“Grier, you out here?” Nick’s voice carried through the house.
He’d been in his allocated room working away and yelling at someone on the phone. It was nearly an hour and a half since they’d gotten back to the house and already, she was ready to run off into the wintery cold to avoid his blustering down the hall.
Then she’d heard the knock on the door and was torn between his misery and what she wanted to avoid from the front porch.
“Out here,” she called back and leaned in from the front door to see him coming from hall where her and her sister’s bedrooms were. He was smiling at her as if whoever he’d been talking to on the phone ten minutes ago wasn’t probably licking their wounds and dreaming of crying in a tub with a bottle of wine and a bucket of fried chicken.
The house was ranch
