America's Geekheart (Bro Code #2)(27)

“Wyatt’s household goods are arriving this week, Beck,” Ellie’s saying while I race through the cow pasture with Tucker and try not to think about the ultimatum I got from Vaughn when I got back to my place earlier: I’ll give you a week to prove continuing this foundation with you isn’t a mistake. But to be honest, Ryder, I’m not feeling real confident right now. “Are those photographers going to be sitting out there taking pictures of his furniture and boxes?”

Wyatt’s spent the last two years at an Air Force base in Georgia, but he just got orders to the military installation north of Copper Valley, and we’re all thrilled. He and Ellie will be up to their eyeballs in moving boxes this week.

“Only if they’re labeled with…” I pause and glance at the eight-year-old in the gaming chair next to me, who has ears like a bat. “Really juicy suggestions,” I finish.

“Have at least seven labeled toys,” Wyatt offers.

Ellie sighs.

“I know, I know.” I dodge that freaking monkey who’s always getting me with banana peels. “If I had to mistweet at someone, I should’ve gone for Levi. Or Cooper. Or Buckingham Palace. They follow me, you know.”

“For the train wreck,” Wyatt says. “Use your bullet, Tucker. You’ll beat Uncle Beck in two seconds flat.”

I hit a bomb in the road on purpose, and Tucker zooms past me with a shriek of joy.

The elevator dings, and on cue, even though I took the pans of fries and bacon and a slab of gouda from Sarah’s house—yes, I’m buying her new ones—I start salivating. “Pizza’s here!”

Ellie ruffles my hair before heading over to get the grub. “You eat like such a teenager.”

“Have to live on grass and pinto beans when I’m traveling. I’m eating all the shi—stuff I can cram in my belly while I’m here. Whoa, Tucker, dude, you just beat Luigi. Give it up, little man.”

I fist-bump him.

He grins with his big crooked front teeth, and shit.

Kid’s adorable.

“You like pepperoni?”

“I like anchovies.”

I wrinkle my brow. “You like—oh. Oh. Anchovies. Yeah, that pizza joint up in Shipwreck.” He has good taste. The cool little pirate-themed town out in the Blue Ridge Mountains makes some kick-ass pie in their pizza shop. I glance back at my sister, but she’s not carrying in pizza.

Nope.

She’s bringing in her neighbor.

Who’s not wearing shoes, or carrying her cat like the last time I saw her, but what she lacks in foot apparel and added fur, she’s making up for in a steely determination in her gaze. “We need to talk.”

“Sure.” I leap to my feet, because she basically holds my future in her hands. I wasn’t exaggerating about the people who’d have to find new jobs if RYDE and all my subsidiary lines go out of business because of this. Plus she could tell me to waddle down the street bawking like a chicken, and I’d probably do it. “Come on into my office.”

Wyatt chokes on a laugh.

Ellie rolls her eyes heavenward with an amused smile.

Or maybe exasperated, but I’m going with amused.

“You have an office, Uncle Beck?” Tucker asks.

“Of course,” I tell him. “It’s where all my serious work gets done.”

Sarah’s holding herself stiffly and studying all of us like we’re nutjobs. Which is probably mildly accurate. But she lets me lead her around the kitchen to the short hallway to my game room.

What?

I do my best thinking here.

There’s something totally Zen about chilling out with some old school Pac-Man or a foosball game.

I shut the door and prop myself on the pool table. “What’s up?”

“Is that Donkey Kong? Like the real original Donkey—no, wait. Stop. Never mind. Not why I’m here.”

“You like Donkey Kong?”

“Yes. I freaking—stop it. Stop distracting me, or I won’t get this out.” She pushes her brown wavy hair back from her forehead and blows out a short, heavy breath. “I’ll do it.”

“You’ll…?”

“Pretend that I’m falling in love with you. But only under my conditions, and you have to do all the hard work. And I want it in writing, naturally. And this isn’t about money. It’s about controlling the story and helping the giraffes. Understand?”

I should be relieved. This is exactly what I want.

Except I’m suddenly not sure she can pull it off. And getting caught in the lie would be worse than doing nothing at this point. “Where’d you go?”

Her nose wrinkles. “To Mackenzie’s house. Which I’m sure your security told you.”

“After the Hagrid thing.”

She freezes. And not just a little. She’s an ice princess locked in a glacier, complete with the message of I will bring about apocalypse by snowball if you EVER reference the Hagrid incident to me again shooting out her pores.

Probably I should’ve made sure she didn’t have her taser on her.

I shift against the pool table and wish I hadn’t played Wyatt last, because the dude puts everything away where it’s supposed to be. Every time.

So no pool sticks to defend myself or random balls to throw to distract her.