Kiss and Don't Tell(17)

I chuckle. “Smart. Just one more descent. Think you can handle it?”

“Maybe it’s smarter if I treat my body like a sled and this hill as a slide—you know, just glide right on down.”

“Nah, the mud is too sticky at this point.” I grip the suitcase in one hand and then take her hand in my other. “I got you.”

Together we make it down the hill and to the driveway of the cabin. Yup, that’s bacon.

“Might be best if we leave our shoes out here. Taters will freak the fuck out if we get mud all over his floor.”

“Oh God, I forgot about his dislike for me.”

“I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry about it.”

We strip out of our shoes. I open the door and set down her mud-free suitcase and backpack.

The boys are all at the dining room table, enjoying a meal. They turn to look at us.

“Holy shit, what happened?” Hornsby asks, coming out of his chair.

I thumb toward Winnie and say, “This smart one thought we could get her car out of the mud.”

“And we did,” Winnie defends.

“Yes, we did, and then we sent it right into another ditch.”

Posey snorts and brings his napkin up to his nose.

“Winnie fell into the mud, and now here we are. She needs to get cleaned up and then we’re going to call a tow to get the car out of the ditch.”

“Jesus. Okay. Stephan made egg skillets. I can have him make two more.”

“That would be awesome,” I say.

“Uh, I have an allergy to eggs,” Winnie says, wincing. “Don’t worry about me. I can have a protein bar. Just require a shower.” She pops the handle to her suitcase. “Mind if I head back to the guest room? The mud is starting to crust.”

“Go ahead,” I say, and she quickly wheels away. I head into the kitchen, where I give Stephan a fist pump. “Hey, man. Smells amazing.”

“Sorry about last night,” he says. “Didn’t think it would be safe to try to get up here.”

“No worries. Do you have some extra bacon?”

“Yeah, I can whip up a skillet for you. And your girlfriend?”

I choke on my own saliva. “She’s not my girlfriend. Just an, uh, unexpected guest.”

“Ahh, I get it.” He winks at me.

“No, not like that. Literally, she came out of nowhere last night. Her car got stuck and she stumbled upon our cabin.”

“Damn, lucky girl. She want a skillet?”

“She’s allergic to eggs, apparently. Anything else you can whip up?”

“Got her covered.” Stephan gets to work and I take a seat at the kitchen island, letting myself relax into a deep breath. I work out for a living, skate with two-hundred-pound men on a daily basis, but walking up and down those hills in mud . . . shit, my legs are burning. Talk about a new torture device for Coach. Just send us out in the mud, we’ll get all the workout we need. Add some suitcases, a backpack, and a girl who walks like a newborn fawn, and we’re toast.

“So, riding your white steed this morning?” Taters asks, taking a seat next to me after dropping his empty plate in the sink.

“What?” I ask. Hornsby joins us as well. Posey and Holmes remain at the table, talking about the book Holmes is reading.

“You know, knight in shining armor.”

“Fuck off,” I say, passing my hand over my face. “She was going to leave the house without help, in search of her car that she didn’t remember where exactly she left. I couldn’t let her just get lost out there.” Whispering, I say, “If you haven’t noticed, she’s a bit of a hot mess. She can’t stand on her own two feet, she thinks she can just adventure with no plan, and she leaves the keys to her car . . . inside her car. I honestly don’t know how she’s survived this long. Sheer luck, if you ask me.”

Hornsby and Taters are both silent as they stare at me, arms crossed, observing.

“What?” I ask.

“Do you see it?” Taters asks.

“See what?” I ask.

“Oh yeah, I thought I was the only one,” Hornsby says. “But you see it too?”

“Oh yeah,” Taters says with a smirk. “He’s crushing on this girl.”

“What?” I ask in shock. “You two are totally off-base.”

“Denial. Classic,” Hornsby says.

“Never seen a more classic move,” Taters adds.

“It’s almost embarrassing watching him in denial,” Hornsby says.

“Who’s in denial?” Stephan asks.

Taters, or maybe I’ll start calling him Potato now, leans forward. “Lawes. He doesn’t think he’s crushing on the girl, but we all see it.”

With his back to us, Stephan says, “Oh yeah, I could see it the minute he told me about her food allergy.”

“I’m being fucking nice. Want me to be a dick to her? I can act like Taters did last night.”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t say I was being a dick last night, more annoyed.”

“You practically kicked her out in a torrential downpour,” I say. “That’s not annoyed, that’s being a dick.”

“I couldn’t have kicked her out if I tried with you two asshats leaping at her beck and call.”