Beautiful Sacrifice (The Maddox Brothers, #3)(37)

“Hitchhike?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

Taylor chuckled as he followed me out to the road. We walked a good fifty yards with our thumbs out until a red minivan pulled over. The driver appeared, looking just as surprised as I felt.

“Corinne!” I said, recognizing Kirby’s mother. “What are you doing up here?”

“Picking up Kostas,” she said simply.

Kirby’s teenage brother leaned forward, his eyes scanning me and then Taylor. The skin below the American flag bandana covering most of his forehead was smudged with dirt.

“Hi, Kostas,” I said.

“Hey, Falyn.” His eyes returned to the screen of the Nintendo 3DS in his hands, and he leaned back against his reclined seat, his dirty feet on the dash.

“We just need a ride to the trail head. His truck is parked there.”

“Get in,” Corinne insisted, waving us inside. “It’s going to rain any minute!”

Taylor followed me into the back of the van.

The moment the tires were in motion, Corinne was full of questions. “Kirby told me you had a new friend.” She looked at Taylor in the rearview mirror as if a wild animal were in her backseat. “She was kidding that he’s a hotshot, right?”

“No,” I said, clearing my throat.

The corners of Taylor’s mouth turned up, but he managed to suppress a full smile.

Corinne targeted Taylor again and then looked forward, both hands on the wheel. “Apapa, Falyn,” she scolded with a perfect Greek accent. “What would your mother say?” Her words were free of any accent at all.

“A lot probably.”

Corinne clicked her tongue and shook her head in disapproval. “Where is he from?”

“Illinois,” Taylor said.

Corinne was unhappy that he had addressed her, so her questions ceased. She slowed in the parking lot, and we directed her toward Taylor’s truck. She twisted around to watch us exit the van, glaring at Taylor as if she were trying to cast some sort of Greek curse on him with her eyes.

“Thanks, Corinne,” I said. “Bye, Kostas.”

“Later,” he said, still concentrating on his game.

Corinne pulled away, scowling at Taylor, until she decided it was time to watch the road.

Taylor pressed the keyless entry, and I pulled open the door and climbed in, waiting for him to slide in next to me.

“Who was she?” Taylor asked, peeling off his pullover. His T-shirt inched up as he did so, revealing two of his lower abs.

There has to be four more to go along with them and that gorgeous V leading down to his— Stop.

“That would be Corinne,” I said, blinking, “Kirby’s mother.”

“Was she speaking English?”

“She’s Greek. Kirby’s dad was Canadian, I think. Corinne wanted to name her Circe, after a Greek witch. The dad nixed it, thankfully. Kirby was the compromise.”

“Way to stick to your guns, Canada. Where is he now?”

I shrugged. “All Kirby knows is that he was a hotshot.” I left Taylor with that thought, saying nothing else.

We rode down most of the eight thousand feet from Pikes to the Springs in silence. Taylor turned onto Tejon Street before parking his black behemoth directly in front of Bucksaw’s entrance.

He climbed out, waiting for me to do the same. Just as my feet touched the asphalt, the sky opened up, and rain began to pour. We ran inside, laughing from exhaustion, surprise, and the embarrassment that had come from Corinne.

Our chuckling died down, an awkward silence becoming the uninvited third presence in the room.

“I’m not bullshitting you,” Taylor said. “Is that what your deal is?”

“I don’t have a deal. What are you talking about?”

“Thank you, Taylor. You’re my best day, too, Taylor. I’m hopelessly in love with your preciously sculpted abs, Taylor,” he said, pulling up his shirt to reveal the best thing I’d seen in a while.

I pressed my lips together, stifling a smile. “Are you really still stuck on that? Are you going to cry? Do you need a hug?” I batted my eyelashes and jutted out my bottom lip. He didn’t offer any reaction, so I gave in with a sigh. “It was a good day. I sincerely enjoyed every second of it.”

“Wow. Don’t hurt yourself, Ivy League.”

I rolled my eyes and headed for the stairs.

“Hey, we’re not finished,” Taylor said.

“Then come up,” I said.

He followed me, and by the time he had closed the loft door behind him, I was closing the bathroom door behind me.

“I’m going to wash the mountain off of me,” I called.

“I’m next!”

Before my hair was fully wet, Taylor was pounding on the door. “Falyn?”

“Yeah?”

“My brother just texted me. He’s in town.”

“Which one?” I asked, ducking my head under the water.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

“I guess not.”

“Tyler, third oldest,” he said.

I could almost hear him smiling.

“He’s at the hotel now.”

“Did you not know he was coming?”

“No. We drop in on each other, unannounced, frequently. Wanna come?”