Page 62 of Home Town

Corey tapped his fake front tooth. “Thank God for dental implants.”

Too bad the doctors weren’t equally skilled in fixing a brain when it got knocked around.

“So, what did you two get up to while we were away. Besides…” Quinn tilted his head toward the chair that was no doubt going to live in infamy.

Still bound to secrecy, thanks to Xander’s new plan to use their discretion about the theft as leverage to get old lady Forester to return the compass, Corey shrugged. “Not much. Josie worked on the anniversary thing. Speaking of—Bailey’s manager Xander is some piece of work, huh?”

Quinn rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”

Corey laughed at the reaction, then said, “Um, one more question. Why does he call you Captain Sweatpants?”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed in response. His expression was more frightening than his reaction had been to finding his sister blowing the neighbor in his parents’ living room, which pretty much told Corey how Quinn felt about the other man. And made Corey sorry he’d asked.

“Fucking Xander,” Quinn grumbled.

After meeting the man, and seeing him be so chummy with Josie, Corey had to agree.

Fucking Xander.

He’d still like to know about the Captain Sweatpants thing, but there was no way he was pushing Quinn for an answer. He’d get it out of Josie later. But with Quinn back in the house, that might be the only thing he’d be getting out of Josie.

Corey wondered if that rain barrel was still under the gutter by her window and if—at a good forty pounds heavier than he’d been in high school—he still had the ability to climb the wood trellis and make it into her window without doing more damage to himself.

He guessed he’d find out.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“How’s your ankle?” Josie asked the next morning as Corey limped next to her while they walked away from the car parked along the curb and toward Mrs. Forester’s house.

“It hurts,” he grumbled.

“If you’d just texted me—or hell, I don’t know, thrown a pebble at my window—I would have come and let you in.” Instead of him trying to sneak in like he used to when he was a teenager.

“Quinn would have heard you opening the door.” He pouted.

“Like Quinn didn’t hear you falling off the rain barrel and cussing?” She laughed.

“Why? Did he say something?” Corey looked horrified.

She shook her head at this overt hero worship for her brother from her—what? What was Corey to her? Not her boyfriend. And the word lover sounded too cheesy.

Hook up? Fling?

Summer fling.

That seemed the most fitting and accurate. And familiar. It would remind her of that summer long ago so she’d remember not to fall for the bad boy next door again. Perfect.

She glanced sideways at her summer fling as they reached the thieving old lady’s front door. It was going to be an interesting visit.

“Should we ring the bell?” she asked.

He cocked up a brow. “That’s usually customary.”

Nothing about this was customary.

They were basically there bearing evidence with which to blackmail an old woman into handing over a valuable compass that had belonged to her family for generations.

But she had stolen it. And Xander, who was both a lawyer and an extremely successful businessman, had said this was the best approach.

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