Crazy (The Gibson Boys #4)(21)

She looks around the room, gnawing on her bottom lip again.

I give her the look Walker gives me when he’s tired of my shit. “Come on.”

Her feet don’t move very fast, but she winds up at the door to the garage. I hold it open as she passes through and follow her into the driveway.

“I can go get one of those carpet shampooer things,” I offer. “Or we can rip it out and put something else down.”

She presses her palms on her forehead. “I don’t think I can do that on a rental.”

“Well, I’m pretty damn sure the landlord can’t do this to you either.”

“I can’t even think,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m bamboozled by this.”

“Did your landlord not even check it before he gave you the keys?”

“I don’t know,” she wines, dropping her hands. “I think he did. He told me they left a little mess, but I was so anxious to get the place that I told him not to worry about it.” She gazes at the house. “I’m screwed, Peck. I don’t know what I can do. Cat … stuff, whatever it is that I’m allergic to, embeds itself in the fibers of a house.”

I think she’s going to cry. Her bottom lip goes between her teeth again, and she works it back and forth. Her green eyes stay wide open like she’s afraid to blink or tears will fall down her cheeks.

My stomach twists into a knot. I don’t know what to do. This isn’t my department. I’m great at executing plans but coming up with them—especially for other people—is someone else’s job.

“Well …” I jam my hands in my pockets. “I’m sure you can get out of the contract. I mean, you haven’t even moved in. Who is your landlord?”

“Mark Billingsley.”

“Want me to talk to him?” I offer.

“It’s not just that. I mean, what am I going to do? My stuff is coming in a pod thing soon, and I have nowhere to even put it now. I could fill Navie’s entire apartment with my stuff.”

She kicks a pebble around the driveway. Her shoulders are tense. Each kick is a little harder until I’m afraid that if she aims wrong, she’ll put out a window with the rock.

“Are there storage units around?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Closest one I know of is about forty-five minutes away.”

“That’ll be convenient.” She sighs as if the weight of the world is on her shoulders. “I need to find a place to rent.”

My brain goes into overdrive. There aren’t a lot of vacant houses around Linton because most people never leave once they get here. The houses I know are rentals are occupied, and most of them are owned by a guy out of Chicago who has the personality of a wounded badger.

Dylan looks down and scratches a place on her calf. “Flea bite.”

I walk a circle trying to rack my brain for something to solve her problem when I spy the leftovers she brought me for lunch. The smell and warmth of walking into Navie’s last night stuck with me all night. So did the conversation with Dylan.

All night, I wished I could’ve stayed. It was like hanging out with Walker’s girl, Sienna, or Machlan’s girlfriend, Hadley. Being around both of them feels like being with family. Like I can say or do anything without it being held over my head—in a bad way, anyway. My family roasts me for years over every stupid thing. At least I know they care.

Dylan is like that. But more … exciting.

“Hey,” I say, turning to face her.

Her eyes lift to mine. “Yeah?”

“I have an idea.”

“Please tell me you just thought of a place to rent for cheap that isn’t filled with animal fur.”

“Maybe I have.”

She perks up. “Really?”

“Maybe …”

This could be a terrible idea. It’s probably a terrible idea.

I try to talk myself out of saying what I’m about to say because … well, because of a lot of things. Because of that old saying not to fix what’s not broken. Because she’s so pretty. Because it would be an invasion of my personal space, and I’d be asking her to do it so I can’t even get mad when it happens.

Don’t do it, Peck …

“So I know a one bedroom, one bath,” I say in a rush before I start listening to myself. “Not that big, really, but enough room to move. Not big enough for all your stuff, but there’s a big barn out back where you could keep your stuff until you can figure out what to do with it.”

I grit my teeth as she happily receives this information.

“You do? Peck! That’s great. Where is it? Is it available? Who do I call?”

“It’s available. It’s just out of town on the other side. Near Bluebird Hill.”

“I saw a sign for that. It’s some kind of outdoors area or something?”

I nod. “That’s it.”

She looks at the house and then back at me. “Do you know how much the rent is? I was paying four hundred dollars a month for this place, and that was about the top of what I can do.”

“I think it’s less.”

“That would be perfect.” She scratches her leg again. “Who do I call?”

Rocking back on my heels, I look at the ground. “Me.”