That meant she wouldn't be in America for long. I eyed her again. Her hair seemed to have grown longer. She still looked young, but an aura around her screamed mature and powerful.

I hadn't seen her in three years. Since she left New York, she'd only visited once— when the incident with Sophie happened.

After that, our only form of communication was by phone. Despite being the managing director of her husband's prestigious investment firm, she often called — to check up on Sophie and me. I wondered why she didn't call now.

"Why are you in New York?"

"Because I can be here?"

When I frowned, she raised her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm here because of my interest."

"Children's mental health advocacy?"

She smiled. "What else?"

Her smile was warm, and it touched something in my chest. She'd picked up that interest after Sophie's incident. She was determined to help children all over the world.