The Summer Deal (Wildstone #5)(26)

Max pulled out more plates, handing them to Eli, who loaded them up with not chicken and rice and carrot pancakes just as Kinsey walked in, nose wriggling.

Eli nodded at her and said what he always said. “You’re alive.”

She returned it with her usual, “Not for lack of trying.”

This had been going on since they’d been teenagers and she’d almost died after her surgery. It sounded macabre, but truthfully it was a release and a relief to repeat those words to each other. Sort of like taking the burden off her of trying to stay alive, when sometimes he knew she wasn’t one hundred percent sure it was worth the effort.

“Gimme,” Kinsey said, grabbing a plate. She nodded at Brynn, then turned to Max and froze. “You’re barefoot in the house again.”

“I was born with bare feet,” he said.

“Yes,” Kinsey said, “But we’ve been over this. Bare feet are not allowed.”

Eli looked at Brynn. “She’s got a phobia of men’s feet.”

“It’s not a phobia,” Kinsey said. “Men’s feet are gross.”

“Phobia,” Eli repeated. “Along with people throwing up and getting dirty.”

Kinsey tossed up her free hand. “Well, why don’t you just throw all my crazy out there at once and scare off the new roommate again?”

Eli scooped two pancakes onto her plate. She was wearing flip-flops and a huge black T-shirt that fell to her knees and had slipped off one of her shoulders. It read: I LIKE MY WATER FROZEN INTO ICE CUBES AND SURROUNDED BY VODKA.

“Deck’s shirt?” he asked.

“No. I love vodka.”

“Liar,” he said. “You hate vodka—you love bourbon. But I know why you’re lying. It’s because you told me if I ever saw you in anything of Deck’s, I should shoot you on sight because you’d deserve it for being so sappy as to wear your man’s clothing.”

She pointed at him. “Don’t piss me off and get on my shit list.”

“I’m always on your shit list. I just move up and down on it.”

“Yeah, well, you just moved to the number one spot.”

Eli laughed as he turned to Brynn and dropped two big, fluffy pancakes onto her plate. “Butter? Marshmallow spread? Syrup? Whatever you want.”

Kinsey’s eyes narrowed, and she stopped in the act of grabbing the syrup from the fridge. “How come you didn’t offer the ‘anything you want’ to me?”

“Because you’re mean.”

She flipped him off, then took her first bite and murmured, “Oh my God.” She swallowed and gave him a thumbs-up.

Mixed signals. The story of his life from all the women in it.





Chapter 9


From twelve-year-old Brynn’s summer camp journal: Dear Moms,

Omg, this year’s veggie is WILTED SPINACH! I don’t even think they mean for it to be wilted, but it is. And it’s disgusting!

I’m not even going to bother telling you how much I hate it here, or that I want to come home, since I know you’re on your dream cruise this week and I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m fine. UGH! But if you come home early, come get me.

Also, guess what? Someone—I’m sure it was Kinsey, because hello!—stole my glasses again. But when I fell into the creek and got all muddy and scraped both knees, Eli brought me my glasses. He said he found them, but I know he stole them back from Kinsey. He seems really quiet this year. I heard someone say his dad ran away with the babysitter. I’m glad I don’t have a dad.

Also, I still hate everyone here but him.

Love,

Brynn

BRYNN WAS WORKING her way through her stack of chocolate chip pancakes, trying not to moan with pleasure with every single bite. How in the world had she lived her entire life without midnight chocolate chip pancakes? When she finished, she nearly licked her plate, and would have . . . except a guy came into the room.

He was massive. Six and a half feet of solid muscle. Clearly just out of bed, dark hair sticking up in an oddly endearing fashion, dark eyes at half-mast, and a whole bunch of dark skin covered only by a pair of basketball shorts, tats, and nipple piercings. He had a T-shirt in one big hand, which he shrugged into as he entered the kitchen, sniffing the pancake-laden air appreciatively. He came up behind Kinsey, where she was eating standing up at the island. Got right into her space, his chest to her back, and rubbed his jaw to hers. Then he swatted her playfully on the ass, ending with a palm squeeze.

Deck, she presumed.

“Hey,” Kinsey said. “Hands off the merchandise.”

“That’s not what you were saying a few minutes ago.” He took her fork and helped himself to a bite. “Were you seriously not going to wake me for Eli’s pancakes?”

Kinsey snatched her fork back.

Brynn goggled at this domestic display.

Max didn’t. “Wouldn’t mind having my ass slapped,” he said a little woefully.

Deck slapped his ass.

Max grinned at him. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“This here is Deck,” Eli told Brynn. “He’s Kinsey’s—” He broke off and looked at Deck.

“Don’t look at me,” the guy said, accepting a stack of pancakes on his own plate from Eli that was so tall, surely no single human could eat it. “You know she gets hives if you put a label on it.”