Crazy (The Gibson Boys #4)(65)

“Okay …”

“Just … love him. Like you, he’s never really had someone love him unconditionally but me, and I don’t count.” She smiles like she’s won a prize. “I promise you that he’ll be patient with you. He’ll be kind. He’ll drive you crazy with his incessant need to make sure you’re all right.” She laughs. “Please just be the same to him. For me.”

I stand, bewildered, as she squeezes my hands again. Before I have to figure out how to respond to that, the back door opens.

And there he is as bewildered as me.

“Um, what are y’all doing?” Peck asks.

Nana winks and drops my hands. “We were saying a prayer before Dylan starts remodeling my cabinets. Never hurt to ask the lord to be in the midst of a kitchen.”

I bite my bottom lip to quell the laughter that shakes my chest.

Peck walks my way. “Okay …” He makes a face like he’s as confused as I am.

I hold my breath as he reaches me. He smells of sweat and diesel fuel, and there’s something entirely hot about that.

My fingers itch to touch him, but I’m still not sure where we stand with all that. It depends on the day, he said. But every day would be a touching day if it were up to me.

He leans forward, his lips hovering over the shell of my ear. “You look so damn good that it’s hard not to put you on that island and bury myself inside you.”

“Stop it,” I whisper.

He plants a kiss behind my ear. “I think today is a fun today.”

“What’s that mean?” I bend away from him so I can see his face.

“That means when you’re done doing whatever it is here, we have plans.”

“Doing what?”

“It’s a surprise.”

I’m not sure how I feel about a surprise, but I know how I feel about that look on his face. And that second, much longer kiss behind my ear? Almost has me salivating.

“So what are we doing here, ladies?” he asks, walking around me. “Did I hear cabinet reconstruction?”

“I got these things at the hardware store. I thought I could put them in the bottom of her cabinets so she can just slide them out when she needs something. That way she doesn’t have to bend over,” I say.

Peck gives me the sweetest smile. “I like that.” He looks at Nana. “You good with that?”

“I’m great with it,” she says.

I pick up his drill. His eyes go wide.

“Is that my drill?” he asks.

I hit the trigger, making it spin. “Yup.”

“We need some boundaries, woman,” he says. “You never take a man’s drill.”

I turn my back so Nana can’t see my face. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

He grins, and all is right in my world.





Twenty-Five





Peck



“What are you doing?” Dylan squeals as I take the corner a little sharp. “Peck!”

Her laughter fills the truck. It even drowns out the roar of my diesel. While I love few things more than hearing an engine roar, the sound of her laughter would be one.

My lips twist into an amused smile as I hammer the gas.

“Oh, my gosh.” She reaches up and grabs the oh shit handle. “I never should’ve agreed to this.”

“You love it, and you know it.”

She looks at me and beams. “Okay. I kind of doooo … Ah! What are you doing?”

I laugh as I pilot the truck up the hill toward Bluebird Hill.

The sun sets behind us, casting pinks and purple rays through the sky. We hit the top of the hill, and I ease up on the gas.

The vision of Dylan and Nana together comes back to me as the truck slows. To say I was blown away today by this woman sitting beside me would be an understatement.

What kind of girl spends her afternoon helping out an old lady rearrange her cabinets? Out of the kindness of her heart?

I look over my shoulder to see that woman gazing out the window.

My heart tugs in my chest.

“Oh, wow.” Dylan gasps as she takes in the view. She unbuckles her seat belt and looks over both shoulders to get a panoramic view. “This is beautiful.”

I look at her and grin. “Yes, it is.”

She smacks my knee, leaving her hand to rest on my thigh. Her fingers press against my jeans as she scoots closer to me.

Her hand is heavy on my leg. I try to ignore it so I don’t get distracted as I whip the truck around to face the valley. I park it right next to the edge and cut the engine.

Pine trees cover the hills and valleys surrounding Bluebird Hill. It’s my favorite spot in the world.

“Peck,” she says. “Wow. Just wow.”

“Right?”

“How did you even know this was here?”

“Well, there’s a sign …”

She jabs me in the side with her elbow.

I laugh. “Everyone knows about Bluebird Hill. It’s not a hill, really. Just a change in elevation. There’s a little wooded area over there,” I say, pointing to the right, “where everyone goes to park in high school.”

“Oooh,” she says.

“And back there is where everyone fights.” I gesture toward a spot behind a giant rock. “But my favorite spot, besides this one, is the one I’m going to show you next.”