Free Rugged by Lila Monroe

the type to run in the same circles. Maybe Jessa helped her with a homebirth?
    “We’re sisters,” Callie says, shrugging. “Jessa was our parents’ later life miracle baby.”
    “I think it’s so beautiful that I was chosen to bridge the final gap in our family, one they didn’t even know was there,” Jessa says, smiling dreamily. “It’s also beautiful to think of middle aged people, whose desires are suppressed by society, still engaged in passionate coupling.”
    “Not so great when the people in question are your parents,” Callie says, making a grossed out face. “Jess, can I have a short stack please?”
    “With my blessing.” Jessa’s serene expression gets excited when she spies her niece and nephew. “Hello little numbkins!” Jessa gets on her knees and makes smoochie faces before leaving to get the order started.
    “So. How’d it go yesterday? Is my brother Hollywood ready?” Callie leans forward, all excitement.
    “Well, we’ve got to finish up the sizzle reel.” I force myself not to check my watch. Time is money, Flint. Where are you? “Then we hop a plane back to LaLa land, do the pitch in person. The executives fawn over the rugged man of the east, we sign our contracts, and the deal is pretty much done.” I’m making that all sound a lot easier and more guaranteed than it is, but screw it. I need to believe it’s that simple. There are no back up plans. I’ve Rory Gilmore’d it to the max and applied only to the top three Ivies in the country. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
    “Sizzle reel. Los Angeles. Damn, I wish I could do all the legwork for Flint and go out there myself.” She throws her head back and laughs, the kind of frazzled laughter you sometimes hear from overtired moms. I realize she has a few Cheerios in her hair, and try to think of a way to tactfully bring that up.
    The door opens again, and Flint’s body fills the doorway. It takes all my available willpower to keep from drooling onto my placemat. He’s got on a fitted denim shirt today, one that hugs his sculpted torso in all the right places, with the top few buttons undone. How does this man make even denim sexy?
    “Ready?” he says to me. Has he got an actual Thermos of coffee in his hand? He doesn’t even look tired, the bastard.
    “Ready. I’ll get the eggs to go,” I say, rising, but Flint waves me down.
    “I’ll handle it. Jessa gets a little flighty sometimes.” He walks over, and his little sister immediately flings her arms around him. I smile. Normally, big guys like Flint—from my limited experience, of course—tend to be a bit awkward around women. It’s that sort of he-man, big muscles, ‘man things, you wouldn’t understand’ type thing. But Flint seems to really love his sisters. He swings Jessa up in an easy hug while she giggles, then chats casually as he waits by the counter.
    “Flint’s a good one,” Callie says, smiling fondly at her brother.
    “A little gruff at first, but you get used to it,” I say. Callie laughs.
    “He was never a big talker.” She sighs. “I think this show is the best thing that could happen for him. He’s been brooding for a while now.”
    “What’s he got to brood about?” I ask. “The hardware business?”
    “Pretty much,” she says, but I sense her evasion in the way she glances from side to side, avoiding eye contact. Before I can ask more, Flint reappears with a paper sack.
    “I have to warn you, I’m pretty sure she lied to the cook and got him to give you an all-vegan breakfast.” He stares at the sack like it’s going to bite him. “If I were you, I’d get a bagel to go.”
    We get in his truck and drive out to the store. Rolling the window down, I can’t help but stick my head out a little. The wind blows my hair, bringing the perfect scent of fresh cut grass and autumn smoke in to meet me.
    “You and Chance might be distantly related,” Flint calls, laughing. I’m glad our talk yesterday didn’t make things