Free Up by Five by Erin Nicholas

big men filled the apartment. Two were her brothers, one was a cousin and two were uncles. And one was Conner.
    Oh god.
    They’d brought food—of course they’d brought food. Her uncle Steve was here and his wife, Lori, always made sandwiches for poker night. Uncle Jeff was also there and Melissa, his longtime girlfriend, was a fantastic cook and always sent dessert along. Her brother Grant and her cousin Lance were in charge of the beer—and they didn’t bring crappy, cheap beer. Her younger brother, Josh, was worthless in the kitchen—one of the main reasons he showed up for poker night, even though he preferred to play “real” poker at the casinos and private clubs—so he’d brought the usual umpteen bags of chips. Which went perfectly with the dips that Gabby always made. Except that her apartment had burned down . Not that any of them were, obviously, going to let that keep them from letting her kick their ass at poker.
    They were also all talking at once. Which was typical and something she’d grown used to.
    But she wasn’t so sure about Conner.
    He was sitting on one of his barstools, a beer open in front him—thankfully—and a sandwich in hand. His attention was bouncing between her brother Josh and her cousin. They were arguing—shocker—at a speed and volume that made it impossible to interject. Even if you wanted to.
    Her uncles and other brother were taking over Conner’s couch and love seat, with his flat screen on—another shocker—ESPN.
    She knew Conner was in to sports. He was the quarterback for the Hawks—the winningest team in amateur football league—and he and Ryan routinely talked everything from baseball to hockey. Gabby had participated in several spirited conversations about NCAA rules and regulations, contract negotiations in the NBA, and spring training for the MLB.
    But she didn’t know that he was in to having strange men invade his house and make themselves at home. Even if they did bring food and beer.
    She slammed the door, instantly quieting the room—the reason the women in the Evans family all slammed cupboards, drawers and doors on a daily basis.
    “I assume you’re all here with gifts and condolences over my ordeal last night,” Gabby said sweetly when everyone’s eyes were on her.
    “Finally. Where the hell have you been?” Lance groused as he stretched off the barstool he’d occupied.
    “How did you find me here?” she asked rather than answering. Lance didn’t really care where she’d been, only that she was here now.
    Lance frowned. “Grandma.”
    “Mom,” Josh said.
    “Lance,” Steve said.
    Gabby rolled her eyes. She’d called her mom that morning before leaving the apartment—she’d also had to replace her cell phone today. Her mom had been concerned, but had accepted Gabby’s assurance that she was fine and asked if she needed anything. Since she’d just spent the night in a queen-size bed more comfortable than her own and had a shower with a dual-pulsating showerhead and a cup of some of the best coffee she’d had in a long time, she’d said no.
    “Where’s the care package from Mom?” she asked her brother Grant.
    He pointed down the hall. “Conner put it on your bed.”
    Gabby grinned. She’d known there would be a package and she already knew what would be in it. Cookies—Marilyn Evans’s cookies were a staple hope-you-feel-better item. There would also be shampoo—she’d used the travel bottle that Conner had picked up that morning but hadn’t gotten any of her own, knowing what her mom would send. It would be strawberry scented. Exactly what Gabby had used all through high school. She thought it was sweet her mom always sent that whenever she thought her daughter needed a pick-me-up and she was amazed that it worked every time. There would be wet wipes (Marilyn believed no one could ever have too many wet wipes) and socks (fuzzy ones in bright colors), a book or two (always romances) and a pillow. Always a pillow.